A Saturday Morning…

I wrote this a long time ago on the back of a bus ticket printout. Just found it recently while cleaning out my desk, so thought I’d put it up here..

I sit alone in an empty restaurant on a Sunday morning and just watch the world around. Traffic goes by easily, for there is no rush on the blessed weekend. The sun shines brightly today instead of the incessant rains of the week gone by. I look back on the week gone by, last Saturday at this time I was on a bus on the way to Pune, a journey of only three short hours but a place that is world’s away from this one. I almost felt like I was going back in time; the closer I got to Pune, the more clearly I could see before my eyes – my life of three years.

In the quiet I can hear the hum of the air conditioner with the occasional sounds from the kitchen. Now they decide to put on some music, nice and slow just like the day. There is an ancient tree outside which actually blocks part of the road but nobody has bothered (or should I say dared?) to cut it down. Its as if the tree holds its own against this world of constant change and remains resolutely firm in the face of danger. It’s scarred and drooping branches reach all the way across the road and offers its shade to all. And now the quiet of the restaurant is broken by the loud and carefree voices of schoolchildren who argue heatedly about the burgers, fries, choice of sauces and drinks. You can’t help but smile at the innocence of the young.

I often think that the very young like the very old have the uncanny ability to see through the trappings and go straight to the truth. They pick up all the vibes around them, a lot of which depends on their parents with whom they spend most of their time. Children will imbibe all the good that they feel and repel all else. Even later in life, we come to resent certain manner of things without any particular reason for doing so; it is basically our subconscious that reminds us that sometime in our life we have seen something similar and not liked it.

Now there is a man who want his takeaway order and fast. He makes a few quick and impatient phone calls, all the while drumming his fingers on the table that is his temporary sanctuary. At last he collects his package and is on his way, leaving behind, in his wake, a trail of energy. How some people can be so constantly charged up, beats me!

And now comes the food, just as good as I remember it! There something very indestructible about food, it always lasts, no matter what. Food makes everything just a little bit better, a little less worse, a little more bearable, and basically you get my drift. And since my focus has now shifted to this delightful burger before me, I bid adieu. Until next time then, cheers!

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