Jeudi, 21 juin 2007
"je suis nettement captivé par votre apparence", he told her smiling.
"yeh hi thikh hoga ki aapke nazaar jo mere upaar par padh rahein hein, vo apne aap ya apke coffee me jaein", she replied, having already established with him the fact that she did not speak English during their previous meeting. Nor did she feel the need to learn the language.
He sipped on his coffee. It was the third time they met in the same coffee shop, and sat not too far from each other. The second time, he initiated a conversation only to find out disappointingly that they didn't share a common language. He was, however, absorbed by her beauty. And the fact that a modern looking Indian woman didn't speak English, intrigued him all the more.
One of the reasons she often frequented this coffee place was for its location, opening up to vast gardens and almost giving way to the woods extending at the end of this clustered metropolitan Indian city. She enjoyed coming here after work, to take in a moment of silence before returning home, where she would be confronted by a chaos of a different kind - her family. Although captivated by this new occurrence, she started wondering if she would have to look elsewhere for her sought after calm.
Knowing that his poor English skills would not help improve the communication, he continued in French.
"Vous savez, si j'ose m'imposer, je n'arrive pas à suivre le fil de mes pensées. Il est temps que je décide le parcours de ma vie", he said, not knowing why he chose to say these words.
He didn't take his gaze off her eyes.
"Au faite, je suis pris par la force d'énergie qui m'efforce envers l'action. Le problème se pose car je me sens incapable de la suivre. Parfois, je ne me crois pas assez courageux. A vrai dire, le monde fonctionne de la manière dont on veut qu'elle fonctionne. Et là, parfois, je me déçois...."
He didn't understand why he felt comfortable opening up to her the way he just did. For some strange reason, it seemed easy talking to her, although he knew she had not understood what he had said.
She could feel that something was troubling the man. She didn't understand why he chose to share his problem with her, if, at all, he did do so. Nonetheless, she decided to offer him solace.
"Lag raha hein ke aap museebat me ho. Allah aapke rikya kare", she uttered, while offering a comforting smile.
He noted the use of the word Allah. He felt a warm sensation within him, and returned the smile. He responded with one of the few words he had learnt from this mystic country...
"Dhanyavad."
He then cleared his cheque, took to the road, waved at a rickshaw and disappeared into pandemonium of the city....
"yeh hi thikh hoga ki aapke nazaar jo mere upaar par padh rahein hein, vo apne aap ya apke coffee me jaein", she replied, having already established with him the fact that she did not speak English during their previous meeting. Nor did she feel the need to learn the language.
He sipped on his coffee. It was the third time they met in the same coffee shop, and sat not too far from each other. The second time, he initiated a conversation only to find out disappointingly that they didn't share a common language. He was, however, absorbed by her beauty. And the fact that a modern looking Indian woman didn't speak English, intrigued him all the more.
One of the reasons she often frequented this coffee place was for its location, opening up to vast gardens and almost giving way to the woods extending at the end of this clustered metropolitan Indian city. She enjoyed coming here after work, to take in a moment of silence before returning home, where she would be confronted by a chaos of a different kind - her family. Although captivated by this new occurrence, she started wondering if she would have to look elsewhere for her sought after calm.
Knowing that his poor English skills would not help improve the communication, he continued in French.
"Vous savez, si j'ose m'imposer, je n'arrive pas à suivre le fil de mes pensées. Il est temps que je décide le parcours de ma vie", he said, not knowing why he chose to say these words.
He didn't take his gaze off her eyes.
"Au faite, je suis pris par la force d'énergie qui m'efforce envers l'action. Le problème se pose car je me sens incapable de la suivre. Parfois, je ne me crois pas assez courageux. A vrai dire, le monde fonctionne de la manière dont on veut qu'elle fonctionne. Et là, parfois, je me déçois...."
He didn't understand why he felt comfortable opening up to her the way he just did. For some strange reason, it seemed easy talking to her, although he knew she had not understood what he had said.
She could feel that something was troubling the man. She didn't understand why he chose to share his problem with her, if, at all, he did do so. Nonetheless, she decided to offer him solace.
"Lag raha hein ke aap museebat me ho. Allah aapke rikya kare", she uttered, while offering a comforting smile.
He noted the use of the word Allah. He felt a warm sensation within him, and returned the smile. He responded with one of the few words he had learnt from this mystic country...
"Dhanyavad."
He then cleared his cheque, took to the road, waved at a rickshaw and disappeared into pandemonium of the city....
posted by manu at 5:15 AM
2 Comments:
feels like i've read part of a chapter out of a book here. i loved it. i could see the images in my mind.
heh, thanks :) i'm not too sure about my hindi though!
Enregistrer un commentaire
<< Home