Wait

He doesn't seem to remember the morning. Where was he? He thinks it all went by in a blur. The regular things, the strawberry shake(with a bit too much sugar he put), the drive, the hurry, the continued saga of trying to get the car parking sticker, a rude man called Tyagi rebuking his subordinates, it all goes by in a blur. It doesn't really feel like a weekend. There are a few potholes that jump at him, but the rest is smooth. It isn't an inspiring day.

His friend calls him up before lunch to discuss photography. He enjoys talking about things he understands but wonders if he has been able to convey his ideas in response to the doubts. He would welcome more, especially ones, that would make him read up newer things, or lead him to experiment.

There are other conversations too, filling up those little gaps at work. He thinks these help him understand the place better. And finally there is some table-tennis. His bat is a dull and damp mess but he expects nothing more. It will pick up after a beating, he thinks and so he persists. They meet a couple of guys who want to play doubles. It is a funny game since one of the opponents fit perfectly into the shoes of the stereotypical Delhiite. He is loud, brash, flamboyant, filled with underhanded tactics, little arguments and lulled by the sole desire to win. There's loads of shouting but he has seen far too many of these kinds to really be bothered. All this is in good humour actually and as it always happens, all the tiger-like growls get reduced to a mere cat's meow after a few losses. They somewhat give up and he doesn't appreciate that. He remembers Hyderabad again, where players are humble, persistent and inspiring. These loud ones are kids in comparison. Much pomp and less substance, that is the kind of stereotype one associates with Delhi, and sadly it's true more often than not. He wants to meet the other kind who are lurking in there somewhere. All said, he has fun playing. They fix another date. The winning is a bonus.

The evening is silent. Children's voices fill up the air under a fading sun. They have a dinner invitation, not one to really look forward to, but obligatory and to be ticked off a list. The voices in his head are silent and his heart has stopped beating after all the running. He is not sure how tomorrow will be, though bits of it have been planned.