Impressions

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ ‘Yes please’. ‘Earl Grey? Or English Breakfast? I also have Darjeeling if you fancy some’. ‘The Earl Grey would be very nice, thank you very much’. The irony of such a display of politeness before the signing of the deal did not escape me. Contrary to the barren, desolate landscape of my imaginings, his ‘office’ was a plush air conditioned room with large comfortable sofas. We were seated on navy blue swivel chairs across a beautiful mahogany executive table. There was a filing cabinet in the corner, with large, foot long drawers. For a moment I had the absurd image of him as a recruiter, with the drawers containing files with the CVs of the candidates entering into a contract with him. The room was lit up by strong halogen lights that cast harsh shadows all around. The overall feel of the meeting that day was tinged by a very strong sense of bathos. I was expecting a grand denouement, the final act of a tragedy where all the tragic el...

The first thing I noticed about him was his hands – they were so beautiful and elegant, just like the hands of a pianist. I had always pictured him as having claws for fingernails, and arms tight and sinewy so as to firmly grasp the hapless creature that might stray within his reach. Obviously, I was wrong about this, as I was about so many other things. Looking back, it perplexes me that I was able to make that decision so quickly, in a flash. There was no debate, no hesitation. It was as if time had frozen for that millisecond, and I was struck by the sensation of things that had gone by and things that were about to come. It was not like the detailed and vivid reliving of images from a cinematic reel. Instead I could feel indistinct shadows of past memories engulf me, dowsing me in a wave of nostalgia and melancholia. I would not call it an epiphany, if anything it was the exact opposite. I had lived all that long hoping and trying to believe that the road that I walked on, w...