Each Floor With a Different Story - III

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The third floor was occupied by an old couple. I must say they were the charm of Block C; too much in love with each other even though both were septuagenarians. Love was defined so evidently in their old and fragile eyes which would compel any living existent to search for their soulmates. They never had any children and last to last year had celebrated their golden jubilee of being with each other tied by the nuptial knot. I once asked the old man’s consort, ‘Mam, how is it to love the same person every morning for more than 50 long years?’ The old woman giggled like a teenager would, when encountered with her first love, ‘each day I find him better than the previous day and I start loving him more. When he was in Navy, I would yearn to meet him for six long months and the rest of the year when he would be home, he treated me like a princess. So, after his retirement, I assumed I would be a princess for the rest of the six months too. But he thought the other way and made me the queen of his empire instead of the princess. I was elated at my sudden promotion. Since then, we are living this wonderful life. I never assumed even to not to love him for a second of my life.’ The old man with grizzled hair and a wonderful physique still looked handsome and steady. As we finished our conversation, he came out of the department store and greeted me with a broad smile, ‘excuse me young lady, would you mind if I steal my beautiful wife? It is getting darker and her eyes are not much supportive nowadays.’ I smiled as they both left clutching each other intimately. I gazed at the couple till they disappeared from my sight while I took my seat on the bench next to the lady who was apparently my neighbor, ‘poor old couple. She is a dementia patient and with time her illness is escalating. I wonder how he would manage everything after some time.’

I stared at the lady with goggle-eyes.

The macho guy living on the fourth floor of Block C was a delight to be watched. Every morning, he would wake up at the same time as mine and would be on his balcony. The only difference between us was the intention- of being at the balcony. I was a lazy couch who would sit there for hours while sipping the morning tea but he would turn up there to exercise in the mini gym that he had made by bifurcating a section of his balcony. I am confident of him not glancing at me even for an instance because of his extreme devotion to his fitness which of course had never wavered. And this was evident instantly from the physique he had built over the period. But this aplomb of mine was recently shattered when he greeted me from his balcony with a big smile while wishing me good morning as well as cheering the cup of beverage that he was holding. I queried him back with astonishment through sign articulations for the reason of him not exercising. He answered back similarly, of having some injury on his shoulders. We exchanged some more communications which was particularly about the painting I was doing there. At the end of our conversation, he unexpectedly asked me for a cup of coffee. I pondered for an answer to be given to him with bewilderment at this sudden proposal.

 

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