I met him after a long long time. The eyes were just the same - soft, gentle, and ever caring. And the fingers still danced by his side as if they were ballerinas in a ballet.
But his presence now did not even hint at a volcano of feelings. He appeared calm, or that is how I thought he looked. And his gait was slow, determined, and did not lose its cool as he crossed the road dancing away from the traffic that ran playfully around him.
The cafe I had decided to meet him in lazed a few steps away from where he stood after he gingerly dodged a bus that insisted on running past without acknowledging him.
His hair had grown into a dark set or curls that dripped down to his shoulders. And as he looked up and down the sidewalk and then at the cafe, the curls flounced and twirled and made him look like some musician who had realized the world had decided to let him live.
“Oh there you are!”
“Yes,” I said, as I got up to say hello, “I was watching you from here.”
“I know,” he said smiling lightly, “I am always watchable.”
“Oh yes,” I said truthfully, “you always are.”
“How sweet! You must come visit Mother some day. She'll give you 3,000 reasons why you are wrong!”
“Haha. So what have you been upto?”
“Well, this and that.”
“Like what?”
“I have been reading a lot. I just finished Dante's Divine Comedy.”
“Really? How boring!”
“Hehe. Yes, and I am now looking at Mathematical theorems. I also read some stuff on linguistics.”
I sat up straight and looked at him. From a complete scandal of a man who could talk nothing but lissome little misses, he had gone to the other extreme: He was a bore.
“Really Nordixo, when did this happen?”
“When did what happen now?”
“When did you finish your thesis in boredom?”
“Haha. No man, I like this stuff. It's all so fascinating.”
“Fascinating? The Divine Comedy! Are you out of your mind?”
“Quite in it, actually,” he said stoically, cup in hand and lips all set to taste the brew, “A comedy is quite an act of folly. And Dante brings out the folly of it all in a rather twisted way.”
In a bid to understand what I was being privy to, I twisted my right palm with my left and then my left palm with my right. But even so, this so sweeping a reincarnation that sat opposite me was too difficult a fact for my thoughts to comprehend.
Nordixo though seemed quite ready to comprehend my surprise and sit placidly as if he was new to the idea of sin. He sat there - a lesson in composure - and scrutinized the chocolate concoctions that peered at him through the glass shelves just behind me as I tried my best to appear normal.
Finally, my irritation got the better of me and I threw off my cloak of propriety as I asked: “So what happened to those days?”
“Which days?”
“Those days when you.. you..”
“What now? Ah! Those days when I had a roll in the hay much too often?”
“No, what happened to the time you merely had sex?”
For a split second, Nordixo was unnerved. A flicker of a staggering imbalance burnt in his eyes and then it was gone. He sat up straight, smiled and: "Oh those days," he said, "and that time is gone."
“Really? Just a month ago, you had three little misses and two rather towering ones walk in and out of your apartment.”
“Those days were different.”
“And what has made you see the difference?”
“My job!”
“What?”
“Yes, my job! I lost it.”
“Now that is brand new information! When did that happen?”
“A month ago.”
“So?”
“So, I had no cash left after the bills were paid.”
“So?”
“So what so? Women need stuff to please them. And the stuff needs cash. And I had none left.”
“And that's why you are now an urban monk.”
“Well, for the time being, yes.”
“Do you realize how horrible a shock that was to me?”
“Yes.”
“I mean you reading Dante just doesn't go down well you know.”
At this Nordixo's lips split into a bout of laughter: “Well, who said I read Dante?”
“You did?”
“No no. I said I finished The Divine Comedy. That doesn't mean I finished reading. I finished deciding not to read it. Ha ha.”
“And that detailed analysis?”
“You know Christina? One of those girls who walked in and out of my apartment-”
“I get it. You are so incorrigible.”
“Haha. Christina said the same too.”
“And so God-damned unashamed of it.”
“That Suzanne said - just when I asked her to return the ring.”
“So mister,” I said finally, satisfied that all was well with me and the world he inhabited, “Till when are you going to keep this ascetic act?”
“Till the recession recedes or till I get a new job!”
“That is gonna be a long long time, no?”
“Oh no, I am to join For the Time Being Inc. shortly.”
“Then why keep this act up?”
“Because, my friend, whenever I meet someone like you, I can escape paying the bill!”
It then occurred to me that I had indeed paid the bill.
“You are such a God-damned rascal! You're still the same!”
“But the girls are gone.”
“That's because you're a rascal. If only put that behaviour of yours under recession, you'll realize the girls or a girl will stick around.”
That Nordixo never ever quite got his head to understand. Partly because it's too simple: All his other problems were sophisticated in their complication. And partly because a fact this plain would lead to a divorce with Lady Variety whom he was mad about.
So, he pretended to not understand me. He looked up the street, then down, and with a quick jerk of his head to the right, he said: “Now now, you're playing Dante and Plato eh? You know this is too high level for me.”
I should have known. The bugger has no level, really.
Well, I sighed in response to that accusation. And as the Sun drove down weary and fed up into the seas, I said goodbye and promised to never pour sense into a man so Neanderthal in his actions.
Comments