"Sir...Can you buy me a cup of tea?"
i turned around to see the source of that request. The image that i saw in front of me was that of an middle-aged man, hair whitened in patches,a stubble with more white than black, a well worn out and crumpled shirt. No, he was not looking like a typical beggar, the ones that you see on the road. The ones with the plea in their voices, but arrogance and defiance in their eyes as they know there is always the next person to go to.
This man was different. He was not dirty, but although it must have been days since he had taken a bath. His clothes weren't torn or dirty but it was definitely some days since he had first put it on.
"Master, one more tea to this table" i shouted out to the tea master.
"thanks." one short word from him and he settled down in front of me. He was looking tired and looked like he was about to drop of to sleep anytime. He sat there patiently waiting for the tea to arrive, examining his hands.
"do you want anything else, perhaps something to eat?" i asked, trying to make conversation. After all i had another hour or two to wait.
"illa sir...nothing else.." he went back to staring at his hands.
i turned back, wondering if that was a rebuttal. The tea master came and clanged the glass down on the wooden table's mica-less top. The old man waited for him to go before grasping the hot glass. He started to sip off hungrily but slowing down to allow for the hotness of the tea.
i returned back to my mobile and to the game i was playing, feeling a bit of warmness internally for having done a good deed for the day.
"can i take one? "
i looked at him pointing towards my pack of Wills navy cut lying on the table. i gestured him to go ahead. He warily took one out from the pack and placed it on his mouth. He took the match box and casually stuck the match in a single smooth stroke that showed that he wasn't new to this. As he leaned back, settling into the rickety bench, i saw a shadow of another person in him. A person who was used to this, the luxury of smokes, a casualness, a haughtiness, a sense of confidence that comes with people who haven't been begging other people for a cup of tea all their life. I thought then , that this must be another story of a riches-to-rags story, this guy who got transformed with the single cigarette into the shadow of the person that he was.
"you working for software company, sir? "
I smiled at this intrusive question, for which i should be normally offended but right now was glad as some company is better than one's own company.
"Yes, as a programming analyst in CTS"
"oh cognizant...good company i have heard..My daughter got through an interview there..seven years back..." he just wavered off lost in his own thoughts.
Not knowing whether to respond further or to let him reminisce on his own i prodded, "oh is she working there now?"
" uh..what...uh no no..she is not working there now..she is in the US..got a good alliance from a software guy settled there..."
"oh that's nice..", i said , once again stuck for words.
"yeah it is..was good" he said ominously
I looked up at him, seeing that there was more to the story, alternatively juggling internally whether to continue or to end the conversation then and there.
"hmmm..was? What happened? " i asked in the kindest voice i could muster, my throat strangled by the smoke and tar of my cigarettes.
end of part 1...wait a while for the next part of this three part post..
(click here for the next part)
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