Day 9 (I) ~ #BlogchatterA2Z challenge – A Short Story
All artwork is copyrighted by Lonely Canopy.
It was another hot May afternoon in Jaipur. Manoj left from his college on his LML Vespa scooter. The long deserted road felt endless. The India Coffee House at Jawahar Kala Kendra being the only punctuation in an otherwise carelessly spread day. In this daily commute, he could almost count the number of lamp posts between Jawahar Garden and Jaipur Dairy. Sometimes he would see the same people on cycles at the same speed and same expressions.
He parked in the No parking zone as usual, checked all the essentials in his bag- a few MBA entrance preparation books, a Hindi poetry book, few Philip Marlowe novels for company and the sense of comfort of existence they brought him. He took the corner stone seat per usual, and ordered a Masala Dosa & Filter Coffee, an order that would easily license him this seat for the next 2 hrs. And he will dig in to his novels in between the boring academic material, which he would need to go through before the evening classes.
When he would run out of things to do, he would pick up a pen and pretend to scribble something intelligent in his notebook, run the pen around his fingers like a nerd and scratch his head in deep thoughts. As the afternoon dragged on, Manoj took breaks between reading to observe the acute lack of activity around. Something everyone in this place and time was comfortable with. He looked at the watch. It was 4:30. Anytime now she will step in. May be alone, may be with a friend. And he would be again lost in her presence, and weave a harmless little daydream. He would approach her, talk to her, share another cup of filter coffee. Even the normally indifferent waiter would treat him differently and add a respectful smile as he would serve them. And Manoj and the girl of his dreams would share a “we were meant to be together” moment …
THUD! The cup fell with a sound that broke his train of thoughts and also made his misery visible to the elite few visitors who seem to be part of a foreign theater troupe. Manoj smiled awkwardly, cleaned the water spilled on his kurta, collected his Philip Marlowes, bill receipts, bike keys, broken dreams and left.
Tomorrow is another day.