The Restaurant Corner TableA Story by IndrajitLosing & Finding LovePushing the heavy swing
doors of the restaurant, he looked up towards the clock, exactly 2:30 in the
afternoon. Taking off the rain coat, he slowly moved towards the table in the
corner, right in front of the glass wall facing the road outside. The drizzle
outside has settled down to a steady rhythm. It has become a weekly
ritual since that fateful day two months back. That too was a Friday; he had
planned for a lovely weekend with his fiancee; at least that’s what he believed
her to be. And he found her getting that huge bunch of Valentine roses, not
from him. That’s when she broke it him; all he did was raise his voice a notch
up to ask who the roses are from " when he believed himself to be her lover.
And she mercilessly broke his dream. As per her, it was all just his day dream;
she felt her to be a thirty plus guy, who is too ordinary and simple to expect
her to be his lover. She never saw him as a lover but just as a friend, whom
she helped. Just a friend? After all the emotions and attention he showered on
her. He kept
going back and forth in his mind for more than a month. And then one day he
came in to his favorite lunch joint, from his office during the late lunch
time, with a bottle of rat poison. Sitting on the corner table, right beside
the glass wall facing the road outside, he kept looking at the tiny bottle,
while his meal was getting cold. He was about to open the bottle; that’s when
he noticed the piece of paper lying on the seat next to his. A regular ordinary
tissue paper; with a pen drawn heart. At first thought it to be some childish
doodle. But then he noticed a few lines scribbled below. It said "
“Sitting across, I see the glint in your eyes that told me you are special!
Hope someday you will feel the same for me. " Yours ‘She’ !” Something
made him feel, it IS for him. Sitting across? He lifted his head to scan the
hall. It’s already past the usual lunch time, and hall was nearly empty. Only
three tables were occupied. A lady in the far corner, head covered n scarf;
couple of young ladies chatting away over the food; and someone behind with
back toward him, couldn't guess if it was a ‘he’ or a ‘she’. Which one of these
could be the one who wrote this? She saw him? And noticed the glint " in his
eyes? Is it one of these occupants? Or can it be someone who has left silently
before he came in? After all he always sits on this same table " everyday!
Wondering about the new found piece of paper he never realized when the bottle
went in his overcoat pocket from his hand. From that
day onward, every Friday he would get a paper napkin, with the familiar
feminine perfume, and words that made his world filled with hope. He felt rise
of hope and belief that he too after all can really be loved. Sometime he
thought of coming early to find out who she could be; to catch a glimpse of her
leaving the note. But every-time, Friday’s used to be nightmare with his boss.
Still he made sure to sneak out for his lunch " and the piece of love he
collected from the seat next to his. He already has a file full of it. He even left
back some hints. Sometime it was another letter asking for her identity. And
even a kiddish attempt, scratching the wooden table to write “I love you too!” He was not
sure if he can discuss it with someone. Not many friends and none so close to
discuss something so childish like love. He just hoped that soon she would have
enough courage to reveal her identity, and he will again walk with someone,
shoulder to shoulder. Day by day he was becoming confident of the outcome, and
it showed in the bounce of his steps. Just
before the thirty something man pushed the door open, the young waiter noticed
that once again today the group of college students sat on a different table;
one next to their usual table on the corner, right by the glass wall facing the
road outside. It’s the same group that has a silent couple he sees every time.
He saw them talking love through their eyes, and exchanging notes on paper
napkins. He also saw that day his regular customer who prefers the corner seat,
with the bottle, very suspiciously looking like a bottle of poison. The waiter
the cleaned the table of the college students, picked up the paper napkin from
the table and placed it on the seat next to the corner table, the one right in
front of the glass wall facing the road outside. © 2014 Indrajit |
Stats
139 Views
Added on February 17, 2014 Last Updated on February 17, 2014 Tags: Short Story, Fiction, Love, Romance, Emotions AuthorIndrajitDelhi, Delhi-NCR, IndiaAbout“I am Horus; the Falcon who is on the battlements of the mansion of him whose name is hidden. My flight aloft has reached the horizon, I have over passed the gods of the sky…” &l.. more..Writing
|