The bubbling job was over by 12:30 pm and when I was pushing through the crowd to be comfortably out of the place, it struck me how much, young engineers long for a government job, secure, glossy, paying, facilitating and more than that less demanding. There is always a sense of competition remaining after these exams end. Most of the people rub shoulders to cling to some public conveyance means to get away from the place and get rid of the post exam horrible feelings. The resources deplete fast and auto walas and taxiwalas make merry those Sundays. But I was not in much hurry. I had my 17:30 Steel Express ticket in my wallet. And I knew that some how I will find butchering time tough for at least a couple of hours or even more later the day.
Anyway, I and Shashi emerged out of the university gate which just faces the Jadavpur bus stand across the road. Just there we were hit by a college junior (she happens to be the girl friend of our common friend Lala), she was desperately waiting for TCS to end her corpulent father’s money days for the past 6 months. We chatted for a while there which did not concern anything which I consider chat-able. It was chiefly decorated by how she was not missing any of the recent movies and how well her still to join anywhere Kolkata college friends keep meeting, et al. All the while I kept looking at her with amazement trying to decipher what makes them talk like that. I kept my inadvertent inquisition in my belly and gestured that I was in great hurry. That reminded Shashi of his brother who was waiting for him at the Howrah Station and we crossed the road.
But that blubber talk gave us vital information about a CTC bus scheduled to leave the bus stand 1o’clock. It’s not only that I and Shashi were seated decently but the promptness with which the bus left the stand, I knew that after Shashi departs, time will kill me. I was sincerely hoping that the bus moves slowly and keeps on getting held at traffic lights and jams. To my despair Sunday Kolkata did not offer any such resistance to the bus and coming boredom. In 35 minutes we were at the station. Shashi inserted himself in one of the queues for local train ticket to Haldia and asked me to locate his brother around the Food Plaza in the station complex. Though the food plaza is not very far from the ticket counter, I took a longer route to arrive there and locating Mani bhaiya wasn’t tough. He was waiting by the front wall beside the entrance of the railway restaurant as if he was Enrique Iglesias. We talked obvious formalities and waited for Shashi to join us. Mean while I knew that one of his friends is expected and we will have lunch.
Shashi took 15 min to come and when I came back after taking four thali coupons Mani bhaiya’s friend was there too. After munching on the lunch brothers were off to Haldia. I bade goodbye to Mani bhaiya’s friend there itself and walked.
My watch was just beyond 15 minutes after 2 o’clock. I had this question loud in my mind, ‘What now?’ I had more than 3 hours to spend and my only resource was my ipod. The chief limitation was my blanket laden backpack. I usually do not sit on a railway platform; I keep roaming here and there to tick the time away. I decided against sitting this time too and moved out of the station to have a smoke. It lasted only 5 min against 30 minutes as it seemed.
No problem! Rafi Saab was going on and I was inching every platform. I was enjoying the melodies, trying to observe each and every detail my ambiance had to offer. There are a lot of thought catching activities going on a platform every possible minute of our stay, rats to dogs, ties to rags, trains to trolleys, pullers to pushers, skirts to burkas, feet niked to bares, smiles to frowns, laughs to cries, anaemia to obesity, footpath to GAP and all patterns of facial hair to name a few. I was happy some where that I was cruising through my waiting time before the ipod went silent. It had run all night and was drained off electrochemical power. It was not 3 yet. Suddenly my bag became heavier like I cannot take it any longer.
Howrah station has two portions, old and new connected by a walk over bridge. South and South East bound trains leave from the new side. My train was also expected on the new side. So I moved towards the new side. I had better chances of getting a seat there as crowd picks up there usually late in the evening and nights. I walked to the wheeler and gave a casual glance around. Asked for book I have long been enquiring about at stalls, failing to recognize my demand the shop owner shifted attention to more potential customers. I kept on looking for something that could interest me sufficiently long in continuation. I pointed out this compilation of quotations, “Dictionary of Quotations” by some Alfred John. Flipping through some pages and after going through the back cover I decided to buy it. “The quotations were from luminaries from various walks of life encapsulating the most profound wisdom, ideas, ideals, dreams, sentiments and truths of man kind arranged alphabetically and subject wise.”, as it said. I was so tired that I did not argue the way I habitually do while bargaining.
I was lucky as I located an elderly couple vacating a pair of seats around the corner and I almost fiercely captured it. Positioned my bag and with a fulfilling glance all around opened my pastime.
Some notable ones are following;
Let us, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
--------------------- H.W. Longfellow
It is not the ape, nor the tiger in a man that I fear, it is the donkey.
----------------Thomson
The world is governed more by appearances than by realities so that it is fully as necessary to seem to know something as to know it.
------------Daniel Webster
What in me is dark
Illumine, what’s low raise and support;
That to the height of this argument
I may assert eternal providence
And justify the ways of God to Men
----------John Milton
A good man can be stupid and still be good. But a bad man must have brains.
--------Maxim Gorky (My Fav. Author)
If you get simple beauty and naught else,
You get about the best thing God invents.
----------Robert Browning
The goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness.
------------Shakespeare
Why is that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral. It is because we are not the person concerned.
------------Mark twain
A blind man is a poor man, and a blind a poor man is; for the former seeth no man, and the later no man sees.
------------H.W. Longfellow
The best of what little I managed to go through while in full consciousness:
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and their shadows deep
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrow of your changing face.
-----------W.B. Yeats
The content seemed very virtuous and entertaining to me and I went through thick and fast. All know that heavy articles demand slow movement through natural means and if denied co-operation cause fatigue and early failure of the resources. I was in dire need of refreshment amidst increasing chaos, both native and produced by the nature of my ambiance. I already had my allergic rhinitis bout right through the day. Right then the broom disturbed the settled dust on the floor raising clouds I don’t fancy breathing in. I already was short of nose wipes and had again to stroll with bag on my back and hand masking my nose.
While entering ‘Comesum’ for a coffee, more for therapeutic relief than refreshment I sneezed every 8-10 steps. After putting my bag down in a corner I took my black sugarless coffee mug in one hand and pulled out my hanky with another with a view to avoid any potential embarrassment with my sneezes on. The coffee seemed to work soon and the frequency went down with only my running nose left to manage. I looked here and there while slowly enjoying the coffee. The place was buzzing with people and I was forming images about them. Some were noticeable some were not but I noticed them all, not out of shear meaning of noticing them but to pass through the two eternal hours. I noticed people talking over phones and there are inestimable ways they do that. From age to holding style, from volume to gender there are various constituents to this analogy of zebra pattern. I minced through my void thoughts and titled my mug perpendicular to have the last viscous drop of coffee when a group of young seemingly professional women entered the café.
They did not seem to be very connected with each other but moved in as a group if there was some unscripted and established agreement. Some of them moved to the counter and the show case to enquire about the offerings, the rest were either stationary or moving discreetly, one or two whispering over phones. I found them decently and fashionably clad with an air of urbane and feminine perfumery. Although I had a sick nose, still the cocktail of the fragrances was detectable. An idea struck me when I saw a very stylish and sophisticated phone in one of those hands.
The next moment my left hand plunged into the left pocket of my jeans and pulled out my Sony Ericsson S312, ‘yeh sirf dikhta mahnga hai’ type of phone. I rampaged the keypad, Main Menu >> Connectivity >> Bluetooth >> Turn ON >> Search for Devices.
Eventually the green bar progressed to fetch me some 7-8 names.
Vishal
Gopi
Nokia **
Nazeef Khanum
Virus
…
…
The rest of the names I have forgotten just like we forget the mango pieces after picking a ginger piece from a mixed pickle bottle. I eye picked up the one loquacious name from the list and scanned the space around me as if I had some miraculous capability to recognize any stranger from the name of his/her Bluetooth device itself. The name deemed off any masculine traits and in my belly I had already inferred that she was one from of the fragrant bunch. I had not needed this amount of courage whole my life as in to ping her on Bluetooth. After finger combing my dull dark brown hair and wiping facial oil with one hand and phone in another up my face and mustering sufficient courage I selected the name ‘Nazeef Khanum’ and entered the pass code as ‘123’. And with ‘waiting for Nazeef Khanum to accept’ on my phone screen I started to check faces for the expected facial slide show in people with phones in their hands.
She was the third or fourth face as I remember and had a phone in her hand which had just beeped. She reacted late to her Nokia beep and seemed astonished by the involuntary beep and shake. She may not be in a habit of many incoming text messages, I guessed. She must have seen ‘NimbusNomadic’ waiting to be accepted or rejected asking her to enter a pass code which she had no idea about.
‘Had it been some other creature I would have let the Bluetooth saga pass unnoticed by cancelling the proposal from my side’ I think now. The couple of seconds after which her nerve cells transferred the vibration and sound to her brain and deactivated the then thoughts going on I took to visually confirm the identity and declined to retreat from the stage of my ‘kill boredom’ endeavor.
What Next? I made my presence prominent enough by moving slightly in her direction with my eyes shuttling between my phone screen and her face. This rally was broken when I was noticed within 3 mtr of approach and I gestured with phone in my hand as if she was waiting for me.
“It’s me, and the pass code is 123” pointing to myself waved my palm feebly to her.
At first she could not understand if it was she I was addressing to, then she took half a step backwards in possible self defense or controlling her stature when approached by a stranger. The facial expression she adorned that moment would remind anybody of the baby faces encountering bearded and ugly friends of their fathers. Then out of amazement and with a sense of harsh interrogation she asked, “kya?” .
We were so apart from each other that if we both would have extended hands to each others' the middle fingers had chances of touching. Such was the gap between many possibilities and combination of incidences. I knew the persuasion part was the toughest and needed the best attention and care, appropriately sculpted words with certain fluidity but prompt and calculated pauses. The after-effects of mishandling the situation could have fetched severe results, as roasted as blue and black public beating. My mind and body went fluttering like our tricolor does on our politicians’ cars; though I went on neglecting it just in the same fashion they neglect the flag. Such was her appearance that experiencing the apparent chastity tempted me to the extent of getting dragged to her. My throat felt paralyzed and my tongue uttered the words coming from some unknown depth over riding the throat.
“Please ! Pareshan na hon. I am Ahmad. mera aisa koi irada nahi hai jisse aapko mushkil hogi . main kafi der se is jagah pe apni train ke intezaar mein hun, joki five thirty ko scheduled hai. Abhi bamushkil sarhe teen baje hain aur main already itna bor ho chukka hun ke station ki yeh ghadi sharma jaegi. Kya main aapse thodi der baat kar sakta hun.” I gushed though it.
She was about 5-3, With rich flawless skin in good sub continental fairness and facial features which we don’t get to see every other day in our neighborhoods, her not very long tresses were mono-clutched strong and low, looked sharp and elegant in her gray white wavy striped kurta with little embroidery and small black bead work along the simple non-revealing neck, borders and sides and a regular long necked monte carlo cardigan. It’s an old saying in England that if you want to know about a person look at the shoes. They were not exuberant but smart, shiny and silent. Not many people do justice to their names, yet very few of them are in complete harmony. ‘Nazeef’ in urdu means ‘Nafees’ or ‘Nafasat-wala’, in English I can interpret it as ‘one with exquisite finesse’.
I saw countless expressions, just as many as can be attributed to a subtle face humanly possible in 100 years of once life time, flash after flash. Her face changed all colors fair indian skin can exhibit ranging from red to yellow tone oozing from underneath. She ended up with a frowning frame with touches of anger and amazement.
“Kya?” then after a saliva swallowing pause she asked with prominent rage, “Aapko kaise YEH laga ki hum aapse baat karenge? “
I was taken aback and that interrogation sent jitters to my spine, so I went into complete defense with as innocent face I thought I can make. Then with one backfoot cover drive I gave the possibilities one last chance to flourish.
“main janta tha, kisi ko bhi ajeeb lagega”. Then I swallowed for a similar pause.
“koi baat nahi, maine socha ke shayad aapke paas bhi kuchh waqt ho. Bluetooth to ek bahana tha kisi ko dhoondhne ka. Ab mujhe kya pata tha ke yeh aap niklengi aur baat nahi karengi”.
I again swallowed, made my eyes as round as possible and remained silent looking downwards with an offset from her. Oh God! It worked. Eureka! Even in my wildest of dreams I haven’t yet fancied talking to such a feminine human with such craftsmanship, rather draftsmanship, I am an engineer.
I cannot imagine what might have gone through her mind. Had I been in her place I would never have talked to somebody like me. May be she found the place ‘Comesum’ secured enough to have a little adventure. She made a face with high eyebrows squeezed chin and one-fourth of a smile.
“wellllllllllll” she said like a typical girl with deep doldrums
“I am Nazeef……..Nazeef Khanum”
“And I hope ke tum aur baatein nahi karna chahoge jab main yeh kahungi ke main yahan apne husband ka wait kar rahi hun” She tried to dissuade me once again
ANS : phir to theek hai, who gana hai na ‘ye mulaqat ek bahana hai’ isko change kar dete hain aur kahte hain ‘ye mulaqat ek fasana hai’. [Somewhere I didn’t like that announcement, but let it go]
She laughed ….I died.
NK : kya karte ho? Student ? [Still the monotone was there]
ANS : Ek second! Coffee lengi aap?
NK : No thanks! [She pulled out ½ liter BISLERY bottle which was half full, took an unimaginably small gulp. I gazed then guised “where from do these girls get things we don’t usually find, uniqueness and novelty are two statutory requirements of girls what ever be the age..cloths,..accessories…,pens… and even toothpicks. I mean you always get to see new and different items there.” I reordered my coffee.]
ANS : I am a mechanical engineer with TCE, TATA Consulting …………….
NK : TCS? [People always do that, my company fights stiff recognition competition with group company TCS which is widely known to all]
ANS : No. T C E, TATA Consulting Engineers Ltd., we offer consultancy services to engineering projects.
NK : ok (her interest oozed out with my explanation)
ANS : Aur aap?
NK: I am in HRD with ATLAS Healthcare
ANS: HR walon ko bhi naye logon se baat cheet karne ko ITNA (I stressed on it) waqt lagta hai? Tajjub hai... [Then gave a sly smile]
She smiled to my smile even more slyly.
NK: Are aise bhi koi baat karta hai kya? "main bore ho raha hun, gup karengi?"
[She quoted me with 3 ppm drama, it felt melodramatic to me]
ANS: Waise aap ki gadi ko kitni der hai? kahan jana hai , kahin Jamshedpur to nahi chal rahi hain?
[I dont know how to imitate her "NO" in writing. As if Jamshedpur was some place in Sudan. ]
NK: NO! Actually my husband is arriving in Poorva from Delhi. Main jaldi free ho gayi to socha ke yanhi se saath chale jayenge.
ANS: OK
[I nodded like back benchers do in physics classes]
NK: Kya baat karoge? Ab main jaun?
[She was trying to make me feel like she has already granted me 10 million euros, and will not give me more unless I plead for it. They all do this to good men, and they cannot do this to bad men because they fear them.]
ANS: Ab to main yeh bhi janta hun ke aapko bhi intezaar karna hai. Mohtarma agar aap thodi narmiyat se pesh aayen to kya bura hoga. yeh inteha nahi hogi kya ke do log jinme jaan pehchan ho aur wo log yahan alag alag chup chap bore hon.
[I tried authoritativeness.]
NK: Phir bhi baat kya karoge.
[She was adamant]
ANS: Share some sweet sour experiences, I ll narrate one two from my archives and we will soon see your husband coming and my train whistling. If you feel like having a coffee kindly help your self so that main usme kuchh mila na paun. [I laughed and she joined me for the first time, I gestured her to have her coffee]
She returned with lemon tea.
NK: Humesha aise hi karte ho stations pe? kitne logon ne baat ki hai ab tak..
[I was getting furious, but felt misery more than fury in not returning her a befitting reply. but the feeling vanished very quickly because we dont get such beautiful strangers to have coffee over talks]
ANS: Yeh to achchhi mushkil hai. “ho na ho tum chor ho" yeh sochna ladkiyan kab chhodengi. Chaliye main hi shuru karta hun.
[I started with my family background and how well I managed my mediocre academic profile through out and then ended through how amazing was it to talk to a stranger who shares the name with my new nephew. She nodded in between and asked obvious inquisitions, and I tried my best to keep her intrested and entertained with my face and words.It was 4 O'clock. My nose was feeling better and we had run through our drinks which were ghastly different. I asked her if she would like to roam about the place and she declining she reordered her tea and asked me if I would go encore. I suggested her swap of tastes and she agreed. I gave the scenario a twist by making her promise that she would finish the coffee.]
NK: [coughed] kaise peete ho? Isse bekar coffee maine kabhi nahi pi hai.
ANS: Look you cannot blame a machine if you do not know how to operate it. Main bata hun kaise peete hain. Pahle ek ghoont pani le lijiye.[She followed] Now take a small sip and move it around your mouth well before swallowing it to liven up your taste buds and to get acquainted with the burnt taste. ab thodi thandi hone dijiye aur yeh soch ke pijiye ke yehi coffee hai. You will find it better than your creamy cappuccino.
NK: bakwaas
ANS: You have promised to finish it.
NK: Koshish karungi.
ANS: Ab aapki baari hai.
NK: Fine!
[She sighed ...I winked]
NK: Main Bhopal se hun. Mere husband Jabalpur se hain. He is in Reliance Communications. Apni shaadi 4 mahine pahle huyi.[ She intended to finish everything in four brief sentences]
ANS: Affaired ya arranged?
NK: Yeh main tumko kyun bataun?
ANS: OK! As you wish. Main to flattery bhi nahi kar sakta, jaan ke kya kar lunga.
NK: hmmm. baat to hai. Humare yahan families bahot conservative hain. Scope nahi hai love marriage ka.
ANS: I see! I sense a failed endeavor here.
NK: hushh! nahi main bata rahi hun bas..
ANS: chaliye chhodiye. Hobbies?
NK: aaaaaaaaaa .nahi kuchh khaas nahi..
ANS: phir bhi, kuchh to hoga.
NK: kahan yaar . School mein cartoon banati thi... bahot din huye... ab khana banati hun..
[We both laughed. For the first time I saw in her eyes that she enjoyed it. Even after tasting sugarless bitter coffee. I was elated in my heart upon being called 'yaar'.]
NK: tum kya kya karte ho? I mean hobby wise.
ANS: main to bahot kuchh karta hun aur kuchh bhi fruitful nahi karta.kahne ko purane gaane collect karta hun... gana aata nahi hai..gale ko upar wale ne loch se mahroom rakha hai. thoda bahot likhta hun.. to koi padhta nahi hai..driving karna pasand hai ..kabhi kisi rally ka mein participate nahi kar paya... aur kya . bas aisa hi hai.chhote kaamon ke liye bada hun bade kaamon ke liye chhota hun.
NK: ek baat to hai, bahot baatooni ho.
ANS: sabko yehi shikayat rahi hai.
NK: ek baat hai .. ajeeb hai ke humlog aise baat kar rahe hain .. matlab ek dum ajeeb hai.
ANS: Ji haan kal ko aap to bhool jayengi, main afsos karta rahunga ke 4-5 mahine pahle Bhopal ghoom aana chahiye tha.
[I knew I crossed the limit there by some millimeters but she digested it and turned the topic]
NK: Are sabhi chali gayin lagta hai.
ANS: Except them.
[I eye pointed two girls over a distance out side the cafe]
NK: Maan gaye.. aapki paarkhi nazar...
ANS: aur Nirma super dono Ko...
[I completed it and laughed aloud]
NK: matlab main nahi hoti to inme se koi hota kya. Chance le lo yeh unmarried hain.
[She informed]
ANS: Genuinely Unintrested !
[This is one phrase i always use when people suggest me to go after girls] yeh aur baat hai ki I have got keen obsevation and am always aware of activities around me. [I grinned]
I do not really know when we both finished our drinks. At some point which I do not remember while writing I pointed out to her that she has finished her coffee, and she replied with appreciation for the taste the black coffee left.
NK: No. Seriously. aisa din koi kaise bhool sakta hai. pata nahi mere husband ko jab bataungi to kaise react karenge.
ANS: batana zaroori hai kya ?
[I tested her ]
NK: are nahi yaar! yeh to pata chalega ki aise mein kaise react karte hain.
ANS: hmmm .OK it’s up to you. Panga hua to mujhe dosh mat dijiyega. maine kahan kaha tha baat karne ko.
NK: waah ! tum kah kab rahe the tum to ro rahe the.
ANS: chaliye yeh bhi yaad rahega. aaj ke baad kya hum log kabhi baat karenge, kya kahti hain aap.
NK: pata nahi. koi khaas wajeh to nahi dikhti.
ANS: wajeh ho sakti hai.
NK: yaar tum to mera ghar ujaad doge.
ANS: maine mazaq kiya bhai. Then let us mutually decide that we will not exchange phone numbers or email ids. DONE? Khush?
NK: main kaun sa dene wali thi.
ANS: aap baat mat kijiye aap ki koi chhoti bahen hai to uska number to de dijiye.. yaqeen hai wo kuchh kam nahi hogi aapse.
NK: ladke saare aise hi hote hain, tumne bhi prove kar diya.
ANS: you should work on your humour, it’s an absolute necessity for HR people. I am genuinely unintrested.ladkiyan bhi na ..thodi si taareef huyi nahi ke bas.
NK: chalo chhodo bhi. Train ka waqt ho raha. inhone announcement nahi ki ab tak.
ANS: do minute rukiye main pata karke aata hun? Bag chhod ke jaun?
NK: nahi main ise lekar bhag jaungi.
[ I left my bag with her to make enquiry about Poorva Express and came to know that it was half an hour late and expected around 17:15, I returned to Mrs. N Khanum within a couple of minutes and announced. ]
ANS: hazrat adha ghanta late hain.
[Hearing it she chuckled and I knew more about her with that chuckle. It said a lot more than she wished to tell a stranger. She longed to see him and even 30 minutes of delay sank her heart for a while, very quickly then she switched from our chit chat to an Indian muslim woman waiting for her husband to come. In a couple of seconds she came back to senses and became aware that she was guarding a stranger's bag.]
ANS: Shall we have one more tea and coffee round?
NK: Nahi yaar ab rahne do. [She was in no mood for that]
ANS: Aa hi rahe hain na. Indian Stretchable Time se zyada umeed nahi rakhte , yeh to bhala hai ki sirf aadhe ghante ki baat hai.
[I tried to cheer her up a bit and it brought her a ppm scale smile]
NK: haan kar bhi kya sakte hai. Tumhari train bhi to aane wali hogi.
ANS: abhi waqt hai
NK: maza aaya yaar . naya kuchh experience kiya maine.
ANS: ab aapko kya bataun aap se poochhte waqt meri kya halat thi. Sau saal ka Buddha bhi kam thartharata hoga.
NK: but you looked confident
ANS: who to main hi janta hun. achchha aap bataiye us waqt aap kya soch rahi theen. Sach boliyega
NK: Pahle to laga ke tum paise mangoge ye kahke ke paise khatm ho gaye hain ghar jana hai. Phir laga ke tumhari niyat kharab hai. Scene ban jata is liye maine socha chalo khud hi handle kar leti hun, kafi bheed hai yeh dekh kar dari nahi. Phir dheere dheere samjhi ke , tumhari language mein, koi panga nahi hai.
ANS: wow. Upar wale ne shakl thodi behtar di hoti to shayed shuruati impression different hota. Anyway nimbusnomadic.blogspot mera blog hai, uspe kuchh kuchh likhta hun. Tabiyat hogi to padhiyega.
NK: main aage tumse koi baat nahi karne wali. Tumne hi decide kiya hai.
ANS: I know. Who is telling you to talk to me..just visit the webpage if you feel so. I am doing marketing for my composition. Is my message conveyed clearly?
NK : yes yes . I got it.
ANS: I know you will not remember a letter of the web address. Had I been a salesman instead of an engineer I would have been a very assertive one. Write it down somewhere.
NK: bolo
[she opened her cellphone and waited while looking me. I spelled the web address and she saved it.]
It was 17:10, and I was internally setting myself up to depart.
ANS: Mrs. Khanum, I will treasure this conversation, every minute of it. You don’t know how it has served me as a life saving drug.
NK: hmm.. ja rahe ho.?
ANS: Haan ji, aap kahen to shreeman ji ke aane tak ruk jaun. Bas train daud ke pakadni hogi.
[we both laughed for the last time there, I picked up my bag and mounted it on my back. We left the café together.]
ANS: phir kahin mile to baat karni hai kya?
NK: Bore hote hue mile to sochungi.
[She smiled ... I returned]
I extended my palm to be hit in reciprocation, She did it.
NK: Thanx for your coffee. Bahot gandi thi.
ANS: taste yaad rahega madam!Chalta hun.
ALLAH HAFIZ.
NK: ALLAH HAFIZ
I turned away from her and started to walk. I had barely gone 50 mtr. and it felt that she had followed me to some distance. I turned to see her. She was gone in the crowd, nowhere to be located. I even strained to the place where I left her but she was not there. It was like a child losing a white and round pebble which he had picked from sea side sand. In desperation I waved my hand in her direction to bid adieu to the air there and a hand popped out of the crowd that waved to me.
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I could not recall the whole conversation, the above conversation is as much as I managed to remember in exact frames.
The following text in red is solely and intentionaly written for Mrs.Nazeef Khanum, if this webpage ever faces her.
SORRY
I thank you to have such an enchanting chat with me.
---- NimbusNomadic
Mamu, bahut sahi likha hai. Aise laga jaise main tum dono ko coffee peete, baat karte, idhar udhar dekhte dekh raha hoon aur aise jaise ekdum khareeb hoon aur mera kaam that sirf tum dono ko dekhna aur kuch nahi. hahahah. bahut khoob...
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