Pix

The man that wore the longest ever seen shining yellow coat walked inside when I sat at the restaurant with an eraser tipped pencil thinking of something very impressive to write that sounded just right. The evening light shone and reflected from his coat and on his almost pleasant face one could see a little tinge of wickedness, like the little bitterness, subtle, very subtle one could sense when drinking the sweetest possible tea ever made.

He was swift in his movements, he was lean and tall and there was the grace of a wolf in his movements. Like a wolf that glided in a snow ring.

He walked up to me, asked me if the chair next to me was free and when I said 'No, it is not' he made himself comfortable, in the same chair. He looked at my pencil in hand and said a polite hello to it and asked me why the eraser tip was longer than the pencil itself, for which I just shrugged, as I had no answer to it.

He introduced himself, saying 'I'm Pix, I hail from the bricks... Would you want to be friends with me?'

I let my thoughts grow at the same pace I would let it grow when I made plans for all the goodies I would get when I got a coin to gamble with. Being selfish does help most of the times, atleast with me. This is one of the many wise qualities that I have developed after reading many books on philanthropy. So there I was, weighing the possible gains I may reap from the friendship with Pix.

Then there glowed the bulb in my thoughts that made me reject the proposal for friendship immediately as I was able to see people's reactions to this friendship as we walked together on the road.

A man of little wickedness on face must be popular in the society, so when we walked together on crowded streets, people would recognize him immediately and that would give them all a chance to point at me and say 'See! He knows Pix' and I could see them giggling behind my back. I was able to see them saying 'He knows Pix really well!' when we were good friends and them saying 'He knows Pix inside out' if we were to be soul mates sometime. The voices echoed in the darkness even after them all being gone and the sounds of their giggles reverberated in my mind again and again and I felt the embarrassments when they said 'He knows Pix' again and again.

All words are very very fine in the pure sense of the word when meant and written, but when spoken out, one can never really be sure about the dimensions they may take based on what they sound like.

I said 'No Pix! Am just fine the way I am, am not interested in being friends with you, I'm Sorry' and I walked away. When I turned back, I could still feel the same wicked smile shining on his face behind my back. It probably was a wicked attempt, he wanted to play that cruel joke on me again, probably he had played it with many others before. I never really wanted to give him a chance... I was glad I turned him down.

No more people saying 'He knows Pix, He nose pix, He knows picks, He nose picks, He knows Pix' and giggling behind my back... How the right thought at the right moment saved me all the embarrassments... Aah... What relief...

I think I lost my pencil on my way home.