I know this guy. I said as soon as I entered Bombay coffee house. He was sitting diagonal to me, alone but not so alone. He wore glasses and was writing something. I went through the names of all the writers I knew in my head but couldn’t recognise him. I compared him to different images but in vain. After a while, a woman walked in and sat down to interview him or something. As the interview progressed, so did my curiosity. I knew him but I didn’t know how.
He caught me staring more than once and though a shy person I am, I knew talking to him would be much less awkward now. His bag caught my eye ‘BANGALORE LITERATURE FESTIVAL’. He is a writer for sure but why can’t I recognise him. I kept looking at him and trying to figure out the right moment to walk up to him and say something.
They seemed to start to wrap up. Now is the time, I knew it. An introvert person I am I know it takes a lot of courage for me to speak up emotions even to my closest friends. Talking to a random stranger was unimaginable. But it was now or never kind of situation.
I gathered all the courage I could and stood next to his table. He couldn’t ignore me anymore and looked at me.
“Hi, I am sorry if I am disturbing you. But, your face seems familiar. Are you a writer or author or something?”
He took a moment before he spoke.
“As it happens to be, I am” He smiled just a little by the end of his sentence
“May I know your name?”
“Ranjeet Hoskote” He nodded
“Ok.. mm.. Thank you” I left as swiftly as I could
“That’s cute” I heard the woman say as I left
I didn’t know, what ‘cute’ meant but I was done talking to random strangers for one day.
He waved to me as he left, I waved back and I was happy I didn’t annoy him.