Novice at life.

The new chauffer was finding it hard to maneuver the E 63S AMG in the tight alleys. His otherwise not so very pensive boss hardly spoke to him this day, nothing more than guiding him. As they arrived at the graveyard the car stopped and the boss alighted.

He unhooked his Rolex Submariner and put it in his trousers pocket, rolled his sleeves up as he headed towards the tamarind tree at the southern corner of the graveyard. He crossed a couple of young lads washing the grave stone and spreading rose petals over it, accompanied by their father who gave a slight forward nod with great reverence, he replied with the same enthusiasm.

He walked past a young couple with an infant in the young man’s lap. The lady reciting something from a book with incense sticks lit at the grave, spreading warm spicy aroma afar. The young man almost got up to wish him, one hand on the chest. He politely gestured him to be seated and kept walking.

He advanced mindfully to one particular grave and before he sat down he pulled out handful of rose petals from a bag he had been carrying and showered it on the grave, he continued doing so till he emptied the bag. He smiled looking at the epitaph engraved on the rough granite. The smile didn’t last for long, he stretched his right hand to the center of the grave like he was placing his hand on his grandfather’s chest as he did when he breathed his last. Stayed there frozen for a long while before he stood up and said,

“ I won’t be seeing you next week, will be in Milan next Thursday but will see you the week after ”

As he started to walk back he noticed a small group of people behind his back already waiting to get a minute of his. They got closer said their salam’s and started walking towards the car with him. He put his hand around one’s shoulder and joked with the others, enquired about their well being. Before he said goodbye to each one of them and shook their hands. He whispered in one’s ear,

“Ask them to meet me on Saturday at my office post lunch. I’ll have it sorted out”

The chauffer opened the back door for his boss, he got in not before waving the crowd goodbye. He then turned to his wife who’d been waiting all by herself in the car, as the car left the narrow byelane.

“Why do you always smile when you read that epitaph, I could see your broad smile from a quarter mile? ” she enquired.

“ I like the couplet he had written for his own tombstone, even after all these years I’m still in awe of it” he replied.

“ Is everyone supposed to have one”

He shook his head and replied in the negative.

“ I wonder what ours would read decades from now”

“I don’t plan on having one”

“Well. Why won’t you have one?”

“ Darling! I don’t think we’ll ever have any visitors here” he smiled, and so did she.

The smile couldn’t hide their gloom, after a long uneasy pause she asked rhetorically,

“ You think we could have done anything differently…. About kids.”

“ kumm honge is bisaat pe hum jaise bad-qimaar; jo chaal hum chale so nihayat buri chale” **

he replied resolutely. And started looking out of the glass as the car now pulled over the ramp on to the highway.

(** – On this board game, very few gamblers are as bad as I.
every move I played, turned out to be an extremely bad one. )