It poured instead of raining, and traffic responded by standing still in Noida sector 60 making all the office- released hasty and horn-honking. Every shop and compound became shelters, and got crowded enough to hide their purpose. Smokers started smoking to bid the time rather romantically watching the rain and few hung up to their phones.Checking mails and checking time.
One guy, whose name could have been anything, stood there neck deep in thoughts, and head deep in the rain-less cloud of smoke rising from his mouth. He could be seen as seeing everything around, but with a lost sense of flicking the ash and slow exhales of smoke, he wasn't actually seeing anything. His mind was full of thoughts, too many to think one through. As if he wasn't thinking anything either.As if he wasn't there or anywhere precisely. He was just somewhere, some gloomy place that has kept him at an average low point of feeling.This was just as vague as a cold sense of strangeness that he and his wife shared from quite sometime, seldom resulting in an argument, but often in prolong silences. After seven years this was perhaps usual,he thought. Love marriage sucks, was another.