I stood at the balcony sipping a cup of coffee , looking at a child playing with her plastic football. The unfinished concrete floor she was trotting on barely seemed to bite her naked feet. Or even if it did, she din't seem to care. Every moment she spent seemed to be moments of unadultered joy, of consummate innocence. One second Time seemed to fly by, another second i looked at her and Time seemed to stop by and join me in the audience , to watch something as pure as that. Maybe the floor was watching too and enjoying the touch of her cushy feet and in the indulgence had forgotten it's prick.
Her grandfather was watering the plants in a small garden surrounding the apartment. The gush of water, from whatever space was left between his thumb and the tip of the pipe, seemed to be as welcome for the plants as for the water escaping the pipe. He seemed to establish some sort of connection with the plants through the water, a smile that would'nt leave his face. A smile which suggested contentment at the way life treated him. At the way all the events leading to his retirement lined up to salute him. The smile of an old man content with life can easily be confused with the smile of one prepared for the eventual, I thought. What could possibly defeat such a man? The smile had to be there.
The water trickled down from the leaves to the concrete floor and formed a neat stream. The sun glistened its edges and it moved lazily, sometimes hither sometimes thither, like a man with no particular deadline to meet. It moved, melanizing the floor along its path. And as it moved further, it broke off into two parallel streams. The streams seemed to look longingly at each other like they never wished to be separated. They never imagined that they could even have a separate existence. They had never bothered to make one out from the other. Even the floor seemed to cry for them and the tears seemed to be the streams themselves.
But then something happened. Maybe it was the wind. Maybe a slight slope. Or maybe, just maybe it was their longing. They were no longer parallel. They meandered towards each other.And as they neared, one stream for once showed a sense of urgency. The other reciprocated and the next second they moved along lazily again, as one. Again as two bodies, one soul. A sweet pang in my chest. The nature seemed to smile at the stream. The Sun shined ever so mildly, not wanting to dry them off and the floor did his best by nudging them through a slope as if sending them for a honeymoon.