Family

They settle down in the next table… the family of three… the mother clearly the decision maker… a stately, middle-aged woman in a black salwar kurta (or was it a sari)… the husband seems defeated- both by age and life (they arent the same thing) … he bends towards his wife, displaying his dandruff-infested shoulders…black is not a colour to wear when you are fighting a losing battle against scaly skin…
The pubescent son is the object of my attention, for obvious reasons :P…he is plain really … hollow-cheeked and lean, like most pubescent boys are… he betrays a strange impatience towards his mother…he almost flinches when she reaches out in her purse to give him some money… shifting his weight from on red canvas shoe to the other…What a strange family, I tell myself… and how disconcerting it is to see them in a coffee shop at this time of the day …
Sitting there, witnessing an awkward family moment, I realise that I'm alone, not in the way this family would recognize… yet, at this moment, I yearn for the familiarity of this dysfunctional family...