Breakfast with an old man

My craving for Coffee House dosa goaded me to reach CH right when they open their doors at 8:30 am. I dropped my bag and helmet on a chair and walked to the wash basin. On coming back, I found an old man occupying the seat right opposite me despite numerous unoccupied tables. Surely, I thought, the old failed to take notice my possessions marking my occupation.

Anyway, I took up my seat, ordered and the dishes were fast on my table than I expected. Same goes for the old man, I believe. We both ate in silence 3 feet apart. This main had silver-black hair, lines of experience on his tanned, sun-burnt, dark face, no doubt marks of a outdoor livelihood. I observed unabashedly while he ate. There was something in his face which fixated my gaze; possibly the content of eating or the serenity that comes with age or being at peace. He ate with utmost focus, never even once to raise his head and look around. His countenance totally belied any assumptions of being tensed or worried.

On riding to work hence, I reflected, while I had a thousand thoughts running through my mind as I ate, this old man just ATE. I love this bit. A lesson for my racing mind.

Back to the coffee table. While I sipped on my lip-scalding coffee, I looked around. By that time most of the tables were abuzz. One reading a newspaper, one in deep meditation with eyes closed after placing the order, one talking away into his futuristic hands-free, two in an animated discussion, one dressed in semi-formals contrasted with bathroom slippers, a middle-aged couple tackling daily affairs over a cuppa, a techie deep into his document while the waiters languidly amble up and down the aisles..... Life is so stupendously, amazingly vibrant. It's not within, it's without!