The Ugly Orangish Yellow Papers

As if it matters, as if it ever did. Not necessarily though. Sometimes not at all. Sometimes all that matters is the moment. Now, here, present. That’s it. The present, lots of philosophy as to why it’s called the present, but doesn’t really matter. What matters is what. What is here and now.

Here and now. That was the name of the café at the corner of the street. That was where it had happened. A random meeting. Stupidity and uncertainty. Heady stuff. And then that was that. It was here and now. Spontaneous. For the moment, in the present.

Amazing cup of coffee, steaming hot with a hint of cream, just a hint. A round table and a guy sitting cross legs. Neatly done suit in black. Expensive and classy. A stupid business newspaper, ugly orangish yellow paper. She walked passed. Sat on the only empty table, the one directly opposite that ugly orangish yellow paper. The evening was beautiful and she ordered her coffee. Steaming hot with just a hint of cream in it. She looked around at the evening crowd. Young and old couples, groups of boys, groups of girls, mothers with babies, fathers with dogs on a leash, cars, bikes…basically the street. She loved to watch the street, it gave her in the simplest of the terms what is often difficult to get…variety.

She saw the variety of people mingling on the same street, without distinction of rich and poor, the street was the same to everyone. Even to that man with the nicely done suit and the ugly orangish yellow paper, and her. To the street, they were no different. It didn’t matter, not to the street. Then why were they so lost within themselves? She couldn’t answer it. So she decided to ask the man with the nicely done suit and the ugly orangish yellow paper. She picked up her coffee and her dumb bag, and went and sat at his table. She lowered his newspaper, the one with ugly orangish yellow papers, and asked, “Why are we so lost within ourselves?”

He was shocked by her bluntness. A strange hippy girl asking him a question that made no sense to him, he could not comprehend the situation, his business mind was too lost in the papers. “Excuse me?!”, that was all he could manage.

“No seriously. I mean why do two people, even though they are strangers, not talk? Why do they have to sit so reclusively as if the other person is carrying a contagious disease, which he may or may not, but that’s not the question. The point is, why do people behave like this? Why can they be not more chilled out?” she asked with all honesty and damn earnestly.

Flabbergasted, that word fits the description of his reaction. Confused, amazed, surprised, and many others of the like. “umm…” that was all he could manage.

She didn’t expect much either. He had uttered “umm” was more than enough, at least he had not said something like “Get lost hippy girl” or “weirdo” or “freak”.

He’s sane, she concluded.

“So how much does your job bore you?” she asked simply. The simplicity of the statement made him smile. “Not much” he replied with as much honesty.

And the conversation went on. They chatted about the weather, politics, football, movies and coffee, and of course, their respective bosses and how ugly but informative those orangish yellow papers are. The sun went down and it was twilight when they bid farewell. A beautiful purple haze with a tinge of pink and orange that was the hue the sky took.

They learned a lot that evening- about themselves, about the world and about the ugly orangish yellow papers. They learnt to tell their bosses to go hell, to use money wisely, to have fun, to work hard and enjoy it. They never met again. They just remembered each other every time the sky took that beautiful purple haze with a tinge of pink and orange it had taken that day, and everytime they looked at a newspaper with ugly orangish yellow papers. They never called each other because they hadn’t exchanged numbers. It was a random meeting, an impulse which brought two very different people from two very different worlds together for a short while. They learnt from each other and appreciated the world better. They finally learnt to smile at strangers. It was just the moments that they had spent together; that was the world then. And the moments they spent being lost within themselves became immaterial. They learnt not to spend the life worrying. There never was no harm in planning a bit, but the futility of the exercise of worrying became more apparent. They had learnt to live for the moment; they had learnt to live life.


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