Do you believe in kismet? Notice the ‘e’ instead of the ‘a’ to testify my anglization of the word. Well, either word.. I believe it.
Yesterday I had written a hopelessly sorry and pathetic post about my past. Well.. it was one of those moments! I wanted delete it for sometime but then let it stay for some odd reason. It represented my state of mind for the evening and the following morning. I carried it through to my work and generally kept to myself. Noticing my unusual un-chirpiness, that word is quoted btw.. a friend decided to take me out for coffee. Half a cup into the evening, I was there checking a guy out. I don’t this often, but there was something very stimulating about him. I kept looking at him through the mirror. He was not your average hunk to go drooling over but was more a regular software engg types. Soon, his companion informed the chap about his new found “aficionado”. I know, guys tend to overstate. We do too. So, this guy turns around.. smiles with a raised brow and everything and walks right up to me.
With the continuing smile.. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
I thought that was a bit brusque and impolite. I thought it was an unwritten rule that coffee bars are a place where people exchange implicit looks. It was no grounds for an inquiry of any kind. By anyone.
“I beg your pardon!” the poor lil me exclaimed in a sense of absolute astonishment and ignorance.
The guy was rather taken aback by the antagonistic response. “Err.. sorry. I thought you were some one I knew.. sorry..” he excused himself and wimped out. I felt sorry for the guy. There he was standing in a popular societal spot being mortified by a girl who was till then checking him out. I gave a very assuring no-problem sign with the hand and a polite smile. He walked away nodding his head.
But he turned again, my eyes widened. “Are you not Dee?” he asked. That was my name alright. My eyes ran all over his face then pinned in. Then they exploded out. “ARUN!!!!?? You dog!!!!” I shouted out so loud that his face which balanced the pink tone then embraced crimson.
I knew that red faced wimpy canine. He was my ex’s band’s bassist. I had not met him in an eternity. He had this typical rocker look in those days, with long flowing tresses and unkempt beard.. torn jeans. They all wanted to be a cross between George Michael and Slash in those days. They failed miserably on both counts, thankfully. He was the Trainspotting connection. He had all the contacts, he was the man to get the maal.
As I looked at a man who looks far from the loser I once knew, for a moment, just for a moment I wonder – are coincidences for real?