in thin air all my castles stand..

few months back i used to read ,read a lot of faces ..most of the times the thoughts that ran behind overwhelmed my sense of sight..the freckles and the frown faded away in sometime and i started weaving a long story ,a tale of my imaginations..sipping the tea in my favorite kaanch glasses, i wondered whether the owner of the cafe loved his wife or beat his chidren after getting drunk . embarassing to pen it down but sometimes i also speculated his sexual life. To get into the life of another human is like walking through the same black tunnel..the tunnels whose noises keep me awake..like a constant hammer banging through each corner of my head,the darkness keeps u wary of the corners and edges ,some of them u find and some u just bump over..and there are a other few ,which u dont c nor trip over , u make them up yourself,imagine new dark rocky castles in the air and u are happy cause you think they are real and they live just like us. every day the same man and the same cafe,i kept carving my own story ,his gazes for some strange reason the smile on the man's face held me in awe..his dedication to serve everyone made me feel small..to have his samosas ready on time with the most amazing cup of tea every morning before the college started made me wonder if i can do that for someone ever..i thought there is a story behind this man's life and his benignity..his dignity stood so tall that the triviality of his occupation seemed insignificant .