Easy Mice and Men

The meeting got over at 6 in the evening. Precisely 6 minutes before Iftar. I had virtually no chance of finding a taxi. I tried my luck by calling the taxi service, hoping to find a Hindu Mallu taxi driver but no luck.

Thought I'll be better off in my quest to find a taxi driven by a Hindu Mallu on the road. No luck. A Pathan stopped but his face told me the expected story when I told him that it was Sharjah I wanted to go to. He was apologetic but I told him that it wasn't a problem and that he should put his meals first.

The good thing about it being Iftar time was the fact that I could smoke in the open. I pulled out my packet of cigarettes only to find none in it. Funny things these cigarettes, how perfectly they wedge themselves in between my lips. An object with a purpose. Much unlike me. Fortunately Spinneys was just across the road.

I walked into the Macgrudy's Bookshop inside Spinney's and browsed around, hoping to find something that could keep me occupied. How I missed a good book. One that kept me occupied, also murmur to myself, "My thoughts exactly” or painted a new picture or gave me a road map just me gave joy....you know what I mean.

Like with the Taxi and the empty packet of cigarettes no luck here as well. I was aghast. A man who cannot find a book to read in even a modest bookshop (and this outlet was just a notch above modest) has nothing to look forward to. Random thoughts raced across my mind. None of them any good.

I bought a pack of cigarettes and on the way out fortunately found a cab driven by a Pakistani, who must have finished his meals.

The disturbing random thoughts still prevailed even when I got home. I thought I'll listen to some of my music. Some thing that I had not done in quite a while. I got the CD that Mukul had cut for me of all the songs that I had on the hard drive in Bombay. All my favourites. I skipped 145 songs and still couldn't find one that I wanted to listen to. One that gave me the 'joy' that I was seeking. I began to like a few but then realised after sometime that I was only pretending.

The songs just played and I kind of half listened to them. I picked up a book randomly from the bookshelf.

John Steinbeck's, Of Mice and Men. Parul had recently bought this along with a few other books. I had one copy in Bombay also but never got around to reading it. It was lent to me in Mudra by Rhitwik Bhattathiri, a Lab scientist turned client servicing boy from Cochin. We shared a Taxi at times. We spoke mostly about music and books and he spoke a lot about this book and then one day he got it for me. I promised to promptly return the book to him after reading it. Needless to say, the book was lying unread when I packed up my bags to come to this part of the world. At that time I even made a mental note of couriering the book to him to his new office but just didn't get around to doing it.

I got past the first page and the second. Hope stirred. The continuously approaching guitar riffs in the background were music to my years. Song 188 and Mike Patton cried out, 'I'm easy like a Sunday morning'.

I look forward to the week.