Street Corner Majlis

Tottering at the edge of his two big toes, the sandal swung dangerously close to falling off of it’s owners dangling limb. Meanwhile, quite regally intact, the rest of the man’s body lay generously sprawled on the tattered red and brown majlis. His right arm was propped up on a hard cushion with a a clear finjan of freshly – poured, steaming shai enclosed in his thin fingers. I could still see the frothy white bubbles surfacing at the top of the dark brown liquid. The other hand, resting on his hip held a not as delectable of an article, a grey cigarettes stub of a thing, which he raised to his darkened lips between slurps from his cup and cackles between his other lazing comrades.

In the middle of the junction of sofas was a small brown table, with a badly peeling varnish that revealed an ugly tan wood underneath its once glossy covering. Draped along one edge was some semblance of a shemagh and atop that, an array of old black and blue Motorola and Nokia phones. A skinny cat of fur colour quite the semblance of old dish water, sat scrunched beneath the tassels hanging from the cloth above, tickling her fur and causing her to twitch spasmodically in relative annoyance. As I rushed passed this calm scene, my clothes rustled , awakening her from her reverie and bestowing me with a mean glare from her squinted eyes. I replied to the mumbled salam that had been offered and clutching my armload of books towards me I slipped away from the timeless scene. I didn’t have time to study annoyed cats and lazy tea sippers; in the next building my math class awaited. 🙂

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