Wednesday

I saw a girl today on road while running, thin, pale, fragile, probably Kannada, but maybe Maharashtrian, can be even Andamanan, if I had to put my money on it I will lose the money, nothing interesting about her, absolutely nothing, at one with the crowd around her and with the broken slabs beneath her feet and with the November smog, eyes lowered, small, rapid, abrupt steps, walking on an imaginary line as much as possible, wearing glasses, the kind of utilitarian frames that normal people reject on first sight, trying to get to office on time, out of habit, or out of fear, must be a lot of work waiting for her, and a coffee machine, and nothing else, yeah, probably a guy too, there is one for every girl in every office, parents calling on weekends, a job is good if it pays, don't really understand what you kids say, have found a guy of our caste, just three years older, has worked in Bangalore for six years now, was in Vancouver for six months once, that's in Canada, I know you know that, listen, you have to meet him at CCD the next Saturday, four years from now she will wait with her kid outside a small society for the schoolbus, there will be other women too, will tell her baby, say Hello to Karuna auntie, the baby will put its palms together, smiles all around, and then get back, get ready, walk the same road, to the office, past the crowd, oh fate you fucking joker, our paths cross in front of a chicken coop, puts her dupatta against her mouth, I am guessing she is vegetarian too, can inhale what the traffic offers but not the chicken stench, the green salwar accentuates her paleness, and then we pass each other, she walks to the bus stand, I run on, our eyes never met, what's there to tell about then, well, I kind of like her.