Broken Hug

Conversation

They walked down the flight of stairs. The ground floor was empty except the two security guards talking between themselves.

    He looked at her. “I suggest we go for coffee.”

   She smiled as she shifted her satchel to the other shoulder.

   Outside the hum of traffic greeted them. Dusk was all around. The pavement went in all directions, as they stood at the crossing. She held his arm, and this made him smile. He was in her land and yet here she wanted him to be her escort while crossing the road. It was his idea about the coffee. But she did seem charmed by it. Being together would bring many more ideas in his mind, he mused, and they would have to cross many crossings of life.

   He felt a sense of belonging as she not only held his arm while moving through the maze of the green and yellow taxis and a luxury coach which had stooped at the traffic signal, but also seemed to lean to his side.

   The MBK market stood at the end of the pavement.

   “Where can we find a coffee shop around?” and he looked at her.

   “There.” And she pointed at Starbucks.

   The shop was empty except two Thai ladies with caps, standing at the food counter.

   She chose the second table from the entrance. There was another door at the end of the counter, and it was from inside the market complex. From his chair he could see a few shops.

   She looked at him. “What are you thinking?”

He smiled a silent smile. “So many things.” He spoke at last. “The traffic we’ve crossed, the stars that are about to appear when the sky grows darker. But most of all, I’m thinking of you.”

   She smiled, and fidgeted with her bag, rubbing her forefinger over the edge. 

   “I still feel all this is taking place in a dream, Fai.” He paused. “We were moving about and then lunched, and all the while you were in my mind. At the same time you came to the same vicinity but we didn’t see each other. Then finally you were here, and I too came here. And we suddenly met. And now,” he smiled, “we are sitting at a café.”

   Silence fell between them.

   “It’s surprising indeed,” she nodded.

   His eyes fell on her fingers, and he liked studying their slender shape, and the fair skin; the nails pink and tapered; the creases at the joints.

   “You know, we three friends were returning to our hotel, but when we were about to cross this place, the traffic stopped at the signal. I think it was fated to be so. And I got out, while Raj and Max continued on their way.” He paused unmindful that one of the ladies was holding the menu in her hand, but was waiting with patience for them to come to the end of their talk. “I wanted to relive yesterday’s moment here.”

   She discovered the gentleness in his deep brown eyes as he spoke. And she felt in her heart the truth of his voice.

   “After I had bought the medicine,” she said, “I was heading homewards. And after the taxi began moving for sometime, I realized that the day was ending, so I told the driver to take me to BACC.” She looked at the table, and moved her head around the café. Then she looked into his eyes again and said almost to herself. “I too wanted to relive the moment.”

   He stretched his hand and took her palm in his and held it. She didn’t make any attempt to remove it. A surge of warmth gently spread all over his heart, and it flushed his face.

   For how long his eyes were looking at their hands he didn’t know, and neither did she, but the soft Sawasdee Ka of the waitress broke their reverie. 

   The lady was standing with the menu.

   “You might be hungry, Fai. I mean straight from school. So what shall we order for?”

   She smiled.

   She chose chicken sandwich, and he ordered for two cups of cappuccino.

   “You said you have come for a holiday,” she said once the lady had gone. “Did you enjoy the sightseeing today?’

   “Oh yes. We did.” And he told her about the tourist spots he and his friends had visited.

   “When you get time you should visit Ayutthaya. It is the old capitol of Thailand. You will go back to a more silent world there.”

   “You’ve been there?” He paused. “I’m sure you have. What a silly question to ask.” And he smiled at his own words.

   “Yes. Several times. We have a house there. But it is looked after by a caretaker, a sort of a monk. And I plan to visit it again, but after my exams.”

   “When’s your exams?”

   “January next year. By the way how long are you here?”

   “Our return flight is this Sunday. Today’s Tuesday, so four more days.”

   He looked at her. He couldn’t read the expression on her face. There was some confused emotion, and that is all he could conclude, but nothing more than that. The emotion looked far away. Yet it seemed near.

   The sandwich and coffee arrived.

  “What do you intend to do after high school?” he said at last.

   She took a bite and kept the sandwich on the plate. “Umm, take up some course in a university. But I’m in two minds as to what exactly to follow.” She bit the sandwich. “But you know, I love to sketch. So I was thinking of freelancing for children’s graphic novels. You know, Gothic pictures and bit of the macabre. Disturbing. Causing fear, and death kind of stuff.”

   “That sounds nice, indeed. They might be in craze here?”

   “Oh yes, they are a rage youths.” She took one more bite. “And what about you, you might want to be an engineer?”

   He gave a small laugh. “No, not at all.” He kept his cup on the table. “I do some content writing for a website. You see, one of my friend’s bro stays in Australia, and his friend staying in Delhi needed a content writer for their website. You know they have taken the job of giving authentic knowledge to the customers interested in buying cell phones. So this dot com company has hired me to do content writing on products. At this point I’m writing articles on cell phones and their advantages particularly the phones sold by them.”

   “And it might be interesting.”

   “Well, it’s interesting as long as I’m not bound to a nine to five duty in an office. I can work from anywhere. And besides, I get the chance to read poetry and dabble with it a bit too.”

   “Oh you write poetry,” and she took a sip from her cup, kept it and looked at him with surprise. “Recite one for me, Raw-han.”

   He took out the small notebook. “No, I’ll read it. It’s Wordsworth’s, not mine.” He flicked through the pages. “Here it goes.”

                        My heart leaps up when I behold

                        A Rainbow in the sky.

                        So was it when my life began

                        So is it now I am a man

                        So be it when I shall grow old

                        Or let me die!

                        The Child is the father of the man;

                        And I wish my days to be

                        Bound each to each by piety.

   She smiled as he explained the nuance of the lines. There was another side to this person, she thought to herself.

   “And your poem?”

   “Not today. Perhaps some other day.”

   She fidgeted with the glass of water, turning it this way and that.

   “I will have to leave in a short while,” she said.

   “I understand. How will you go, Fai?”

   “I’ll take a taxi.”

   “How long will it take to reach home?”

   “Um, with the traffic now, about an hour.”

   They left from the other door of the cafe, passing the few shops there and then crossed the road. A taxi was arriving, taxi glowing in red on the top of the roof. He hailed it.

   “Here,” and he opened the door for her. She smiled while she sat, and he gestured her to move to the other side. Taken by surprise, she didn’t know what was happening, but did move.

   “Please tell him where you have to go,” he requested and pointed at the driver.

   “Ladprao,” she told the driver in Thai.

   She looked at Rohan, with a question twinkling in her eyes.

   “I’ll drop you and reach the Asia Guest House.”

   A glow of contentment spread on her face. She smiled back at him. Perhaps it was her way of showing thanks. She could read that he was filled with surprises.

   The car sped on. She looked outside through her side of the window. He, for a while, looked through his, but very soon turned his head and looked through the glass in front. The traffic was slowing to a crawl before a crossing. 

   Her satchel was kept between them, and her left hand placed over it. Instinct injected him with emotion and he stretched his hand and rested his palm over hers. She made no attempt to remove it; instead she turned her head from the window and looked ahead.

   A long stream of vehicles moved slowly and without any noise. 

   He turned to her. “Imagine the road is a lake, and all the vehicles are swans. See how they move in the water.”