A Morning Affair

It was a wintry December morning as he stood outside in his balcony and watched the street below, still lit by the silvery white light of the solitary streetlamp and the leaves of the gulmohur yet to gain discernable colour. As was his practice (off late), he sipped on crisp, cool water that he poured into a whiskey glass. The water was cooled by leaving it outside in the balcony in a steel bottle which, he thought, allowed the water to cool ‘naturally’ without gaining the frigid texture of water that is left overnight inside the refrigerator. As he drank, he recalled that it had been a while since he recited out loud, “The Law of the Jungle” as Kipling had propounded it and listened to the isolated sounds of the early morning. The lazy protests of sleepy dogs awoken by the bored buzz of the paper-boy’s scooter, the soft even rhythm created by the brooms of the municipal workers who wore bright orange vests over their sarees, scratching dirt and muck off the surface of the tarred street leaving it broader in their wake, and the soft swish of clothed bodies that walked swiftly–arms and hips swinging as they walked in rapid circles around the parking lot of the building that the balcony overlooked, hardly breaking a sweat and barely having a clue as to what they needed to do. The maidservant’s little girl had once come up to his balcony while her mother did the dishes and wisely observed, “Bhaiya, they are not going to lose weight by running like this in circles. They need to stop eating. Then they will lose weight.”

The watchman of that building was walking the terrier pup of one of the residents. The pup was a new acquisition and an ebullient little fellow. He walked in bounds and ran in leaps. At least that was his way two weeks ago. Between then and now he had a rough time of which Rupert had seen a little. The pup was tied to a tree and every time he could see his master walk around in his pointless circle he would get up barking wanting to join his papa/mama on the pointless run and pup would be rewarded with a resounding whack. This was how it happened: man/woman (in expensive gymwear) would turn the corner and pup who had been sitting on his haunches softly whimpering with his head sunk deep into his chest would rise up on all fours. His tail high up in the air, whirring like chopper-rotors, he would begin to pine and then let out excited little yelps. The ‘pet-parent’ would slow their pace, glide off their imaginary track and land a resounding slap across the hapless animal’s face leaving it momentarily stunned. By the time he got back up, they were gone and he sat there alone and hurt wishing to be let off the leash. And they would turn that corner and the same excitement and ugliness played out unfailingly, quite literally, on loop. Today, pup was a different person. The watchman had taken off his leash and repeatedly rubbed his head and belly goading the little chap to go on and take a run around the lot, but pup just sat there at the feet of the watchman and both of them stood there in that silver-lit cold morning looking at one another not knowing what to do.

It was then he heard the sound of flip-flops floating through the morning air, and it was a surprise to him as he knew by instinct that it did not belong to that hour of the day. Still faint, it came from the darkened end of the street of which, except for the feeble night light of someone’s balcony, all else remained invisible. His suspicion that it was signal of some kind was confirmed when he noticed the figure of a man appear from behind his building and slip into the shade of the darkened tree. No sooner had he dissolved into the darkness, he turned on the flashlight of his phone and the slip-slap sound of slippers paused for a second and half. When the sound resumed, he could now make out the faint outline of a woman-she was wearing a thick sweater, and possibly a stole wrapped around her head like a bonnet. Walking in quick, small steps she walked a straight direct course for the tree. She dipped into its darkness and came out holding the man by his arm and placed him under the direct light of the solitary street lamp. Rupert recognised that man. It was the boy who worked the restaurant where he had his evening punnugulu and vada. His was an easy face to recognise. The boy was dark and had big buck teeth that stuck out a good foot from his face. Deeply tanned and maybe a few shades short of being black, he had a cheery disposition and a ready smile for just about everyone. He also seemed like one of the more popular lads in that eatery as he did just about everything that required to be done. Mixing chutneys, chopping onions, fetching fresh batter, packing parcels and counting the cash. He did everything and was never seen to complain. It also once occurred to him once that maybe the kid was always seen smiling because it required quite some effort for him to keep his lips pursed. Nonetheless, he was a hardworking lad and he never complained. All he did was smile and shrug when anyone acted out at his workplace.   

Now as he stood under that light the girl spoke to him softly and swiftly and through short hand gestures that clearly indicated an agitated state of mind. She was definitely angry. Rupert suddenly realised that he was the involuntary witness to a lovers’ tiff. He could only see the back of her bonneted head but the look of seriousness on the boys face told him all he needed to know. The boy had a slight frown and lips were pursed. His eyes were fixed on the girls face and he was looking for that pause where she would draw breath and he could begin speaking. When at length she did finally stop, she looked up at the boy and he looked down at her. It was now time for him to speak and he did what he did best. His big brown shoulders loosened and he flashed his famous smile and turned his palms upward indicating utter helplessness. The girl grew even more agitated at this and this was when he gave her a broader grin and shrugged his shoulders for good effect. This seemed to have an oddly calming influence on the girl and her taut back seemed to loosen and she now looked down at her feet. His hands now in his pockets he spoke cheerily to her and then indicated that he get back to work. She seemed reluctant to leave, but then slowly turned to walk away. The boy stood there for a moment, let out a chuckle, shook his head and walked back to his restaurant which was at the front of the building that Rupert lived in. The girl now walking slowly, seemed lost in thought as she dragged the heels of her now silent feet and then when she reached the edge of the light, she turned around. There was a slight movement on her face, which seeing that no words were being spoken, could only be a smile. She stood that way for a moment or two and then walked away towards the darkened end of the street. All was well.

Now sitting down in his chair and pouring himself his second glass of water that morning, it dawned upon him that time had indeed stretched on over the last five minutes. He always hoped to see nothing of interest when he woke up at that absurd hour and yet it now seemed to him that if there is time, and if there is life, there is always something happening. How foolish he had been to think otherwise.

_V. 12/12/2017