two people

I wrote what you are about to read, in the back of an auto several years ago. I do not know why it has taken so long to find its way onto paper, but somehow tonight it has.

I had just gotten off a flight that had brought me to a city I had lived in for over five years and had now started to call home. Avoiding the overpriced taxi’s around the airport, I walked the short distance to the lane where autos were cheap and readily available. Perhaps because it was winter or perhaps because it was two in the morning, I found only one. And as one would expect, what followed as we bargained to set a fair price, was a shouting match between two people. One who had a monopoly and the other who had just arrived home.

The argument continued as we drove. The cold winter air and the absence of sleep did not help and soon like all bitter arguments our resentment of the logic behind what we were saying took a back seat to the resentment of who was saying it. Two people, one who was taking advantage of a situation and the other who could afford a flight ticket but not a few extra rupees for another mans troubles.

As we sped down the highway, noisily bending along with the road (much like our argument) we came across a gathering on the other lane. An auto had been in an accident and a man lay dead next to it. From where we stood we could not make out if it was the driver or the passenger. And it didn’t matter.

The rest of the journey was slow and silent. He dropped me off next to my house where a night paan shop stood open. I gave him the amount he had originally asked for and he shook his head. “Not tonight” he said. One of us bought tea for the other and we spoke. He of his world and me of mine. Two people. Both mortal.