Slaughterhouse 5 - This is not a book review

I looked up and then around. This wasn’t one of my favorite places to eat but this was one of those where I could sit alone unnoticed. It was perfect for getting lost. Firstly it was always crowded and noisy, then it was lighted dimly in the evening like it is now and most importantly it was such a vast area that there was no way one could see from one corner to another, no wonder no one cared. True, today was more crowded than usual and noisier than what I would have preferred. Even the lights were so dim that it strained my eyes to read. I was silently sitting in one of the edges where eyes don’t reach, and therefore the sound that made me look up was totally unexpected. Then I heard the voice:

“Sorry, I hadn’t noticed you. You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”

And so I looked at him. He was dressed in formals, probably coming directly from office. Now why did I say office, he could have been a student. Well, almost. But students don’t roam around alone. So it was safe to assume he was working. He didn’t have any shopping bags so his purpose of coming here might have been same as mine. But he had a backpack which could hold a laptop. He had already pulled out the chair before he had ‘noticed’ me but he seemed to be waiting for my answer. I guess I didn’t have much choice. All other tables were occupied by groups of people; mine was the only one which was solo. And it was a table for four with ample space for two of us. So I shrugged and spoke out an almost unheard ‘no’, then got back to my reading.

He unloaded his backpack and placed it on the chair next to his. Looking at the careful handling, I assumed there was a laptop or at least something as important. So probably I was right about the work. Was he a software engineer? Not necessarily. Oh, who cares! Keeping his backpack on the chair, he moved to get his order or may be to order something. I would have to wait long for mine. I had deliberately ordered a dish that was going to take time. I was not in a hurry and wanted to spend some time alone. Well at least, that was the plan and I was still hoping that he wasn’t a ‘conversationalist’. Remembering one of my flight experiences, I shuddered. My co-passenger, a middle aged man found it interesting that a school going (he assumed like most people!) girl would be traveling on such a costly flight and that too alone.  What might have started as an intention (or so it seemed) to comfort me (I suppose he assumed I had no experience of flight) had turned into my nightmare. His constant chattering didn’t let me read or sleep or even watch through the window. And while he talked about his life, career, how he was going to make big in his life and what opportunities I was missing by getting stuck in school or college or work or wherever I was, I hoped the flight would end sooner. At the end of it I was so relieved that as soon as I got up, I had already forgotten the face of the person, leave alone his entire history.

He was back at table by now. Soon, he opened his laptop and pored over the screen. Some nerd or loner! Oh well, look who is speaking or thinking! Surely I would have done the same thing if only laptops were easier to carry that book. That being said, I also don’t like opening my laptop in crowded places like this. Talking to strangers wasn’t one of my fortes and I avoided it unless it was absolutely necessary. Not that I was scared (most of the time) but I couldn’t see the point of the effort. Moreover, conversation is a two way activity and in one word, I am a ‘closed’ person. So I preferred to stay clear of strangers. This one on the contrary seemed exactly like me. A smile escaped my lips and rebuking myself, I concentrated in my book. By the time he was done with his food, I had already put down my book and was concentrating on my just-arrived order. That was the second time I heard his voice:

“You should read Slaughterhouse 5 by the same author if you liked this one.”

By the time I realized what had happened and made up my mind to reply, he had already packed his laptop and left. If my life was a fiction I would have met him again but real life has few advantages and so has memory.

PS: I haven’t read the book yet.

PPS: Part of this happened but not necessarily exactly as described. :)