I have my feet resting on the opposite chair, half slouched on a cane chair with a bowl of chocolate ice cream along with a glass of espresso vodka right next to me and mooning over this movie.
There are some people you meet, completely out of chance, to think of it everyone we meet is out of chance. Out of the 7.2 billion people here, there must be a stroke of luck for us to meet. I wonder at times if we would talk to each other the way we talk now, over mails, twice a year phone calls, messages, or 3am calls, if we were to be passing each other on a street, or if we were standing in a line at the supermarket.
Would you glance, turn around, walk up to me and say hi?
Strangers are nice, maybe or maybe not. At times they remind me of lilies, slender, long green stalks with delicate white petals, or like a cup of coffee with warm cake, or lights in a wine glass. At times not some nice people too walk in, with motives, intentions, books of lessons to be learnt.
Like long walks on a sandy beach, licking popsicles, blue orange green, though the sad part is that there are no beaches where I live. Or sitting on a bench in a park listening to songs while the world walks by. Wolfing down the cheesiest pizzas topping them up with brownies at a shop around the bend. Soaking sun on a cold morning, like the smell of a second hand book, rediscovered.
I started writing which I now discover gave rise to this blog after watching this movie. The prospect of chancing upon a stranger, long random conversations, no specifics, about life, stars, winding roads, ferris wheels, fields of daisies and colours of the sky. Riding on a bike in Kashmir, relearning how to ride a cycle, dance without a care in the world and sing loudly even with a tone deaf voice.
To the stranger reading this, you won’t find me in pubs, bars or parties, on facebook or tinder, instead you may chance upon me in a café around the corner, nose stuck in a book, munching on crumbly Osmania biscuits with strong sweet chai at a makeshift shop, or mail me at email@example.com