NIGHT OUT (Prose)

By Vani P Nair -




    She thumbed through the pages of the booklet, looking at the intricate designs of bead work and laces. I was sitting in a corner of the redolent room that was teeming with activity. Every ten or fifteen minutes she would quickly glance at me and pass a smile. We had barely talked that day. Suddenly I felt a chill from the air conditioner. A toddler on all fours was gently tugging at one of the packets in my hands. I got up from where I was sitting and went up to her, leaving the bags behind on the couch. She sensed my presence behind her and pointed towards two photographs without lifting her head from the pages. I wanted her to look beautiful that day. By the time we stepped out from there, three hours had flown by. The Indian winter was slowly making its presence felt. 
    
    A number of auto rickshaws stopped beside us as we walked, but we shook our heads in unison and they left muttering a few incomprehensible words of disappointment. The city I had known for over sixteen years was proving to be more and more alluring with every passing minute of descending darkness. Several dull and sleepy buildings that I had ignored during my solitary strolls had suddenly taken up a life that was not discernible during the day. As usual, I was walking ahead and she was trailing behind. I leaned on the compound wall of a century old college that was once meant for boys alone. The wind was stronger and I could already tell that she was laughing. Some loud music was blaring from within a fancy restaurant from the first floor of a nearby building. 
   
     It was one of those places that dons an unassuming presence during the day, waking up only for those looking for an escape from the mundanities of the daytime during the early hours of late night. I took off my shoes and made myself comfortable on one of the chairs. She was going through the checklist once again. The huge window to our side gave a very clear view of the city beyond. I found the menu uninteresting and let her order something for sustenance. My eyes were searching for something of interest since she was busy talking with the waiter. She would be Mrs. X in a few days. A few days before, I had deleted the bucket list we had made together sixteen years ago in the same city. We knew there were a lot of things being left unsaid. 
    
    The silence between us in those moments were somehow seeming to be more articulate than we ever could be. We looked at each other and I could see a faint trace of another smile on her face. She leaned forward and held my hand in a tight grip. Almost immediately I could sense a sharp smell of a perfume. I felt someone sit behind me, very close to my chair. I knew the smile on her face then. A dulcet tone was humming in perfect unison with the alien music blaring from the speakers. The waiter came with a drink almost immediately for the hummer. He was a regular. While my olfactory and auditory senses were being engaged thus, we were finally coming the end of our dinner. I stepped out while she was paying the bill. He was sitting right next to the window and if I looked up I could see him.
    
     I heard her come down the stairs and we continued walking along the same path as before. I took a few steps and then asked her to wait. I was sure he would not notice me now even if I looked up at him. I retraced my steps back with mounting excitement. I looked up with trepidation at his frame sitting by the window, only to find his eyes boring into mine, almost as if he had been observing me all this while. I heard her call my name and ran back to her. I could feel his eyes following me. We continued to walk and she was talking to me something with gusto. The roads were almost empty and we finally got into an auto and headed home. A siren was blaring from the textile factory in the background, indicating the change of shifts and I told myself “HE IS A REGULAR”.

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