So I am no love guru. And if you thought this post is all about my experience on break ups I’d be happy to disappoint you. This piece is something more serious and dreadful than a break up. I happen to encounter this incident a few days ago in Metro and I had an instant heartache.
It was a usual morning. Sunny day, children with their bags, grown ups with their suitcases readying up for the day. As a child, this moment used to be the hardest for me to leave my beloved home for the atrocious school. Later college changed this mindset, of late office seemed to have revived that vibe again (Hi Boss I know you are reading this). Meanwhile I am standing at one of the Metro Stations to board a Metro to my office. I see hordes of corporate junkies around me. These people know the exact time when a Metro arrives , even when the metro is running late (they seem to have an organized network i suppose). And then there are the pretty ladies straight out from a fresh bath queuing up with their wet hair . Everything seems so clockwork. The metro arrives and the amazing race to snatch a seat begins as if it is the throne of the seven kingdoms (Game of thrones fans might relate). I have over the course of time left it to Gods above to find me a seat. But there are many who know that “Bhagwan ke bharose mat baitho kya pata bhagwan aapke bharose baitha ho” (read as Atheism rules).
Now the deadly sin is about to take place. One such lady packed with all sizes of bags trips and spills the food packed in one of those millions bags on to the floor. There you go !! I see 2 hearts instantly broken. One who got up while the alarms clock thought its still night and put in all sweat to cook the food in time. And the second is obviously the one who would have had the privilege to eat it. The misery does not end there because now she does not have anything to eat. Along with that she has to see the spilled food like a funeral of a close one. To add to that the knowledgeable crowd now has all sorts of advice, judgment ready as if they were waiting for anything like this to happen. Sympathy is pouring in from all heavens. The whole coach feels obligated to the wretched who packed the food and wants to mourn this unfortunate incident. I am reading my newspaper and feeling sorry for the food. Cause food surpasses any love story and any break up. It needs no affection it needs a good connoisseur.It satisfies your needs as well as makes you forget all misdeeds.
The lady gets down on the next station. The people are back to their business. And I am recovering from the heartache trying to console myself its the food and not the feeling that office is here.