Friday, March 20, 2009
Rehaana: part 1
He had been observing her for a while now, she was sitting alone at the table, a thick book in hand, specs on her eyes, a grey shwal over her, blue jeans and a pair of 3" heeled peep toe pumps in calf leather. A big mug of coffee, black and he hadnt seen her put any sugar in.
the Barista was still busy with another customer's order and so he stood there patiently waiting for his and observing her. There was a serenity to her which drew him towards her, and there was a pain to her that held his thoughts. He had seen many women sit alone at coffee shops, not that he hadn't felt the need to accost them, but then you don't randomly go and say hi to a stranger of the opposite sex do you, heck you don't even do it to one of the same sex. With the number of wierdos around it would take lots of guts for someone to be friendly with a stranger who comes up and says hi, not in the city, it's a jungle.
The first line that came to his mind was "buy me a coffee?" upon which he imagined her looking up towards him taking out a fifty note, putting it on the table and going back to her reading...maybe then something like...no not that either. It was like the movie Next where Nicholas Cage thinks of ways of approaching the girl at the table and sees the possibilities not working out.
So this time he just got up, he had no idea what he was going to say to the girl, but those eyes, that face...they just drew him to her. Luckily for him she looked up from her book just as he reached the table, he wouldn't atleast have to do that part. There was a question in her eyes...wtf!!! they asked, so many empty tables in the shop why are you here.
He kept his coffee mug at the table...i need to do some writing, and i feel uncomfortable sitting alone, makes me self conscious...would it be alright if i sat at this table, i promise i won't tell you the ending of the that book or disturb you.
She hadn't expected this...never in her imagination had she expected this...she didn't even realize that she had nodded him a yes...who the hell uses a line like that...it almost felt real...little did she know it was real...
but she gathered back her senses as he sat down and brought out his pen and a thick wad of loosely held papers...
but why me? she asked
i liked your shoes he said plainly and got down to inking whatever it was that he was inking.
She got back to her reading, sipping her coffee...but the stranger made her uncomfortable, but not in a way that she'd want to shoo him off or get up herself and leave. Somehow she felt the stranger understood her in an uncanny way, that is what made her uncomfortable.
She finally realized that she had to find out, all instincts in her told that this accidental meet was no accident that someone somewhere had planned this. That someone somewhere wouldn't let her be, not even after all the pain she had gone through, they were still after her.
What are you writing about she asked
"Rehaana" he said
Her eyes grew wide, "but I am Rehaana"
"I know", he looked up, he handed her a crumpled piece of paper..."you left your bill at the counter"..."its a beautiful name, my fingers twitched and I had to write about Rehaana".
She took a large sip of coffee, there are days very few of them that a holiday falls on a wednesday and you realize that you don't have to go to office, that you don't have to slog 20 hours today, and that its midweek. when you get up at 9 a.m., don't shower, slip into some clothes, take your book along and head out to your favorite coffee joint, where the people know you and know that you want to be left alone to read.
And then this happens. She wasn't very sure what to make out of it all...
so what about this Rehaana, whats she like in your writing. Rehaana is a small kid he said, she's 11 years old and lives with her grandparents in a hill station. She's a dreamy little kid but she's a prankster, likes chemistry and loves flowers, she grows them by the in her own garden that her grandpa marked out for her, and she spends her time there playing, reading.
*****to be continued