Now, Ajay was a thinker. He could ponder himself to death if something fascinated him. And the bird incident certainly did. He could not help but perceive it in the context of his romantic life.
Was he walking into a grim future? Ought he stay single and not indulge in this relationship? He had wooed her with such zeal after all. He felt like he was one of the blind birds walking into the silver blades of the bar. His phone’s ringtone broke the silence in which his thoughts floated.
She was calling. Ajay’s face went pale for a second. With gingery fingers he picked up the phone. A few hundred hours of dawdling ensued after which the last words were parted and Ajay was left on his own again.
He got up and walked around, looking at the shiny, carved images his father had left him. Living alone had its perks. It gave one room for thought. He was thinking. He was toying with the idea of ending the relationship before it culminated into something else. He still wasn’t sure why he wanted to end his affair with her, nor was he sure why he wanted to continue it.
Ajay had been called to perform for a night show that very night. Now, there are things about Ajay that have been unmentioned. Fourteen years had passed since he had picked up his first guitar which gave him an edge over other guitarists when it came to being picked for shows. However, his modesty kept his name hidden from the city’s books.
The bar he’d been called to was a work of art. It was Belgian architecture at its blooming best. The glass panelled entrance served its purpose which was to draw crowds of all kinds. The name of the bar was printed on a polished black coloured board made of wood. It glowed at night making it attractive for people who hadn’t been here before. The walls were made of mahogany imported from the farthest corners of Europe.