The door was answered by an elderly lady. She must be in her seventies. A tiny creature. She had a strong face full of wrinkles. Her eyes must have been a little wider in her youth. Now they were laden with wrinkles and seemed drowsy. Their color had turned bluish. Her jawline was strong still but her lips were nothing more than a thin line of skin. She was clad in the typical dress which females in mountains are usually clad in. She wore torn sport shoes which had peepholes at the side probably caused due to overuse. Her thick black socks made a striking contrast with her red shoe.
She looked at him with questioning eyes but didnt utter a word.
He hesitated a bit then asked - "Chai ?"
She raised her hand gesturing him to wait. She turned and made her way back into the small cottage. She reappeared with a man of similar stature and age. He was a wrinkled man wearing a thick woolen jacket and washed out trousers. Again overused shoes with socks lurking from behind. He gave similar inquisitive looks to the young man standing in front of him.
He again hesitantly asked - "Chai ?"
The old man nodded. He turned back and said something to the female in local language. She smiled and walked out toward the bench, crossed it and went to the stove. The old man came out and offered him a bottle of water.
A few sips of water made him breathe stably. The aftereffect of rum combined with his long walk definitely made him feel warm. He was breathing normally now. He had no one to talk to so he quietly waited for the old woman to give him the cup of tea she was now making. He asked the old man if there are any visitors to this place to which he nodded. From the broken hindi dialect of the old man he could gather that the place didnt have many visitors. Only some passers by. It was anyways situated away from the main market and was converted into a commercial property few years back by the owner.
He found the silence most intriguing. He was quietly observing the old couple. The old woman handed him his cup of tea and went inside. The old man kept waiting for him to either order something or ask for a room or settle the bill. He wasnt sure if he could stay there as he had made advance payment to his guest house and he was quite happy with the cold room.
While sipping his tea he kept looking far. With his dreamy eyes he was thinking of his past few years. The gains. The losses. The friends. The foes. His life. Their life.
When your thoughts are wandering, the best way to control them is scanning your mind and finding the topic where they can sit. Sit for as long as you want. For his thoughts the centrifugal point was "Their Life."
He took another sip of tea. Looking deep into the valley. Feeling the wind on his face. He wish his heart could feel something too. He wish the warmth in his body could be reciprocated by his heart also. His Heart. Why could he not feel it. Why is it that all he can feel is the beating of a human organ which is needed to keep him alive. While he was a teenager he knew that his heart would skip a beat when he will meet his "someone special" and then subsequently it will only beat for the someone special.
His attention was diverted by crackling sound of shoes on bare ground. His thoughts were interrupted which he didnt want. He looked at her and saw her going towards the valley. There was another arrangement of stones and wood which looked like a small bench. The old woman walked upto that and sat their quietly. In a while the old man also joined her which made her body relaxed even though she didnt look at him.
He watched the old couple. Silent. In Love.
She looked at him with questioning eyes but didnt utter a word.
He hesitated a bit then asked - "Chai ?"
She raised her hand gesturing him to wait. She turned and made her way back into the small cottage. She reappeared with a man of similar stature and age. He was a wrinkled man wearing a thick woolen jacket and washed out trousers. Again overused shoes with socks lurking from behind. He gave similar inquisitive looks to the young man standing in front of him.
He again hesitantly asked - "Chai ?"
The old man nodded. He turned back and said something to the female in local language. She smiled and walked out toward the bench, crossed it and went to the stove. The old man came out and offered him a bottle of water.
A few sips of water made him breathe stably. The aftereffect of rum combined with his long walk definitely made him feel warm. He was breathing normally now. He had no one to talk to so he quietly waited for the old woman to give him the cup of tea she was now making. He asked the old man if there are any visitors to this place to which he nodded. From the broken hindi dialect of the old man he could gather that the place didnt have many visitors. Only some passers by. It was anyways situated away from the main market and was converted into a commercial property few years back by the owner.
He found the silence most intriguing. He was quietly observing the old couple. The old woman handed him his cup of tea and went inside. The old man kept waiting for him to either order something or ask for a room or settle the bill. He wasnt sure if he could stay there as he had made advance payment to his guest house and he was quite happy with the cold room.
While sipping his tea he kept looking far. With his dreamy eyes he was thinking of his past few years. The gains. The losses. The friends. The foes. His life. Their life.
When your thoughts are wandering, the best way to control them is scanning your mind and finding the topic where they can sit. Sit for as long as you want. For his thoughts the centrifugal point was "Their Life."
He took another sip of tea. Looking deep into the valley. Feeling the wind on his face. He wish his heart could feel something too. He wish the warmth in his body could be reciprocated by his heart also. His Heart. Why could he not feel it. Why is it that all he can feel is the beating of a human organ which is needed to keep him alive. While he was a teenager he knew that his heart would skip a beat when he will meet his "someone special" and then subsequently it will only beat for the someone special.
His attention was diverted by crackling sound of shoes on bare ground. His thoughts were interrupted which he didnt want. He looked at her and saw her going towards the valley. There was another arrangement of stones and wood which looked like a small bench. The old woman walked upto that and sat their quietly. In a while the old man also joined her which made her body relaxed even though she didnt look at him.
He watched the old couple. Silent. In Love.
