Memento Mori!

It was a cold and mushy night cracking into dawn at its own sweet pace. I was waiting idly for the bus which would take me home. Looking at the people weaving around in all directions stopped amusing me when it started raining and what began as a caress on the nape turned very soon to naughty slaps on the back.

I took refuge in a tea shop nearby which soon began to get filled with refugees like me. Sipping a tea and wondering why tea tastes better when it rains I let my eyes wander through the gathering crowd in the shop. There were people of all ages huddling together without inhibitions; some with cigarettes and some with tea glasses but both cursing the downpour. I pulled my windcheater close to my body and looked at an older looking person who seemed amused a lot. Following his gaze, I realized he had been looking at the tea shop guy. The shop guy was wearing a ragged vest and a lungi and was too busy with his work to notice anything or anybody else except his stove and glasses.

Streaks of rosy light painted in the eastern sky promised a quicker dawn and the rains seemed to slow down. Though it was partly dark inside the shop, I couldn’t help noticing what had amused the older looking guy who was still looking at the tea master. The tea master’s hands with tea glasses in each fist had this repeating fluid motion; first his one hand will rise upwards and then fall down with the steamy liquid expertly swirling in the vacuum in between and finding its destination in the second glass in the other fist. The intense, focused face; the delicate finesse of his deft fingers and the perfect coordination of his torso. It was a masterful symphony! He was slowly transcending into an opera conductor right in front of my eyes and when I realized I heard a familiar honk, I got out of my trance and started walking towards my bus.

That’s when I heard the older guy say something like “You are really quick and perfect at what you do; very fascinating!” to the tea master and I turned just in time to capture an image which would get permanently registered in my memory bank. There was a blank expression on the tea master’s face for a micro second and then it happened. Just like the petals of a blooming flower unfolds, there unfurled an effulgent smile in his face which seemed to challenge the approaching dawn. His actions froze in mid-air for a fleeting moment in which he managed to nod to the older guy who was already leaving and resumed his work as ever but the smile on his face remained. I got into my bus and took the window seat and looked back at him for the last time. The child-like smile on the face was still there radiating his whole being and people around him. I knew at that moment it was a smile I might never see again, a smile taking its source from the heart; a smile without pretense or fear or deceit or doubt; a smile that knows what it takes to smile such a smile.

The sun was already out!