The Customer


He comes everyday. Same table, same corner , same order, same direction, same face and the same strangeness if it. He had been visiting our cafe for the past one and a half week. 15th of April was the day when he came for the first time. He’s always alone, always sitting on the same chair facing the counter and his back towards the window. Window that we say to our customer’s as the window to the world as it faces the Times square.

His face has a strange quality to it. I don’t know what but its strange. Strange in the sense that i can’t classify it. But to tell you the Truth its the most natural face that you could ever see. One look and you may never recognise him again. Yeah you won’t recognise him the next time because he will look as similar to anybody else. Kind of face that a thief will always cherish. May be that forgetful familiarity is the unique strangeness of it.

A unique element of something that makes it almost similar to anything. Its a secret. A secret if unraveled will tell the secret of the world. A uniqueness that if seen and understood would dissolve everything onto itself. I guess he realise that too and knows that i know it too. Somehow i haven’t heard his voice and i also don’t remember how he gave his first order which i repeat everyday. It’s as if we already know that’s to be exchanged and only thing that’s remaining is yet to be known.

Its 4:02 now, still minutes before he comes. The restlessness in me is more than usual today. Being a midweek holiday today we had fewer customer’s today so i decided to draw his face. As expected i couldn’t. I knew i wont be able to do that, may be i was scared. Scared that drawing anything will rob him of that uniqueness. But still visualising
him even proved too difficult. Nor that i couldn’t see him but as i tried focusing on his eyes or the lips or the nose the face simply vanished as if his face doesn’t stands on his facial features.

Its 4:10 now. Let me prepare his order. I just don’t want to wasted any time on that when he’s there.
Oh its him. but its 4:11.
Ah, its not him. Its just somebody sitting at his place. Lemme tell him that its reserved.
‘Marlin tell that guy that the seat is reserved. He may be coming anytime’.
‘But it’s he the same guy. See the drawing on his Jacket’s back, its the same one he wore yesterday’.

What! How? I mean….’ 


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