que sera sera...

i was so excited about meeting R and S that i almost didnt notice him at first.
perhaps the shadows inside the car ensured that i couldnt see his face.
or maybe it was the beard.
i dont know.

he didnt say much throughout the journey.
i guess we didnt give him a chance.
quietly i could sense him laughing next to me as the rest of us played catch-up.

R busy with a phone call, he started telling us about living alone in a mad city like delhi. the houses to hunt for. sometimes flat-mates if ur a bit tight on cash. hunting for the 'right' house-help who wont rob you blind.

i couldnt remember his name.
just your average-joe going on about mundane things in life.
joe with a soft voice and an accent.
joe who is from bangladesh, living in america and now here in india for a bit.
joe who likes classical, jazz and guitar.
joe who seemed so serious, i assumed he was much older.

as he got out, unloading his things from the car, R rushed to help.
S said he is not supposed to lift heavy stuff after his transplant.
"his transplant??" i asked.
with one of the bags tucked under his arms, R grabbed another suitcase and said,
"his father's liver got completely damaged, so he returned home and donated half of his liver."

shaken, i saw him run about getting his things together.
"how old are you?" i asked.
"23" he said, looking straight at me and smiling.
for the first time i clearly saw his face, his eyes.
as they stared back at me, they were calm.
no hint of panic and shock that i was clearly feeling.

"thanks for all the help. il see you around." he said and waved.
"will he be alright?" i asked R and S, as i saw him walk away.
"he's come this far, he'll be ok." R said shifting gears.

our car sped away into the misty night.
my thoughts with .. i still couldnt remember his name.
but atleast i now knew that he is no average-joe.
he must have guts of steel i kept thinking, wondering if all will be ok.

suddenly over the din of the traffic...i heard the radio playing...very very softly
que sera sera...



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