two juveniles, ezra einar and devdutt padikkal. two worlds. meeting at a middle ground in a quest for love. with it comes a whole barrage of responsibilities and sacrifices to make, friendships made and renewed,
with love cometh fear. fear of makin...
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QUATRE
the fine line between us
EZRA'S POV
mumbai, maharashtra
cairo and london passed by in a blink. the one day in london was spent catching up on sleep and stuffing my face with fish and chips when i wasn't sleeping like a log.
from london was a direct flight to mumbai.
it had been almost two months since i had been to india, and almost a year since i visited kerala. it would be needless to say that it has taken a toll on me.
i missed my beautiful home, my mom's dream house that was built a little away from the astir city yet close enough to hear the occasional honk and toot. the fishermen rowing in the river every morning, the raft of ducks swimming across the bridge, the smell of amma's chai, the mouthwatering aroma of her pothichoru, taking my mom out on short trips - gosh, even thinking about my homeland led me to smile out of nostalgia.
it felt like time was moving as slowly as ever, me counting down the hours and minutes before i would be wrapped in one of my mom's tight hugs.
and it's with these thoughts that i stepped foot into the majestic metropolis, which enticed me yet made me feel like an outsider. the tall buildings and crowded roads, sticky wind and fast pace - i tried to embrace it all yet like another time, got tangled in the empire of hope.
the short layover of 3 hours at the mumbai airport before leaving for bangalore seemed like the perfect time to finish the book i was currently reading and chug down another gallon of coffee.
i swear, it's not an addiction. seriously, i think.
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in search of a good spot to wind down for the next three hours, i stumbled upon this book café. i figured it was called revival, after seeing the sign on the wooden plank outside. nestled amongst the various other duty-free shops around, the café tables in their rich, deep browns and the aroma with it's dark aromatic perfume called me in from the tiring day.
walking in, i place my order - a simple cappuccino and a plain butter croissant - and head over to the multitude of books.
the shelves of books expanded over the wall, the magic upon the shelves written in black ink waiting to be picked up.
surfing through the books, i finally rest my fingers on the dark blue, hardback volume of the great gatsby. i remember my literature professor, prof. julian once telling the class that books like the great gatsby weren't merely just words on paper, it was a philosophy waiting to come alive through the eyes of the reader.
