Saturday, September 1, 2012

Strangers & Directions

Part #2 of Strangers series

I don’t know if I ever mentioned this before, but a girl asked me directions to Bagel Shop once. I was near Rizvi, a few moments away from home.

I admit, people who come asking for directions freak me out a little. I am no way as composed as some of the kind gentlemen who give me directions almost every day I am on the street.
You are in the middle of the street, three cobblestones under your feet, three feet in between you and the nearest tree, six paces from the nearest chai wallah, at thirty degrees angle to the sun, one third ratio with the length of the street and you make one fifth of the population in sight…This is where you are. This is the world.  

Now, where the fuck is Bagel Shop?

I try to get my head around it, imagine possibilities that go beyond the world and tell her…so and so…
You know left and right is always confusing to me, but if something is straight I can definitely point out the way. I guess the girl understood I knew not left from right and said to my face: “So you don’t know, right?”

The car zooms away.

Wait, I know! I just remembered.

Stop the fucking car.

Fine, fuck off.

Today I was walking in the lane beside St. Andrews church all the way to Turner Road. It’s a busy street and I was making a statement in my head to whomsoever it may concern.

‘The street is for pedestrians!’

I ignored the sidewalk which is on the opposite side. A few moments after the traffic toned down, a car pulled up alongside me.

“Excuse me, can you tell us the way to Candies?”

Get outta here! I’m going to the same place!

So I say, “Go straight till the end of the road and you’ll reach the main road and then go straight again.”

“Go straight again?” the girl asks (this one sweeter than the last), but I get confused still. Aren’t you supposed to go straight all the time?

There must be a point every once in a while in life, where you have to drop everything and go left. Or right. 
But I don’t freaking know left from right! I must be the anti-ambidexter or something…you know, like anti-christ + ambidextrous?

“Oh well, yeah…straight it is, really,” I mumble and smile stupidly, “I’m going to the same place actually!”

Give me a ride?

The car takes off.

Well, I wasn’t wrong. Once you come out from the lane onto Turner Road, there is this lane right opposite that goes towards Candies that says ‘St. Paul Rd. Extension’. You are supposed to go down that lane and take a left a little bit later and you are at candies. But fuck me, if I can remember all of that in one conversation.

I quicken my pace and try to find that car again. Meanwhile, I wonder if life does give you second chances.
Maybe, if I’m able to convince the car people this time that I know what shit I’m talking about, they’ll give me a ride?

I gotta be kidding myself though. They were in a car. I was walking. They must have taken the wrong turn somewhere or the other by now and might just have cursed the girl they were stupid enough to trust.
Now I’m at Candies, writing the shit out of the story. The whole world is invisible to me.

A sweet looking couple disturb me.

“Hi…There is supposed to be a restaurant called Out of the Blue somewhere around here, right…?”

I wake up from my dream world and try to get my brain juices to work. Like that could really work…
You see, when a stranger engages you in conversation, you only ever have two seconds to collect your balls and speak out your ass. After that, they’re gone.

“Right…” I say, as realisation dawns on me. I realise that I can’t wake the shit up. “There is…but I don’t know where that is.”

The guy looks put down. What did I do?!

“Sorry…” I smile.

By the way, did anyone ever tell you that a smile is also the fakest fucking apology on the planet, in addition to being heartwearming and self-less and almost-freaking divine?

The couple smile back, apology accepted and go on their way.

Oh fuck! Wait, it’s on Carter Road…or on that slope that goes down to Carter Road. It’s a few minutes away from my house!

Wait, I’ll tell you!!!

The lovey-dovey couple don’t look back. I watch them all the way down the stairs. Nope, not a chance. Their souls must be stamped with the motto never-look-back or something. 

So much for second chances. 


Say hi to PMS, my kitty!