The old man on the pavement.

There sat an old man on the pavement with his back against a poster covered wall of faces we love to hate. His bony arms rested on his bony knees. His bony fingers held a curiously unlit bidi. I noticed his closed eyes as I approached to walk past him. I wondered what may be flickering behind those wrinkled eyelids.

"Got a light?" he creaked. Eyes still closed.

"...yeh.. sure.." I croaked. my mind still reeling as I fished out a lighter from my pocket.

"There you go." I reached down to light his curiously unlit bidi. His bony hand moved and one end of the bidi found his lips lost somewhere beneath a bushy mustache and beard. Took a massive toke that inflated his lungs to it's probable limit. A massive toke that his ribcage gave out a pop. Exhaled a smoky mammoth's tusks thru his nostrils.

"You are late", the geezer wheezed.

I instinctively looked around thinking he was talking to someone else.

"..what..?!" I asked realizing he 'might' be talking to me.

"Deaf too" now laughing and coughing up smoke like a bloody chimney. I wasn't thrilled. I just stood there like a fucken idiot wondering if I should walk away or acknowledge his first observation. I chose the latter of course, and chose my words carefully to dodge another ridiculous hysteria at my expense.

"Sorry brother, I came here as fast as I could" I smiled thinking I made a clever comeback.

“Yes. Yes. You certainly did,” snickered the old man as he wiped a tear with his bony finger. “Better late than never. Come, sit with me” patting the pavement beside him.

“err.. I’m sorry, I can’t”, I waved. “I have to get going, you see.”

“No you don’t”, he puffed his bidi. “Come, sit for a smoke and then you can be on your way.” 

"Thanks, but I seriously can't"

"I seriously think you can" he looked up at me. That was the first time he opened his eyes. Those eyes, as black as a raven scrapping its black beak on a black headstone.  I found myself gravitating deeper into the mofo's blackhole eyes. Strangely I found them intriguing and absurdly familiar.

"Don't look so surprised, my boy", he reached behind his ear and held up a Bidi to me. "it's only for a bidi."

Yeh, yeh just for a bidi.

fuck! did I say that out aloud?!?

"Nope." he threw another hysteric fit. "Come, now." I took the bidi from his bony fingers as I sat down next to him, still fixated. "Now fire it up and relax." I did as I was told. A familiar calmness washed over me.

There I  sat on the dusty pavement with my back against the poster covered wall of faces I love to hate, slowly losing to a mind-game of a strange old man.

"Did you know you live a life that's not your own?" he asked in a matter of fact tone. Personally I hate questions that begins with a 'Did you know', I puffed the bidi. "What do you mean?" I was obliged to break the awkward silence.

"Did you know the world looks different from this perspective?" he asked.

"I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but what's up with the twenty questions?", I bitched.

"Did you know you listen to only what you want to hear?", he smirked.

This guy is unbelievable, I thought. "Did you know your questions are frustratingly obscure and unhelpful?", I bitched again. "You tell me."

"Yes." he blinked.

"Yes?! Yes to what?"

"Yes to all the questions", and he blinked thereby.

"Yeeeahhh.. that's great." I wasn't amused and neither was he. Everybody is a sidewalk philosopher these days.