The Three Dark Angels

The winter chill was setting in and so grew the shadow of an impending confrontation. Warily, I stared outside the glass door of the coffee shop waiting for that moment of realisation. It would be the first time I was to meet this person who was loaded with pre-conceived notions of me which were strategically fed to the unsuspecting good soul. We do not wish to be at the receiving end of hatred and I felt no different that evening. A fervent prayer was my sole companion. "Please give me the strength to bear whatever comes my way this day." 

My nervous trance was interrupted by persistent tapping on the glass door. There they danced just like raindrops falling in a puddle. Three tiny, sooty- faced, bronze-hair urchins gleefully knocked and screamed some of their urgent demands. "Khaana de do." (Give us food). It was rhythmic with an amusing musical intonation. 

I shifted my gaze to the young guy at the serving counter. He smiled back acknowledging the cuteness of the whole drama outside and in an unassuming manner whispered his compatriot to heat three samosas for the three devils glistening their pearly grins. 

By then I was enamoured as if they were three wizards brandishing their invisible wands. And I knew instantly what I needed to do. 

Next frame finds me standing outside the coffee shop along side the guy from the counter and the trio, who, by then had seated themselves in a neat order anticipating some mouth-watering snack, perhaps their first morsel of the day. And behold! What a well-behaved group at that! Patient and excited, hungry but not greedy. 

The samosas now adorned their tiny palms. They smiled the most astounding  piece of poetry I have experienced in recent past. However, it was my rude turn to interrupt their bites into freedom. "Yeh lo bacha. Lekin issey baad mein kholna hai", I remarked as I passed the packaged colorful frozen dessert around. They were a tad bit restless as they fixed the lids back into place after just one small look at the content within.  But in no time they were back to regaling me with tales of how the youngest among them was bullied into getting his ears pierced by his mother, to much embarrassment of the tiny tot. 

My heart felt feathery as if the weight of the anticipated meeting had lifted. The cafe guy was already back at his assigned desk, just a nod marked our short camaraderie. The little ones were too busy by now wrapping up their small meal. I look across the road. Two pairs of eyes are looking intently at me. I know one of the pairs; it forever shines with love and fondness. Yet, it was the other which took me by surprise. The eyes which were blindfolded to take a dislike for me the moment they land on me, showered a warm, benevolent ray of hope on me. Our eyes reciprocated the mystery they both shared in their private space; the joys derived from the usuals of life. Because it was just that road that separated two ordinary women that evening. 

The winter chill had set in and the three dark angels were nowhere to be seen. They orchestrated the anonymous relationship, the warmth of which thaws my torn soul still. Redemption may not be that elusive after all...