Cup Of Coffee

She picked her purse & pushed it back to her shoulders. She checked herself in the mirror for one last time, wearing her watch. Her chiseled face, her eyes with hint of Kajal, those beautiful curls spreading till her shoulders, it was all perfect. The white striped shirt & the grey trouser fitted seamlessly on her sleek figure. There she is, the face of Young independent Indian women all set to conquer the world. And she rushed across the doors of her house. “Bye Ridhi” she said to her roomie Ridhima. “Your phone…” she reminded her from inside the room. “OOPS!” & she hurried back to her room, picked her cell & dashed away. On her way to the bus stop she cherished her relation with Ridhi. ‘Such a sweet & caring girl’, she thought. She recalled Ridhi told her once “You know what, a study reveals 70 percent of female’s name end with either ‘A’ or ‘I’”. “Really?”, Payal asked marveling. “But yours don’t” Ridhi replied & they laughed playfully. After wait

He checked his neatly ironed shirt & did the pleats of his trouser. But his sights would never reach his filthy unpolished shoes. He sprayed Deodorant as if taking another bath with deo this time, as if all the   Angels would fall for him today, finally. Although for most of the days it’s the only bath, known popularly as Dry Cleaning, washing face & spraying heaps of Deo underarms, on the chest, around the neck, on the chest again & again. Then he rubbed gel firmly with hair falling in all possible directions, for something called style statement. In a hurry, he picked up his rucksack & rushed out of the door. He has to catch office bus in next 10 mins & he is running late. Did I mention its 11 A.M. already? He managed to catch the bus, sank in the seat as if he hasn’t slept for ages & took a power nap for next 35 mins. And here he is, in the office. He went straight to the wash room, washing face a zillion times & doing his hairs for the Grammy Awards