To be able to talk to your heart’s content

Like a warm blanket, the sun is streaming through the rooftop covering the balcony in the next building. As I sit in this cold apartment of mine where the sun is completely blocked by the rather monstrous building, I couldn’t help but envy the warm balcony next door. 

The three framed glass windows in my room act perfectly as a well manufactured binocular to look through at the balcony the next door. 

As I sat staring enviously at the warm sunlit balcony, a young man emerges out of the door and sits on the lone chair in the balcony. With a fair complexion, hair as dark as the cold dark night and a well defined cheek bones, he looks strikingly good looking. A loose thread hangs loosely from his gray pajamas displaying his hip bones as and when he raises his arms to shield his eyes from the sun. He picks up a book which has been lying face down on the floor. Ah, it pricks my heart to see the book left lying face down on the floor by this handsome lad. How could he do that to a book? 

It’s a book for goodness sake. Yes, I’m talking about a book. Books deserves a special place, it should never be left open facing down. It is disrespect to the book; it hurts me to see a book left like that. 

I wanted to shout at him. But how could I shout at a stranger? 

Next, I’m completely taken by surprise. He carefully dusts the book and flips the page to where he has kept open. Curiosity gets the better of me. I’m now curious to know which book he is reading. I try to peek at the cover of the page. It’s a paperback book in black color and has some red moon or face shaped image on the cover. There was this sense of familiarity of the book. He’s so immersed in reading that he doesn’t lift the book for me to figure out the book. 

I look at him; wait for him to put down the book but there is no slight hint of it. Looks like I’ve to wait. Ok, it isn’t a big deal for me to wait, after all a guy reading a book is simply attractive. And I don’t want to deny myself the pleasure of looking at attractive things, I thought and waited on. 

After what it seemed like a good twenty and five minutes, he looked up and in the process, closed the book. 

Oh boy, it was Kafka on the Shore. Good Heavens! I have the exact copy. No doubt, I was filled with this sense of familiarity earlier. 

I had earlier written a review on this book here. Again, I say, it’s a gem of a book. 

I had wished so much for a companion to discuss the book. I couldn’t help but think again on the book. This guy must have found it hard to put down the book like me. Did he fall in love with the beautiful and surreal Miss Saki like Kafka Tamura or did he adore the old man Nakata like me? What about Kafka’s mysterious father? I disliked him. Did he too? I wished that part of Kafka when he lived in the library in the far-off small town. 

Are these thoughts running in this guy’s mind too?, I thought. I wish I had known him so that we could have sat together and talked about the book. 

After all;