There are at least a few sensitive and deep thinking people who like Aab’s company. These are those who can look beyond the mundane, the routine and the activities that lead to “conforming” within society. But unfortunately even these people find Aab very difficult to interact with if they try to get closer to him. For Aab does not know how to make close friends. He lives in an abstract world, a rebel, a wanderer, a Qalandar who has no objective and goal in life – in fact no reason to live at all. Perhaps if Aab was born a couple of centuries ago when the mystics and the mendicants roamed the countryside, he could have become one more enigmatic story-teller. In today’s world of TV, Internet and mobile phones, there is no place for a story-teller like him.
Some do ask Aab to tell his stories, and he hesitatingly opens out to them. He has so many stories to tell, not from books, but from what he has seen and experienced. He does not know which story to choose and how long to talk – for he is always aware that people have their responsibilities, their desires and their own world to pursue. He would hate to be an intruder into such a world.
So, after these brief and rare recounts of the days gone by, Aab moves on to pursuing his best hobby – silently sitting and observing people. It could be in a posh party in a star hotel, it could be on the roadside, or even in someone’s drawing room. He watches, listens, assimilates, feels happy or sad for the dramatis personae, and picks up his jhola to move on to the next auditorium where life-drama is being played out.
