If the world is thrown at your feet; don't embrace it. Don't even lift it up ...

The Waiting Room

He had hidden his face partly with the cashmere muffler but those salt and pepper hair and inquisitive eyes were enough to give up his identity. It took only a single glance by the incoming stranger to recognize him. There was plenty of room in the waiting area but the stranger took a seat on his right side making it possible to observe him directly. The stranger shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he vexed to initiate a conversation.

It is a queer feeling watching someone in person whom you have seen all your life on television. What made the entire situation even more interesting was the premises; the stranger never expected to find someone of this person’s caliber to be sitting comfortably in a place like that without a hint of the usual security which accompanies such people. The stranger even hesitated to take out his cellphone from the inner pocket that it might be considered a suspicious move and some undercover agent might pounce on him from somewhere.

The television at the far end of the corner was turned on. The picture tube was probably malfunctioning as the corners of the screen were hazed with green color. A famous political talk show was airing; how apposite! It was not very uncommon for this person to be a part of this show every other day. On that particular day, another member of his massive political campaign was a part of the expert panel on the show.

After a while he casually glanced at the stranger. It was exactly what the stranger was waiting for; he stood up and extended his hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Sir”

The person nodded appreciatively; shook hands and then again focused his gaze on the television.

Bummer!

He needed to initiate a conversation; feeling drawn into the power vortex.  

While keeping his eyes on the television, the stranger remarked; “A poor Christian girl would be bullied for her alleged blasphemy but an imported cleric would be hailed as a messiah even after irrevocable proof of him issuing certain tickets.”

The trump card was played. After all they were sitting in a waiting area and as is the case with these waiting areas; sooner or later one of them had to leave.

Now the stranger had this person’s attention and the conversation began. He had hit the right spot as after that there was no stopping the other person. They had a healthy discussion on the political scenario and it left the stranger kind of perplexed. He never expected such a person to be so normal.

‘Baba’, a girl with disheveled hair and slightly stoned eyes called the person sitting in front of the stranger.  The former stood up immediately. It was time to leave. The stranger intentionally ignored the father and daughter. His instincts told him that this must be something sacred as it portrayed the sheer human side of this larger than life person.

They shook hands and parted while the stranger kept sitting there waiting for his turn. He felt sorry but at the same time he feared the initial pull he felt towards this person. It kind of dawned upon him as to why it becomes so difficult for political workers to disagree or even criticize their own political movement. The aura of power can neutralize rationality as one feels the urge to bask under the warmth of privilege.