I am not fond of him, he is next door guy, very ordinary. In fact this time, I fell short of smacking him across his head, making him trip on the kerb - only to throw off the decayed carcass of a relationship that he carried like a backpack. I often make jokes about his ex- , he happily reverts that i have no heart to be wounded.
We call off the conversation as it is getting painful for him and my care, for him, pinches me. So we decide to meet Antiques trader; I reconfirm on the web that I havent met a more poor looking - rich man than him. He waits at an Irani cafe and doesn't order tea till we arrive, which is 20 minutes later. He is wearing the same shirt that he wore yesterday. It's funny how he saves up on all the money to buy crazy expensive paintings and books- sells them at twice the price only to buy more expensive ones. Ridiculous.
it's still not as interesting an aspect of his life when you comapre it to the women he dates. AT is a pauper looking, frail man with premature grey hair. He wears dull coloured shirts and old, mended trousers, a handmade cloth carry bag and speaks in heavily accented English. However, he charms the most beautiful and royal women i have met. Most have oodles of attitude that comes from the knowledge of being good looking, intelligent and rich! The combination is lethal in all ways- they find few men incapable injuring their pride as they treat half the globe as 'who r u?' look of twitching eyebrows. AT- who respects them: by maintaining a friendly distance in public and warming their walls in private by reciting Neruda or Baudelaire. He is a self taught man, with so much knowledge at his disaposal that you are almost jealous. At doesnt refuse being with them, at the same time he doesn't pride over it either.
AT, Faddy and I , end up discussing our loser lives: all back to being single, and AT remarked after I dumped my boyfriend, “Women get bored too soon, it's just something that a man has to accept. Too many things on their mind and a drive to prove they are better everywhere.” That remark was a comment on my, “It's wonderful to fall in love but the commitment that follows sucks the magic out.”
in the end i agreed with him- there is so much to do, my regretless break-up was a consequence of an overdose of Black Pearl being around me all the time: it was a good time but i missed out on a lot of things that i would have otherwise not. It marred my holistic growth and being together just didn't seem right anymore.'
We walk to the railway station, a beggar sits by the pavement under a famous sculpture of a cow – we look at the grim figure, his corn infested feet echo the moon that lies bare against the dead July sky. We don't have anything to share: its one of those very empty times.
I board the train coach and remember what Punching bag and i believe in: This too shall pass.
