What?

Standing on the window sill late in the night he let the dry air run through him. It carried dust, sand, sound and some memories he had salted away. The world around him was sleeping and he was feeling cold, happy and sad. In fact the whole surrounding was reinforcing the fact that he was marooned in a far away land with virtually no human contact. He stood there for sometime till he felt heavy-eyed thinking of the swarm of people he will have to run into the next day. Without delay he hit the sack.

Prime Suspect.

That docile neighbour, who always wears Jamaican Shorts and a friendly smile, perennially on the balcony watering the plants. That taciturn colleague who comes to office only to work. That total stranger on the street who went out of the way to find you an auto rickshaw to make sure you reached your destination safely and on time. That shopkeeper who told you that his product carries a defect and is not worth buying. All prime suspect. They have been too good to be true in this world. It’s not how a normal person of decent is supposed to conduct himself towards others. What is the hidden agenda behind such show of kindness? Must be something utterly malicious. It’s so inhuman to help others.
There aren’t many surviving specimen of that kind though. Thank God! And they are thinning day by day. Going by the trend, a day isn’t far when we will be seeing the last of them. It’s not that mothers have stopped bearing them. But they grow up in an environment that repeatedly hammers them with survival tactics. Every step out of the house means a lesson. A lesson how to live for oneself.
Like, during my preschool days I learned shedding tears or behaving properly in front of guests fulfilled my demand for ice-cream. Then scoring good marks or pretending to study hard did the trick. And after that money supposedly to visit the book fair or buy an important book. And finally, sitting in front of a computer for 9 to 10 hours at a stretch and in between dishing out sermons to pliable juniors and boring them to death. A nice way to earn money. So the more exposed I was to the world the more I leaned to wriggle my way out or manipulate my way in. I became a pro. More learned and wise. More distrusting of people who are upright. While commuting in a bus if a co-passenger picks up a conversation with you for no apparent reason one tends to be a little wary of the conversation starter. And if you don’t then that gives the other a reason to be.