The Stairs

I had unlocked the door to enter my small apartment in the crowded yet comfortable neighbourhood of Karachi with the lingering thought of another lonely dinner and evening. Consoling myself that there would be thousands like me at this very moment thinking the same.

All these thoughts were playing a havoc in my mind within the span of ten to fifteen seconds.

Brain is an incredible machine which we homo-sapiens struggle to understand. In the fog of my thoughts, I turned around to close the door behind me, only to notice Sofia standing looking at me.

Daughter of the widowed land lady, she was a beautiful and informed person. From the small conversations we had had, I gathered she liked reading, writing, cooking and the most – talking! She loved it or she didn’t like being quiet! Sometimes I toyed the idea of counting the seconds on my fingers while she would not say anything and when I hardly reached fifteen or twenty seconds when she would say something, this made me laugh and she’d be like ‘what’s the matter, why are you laughing’!

I said ‘Hi, sorry, I wasn’t aware you are here. How can I help’.

Extending her hands, where the tinkle of her bangles on her wrists, evoking a melodic sound, she offered me a tray which was covered with a nice clean white cloth. She said ‘I was waiting for you. Mama had prepared dinner for you. For some reason she said you must be feeling alone and tired, so I came to bring this to you.’

I knew exactly who had cooked but I didn’t say much. The mama quote was just a filler. I was in no mood of talking to anyone at that time, let alone Sofia, but for some odd reason, I smiled and asked her to come in, knowing very well that she would not, as there was no one in the house besides me.

She said, ‘no its ok, I only came to see you’.

I looked at the tray and then looking up at her innocent yet soothing beautiful smile. With a smirk on my face but laughter inside me. I didn’t have words to utter, but my heart was racing. My brain was in

an overdrive mode where I found my inner self talking to the Almighty, thanking Him for this blessing and at the same time I was watching Sofia. I was experiencing calm, beauty, peace, innocence, and what not. I could feel butterflies flying in my stomach, was it hunger or something else I could not distinguish.

‘How did you know I had returned?’ I asked.

‘Oh that is easy, every day at around 6pm I hear the creaking sound of the steps you take on the stairs, which are mild at the beginning, but get louder and stronger as you have climbed upstairs and when you have reached your door, then there is a click indicating that you have unlocked and then another click to indicate you have entered and closed the world behind you, so I came before the second the second click’ she said.

‘Intruding anyone’s privacy is not a good trait’ I said and kept the air hanging, watching her.

‘Don’t worry about returning the tray, I will come to see you tomorrow, oh, I mean I will come to collect it tomorrow, at 6pm.’ She said without addressing what I had said. But then uttered, ‘I like being observant to what is happening around me, that includes sensing the movements and sounds'.

The next day was the same and I had forgotten about the prior evening. Sometimes, life becomes very mundane, following the same routine, specially when one is in a 9-5 job, where tasks come to you, and are required to complete these. A vicious cycle to which majority of us make our lives. When someone asks what do you do? the only answer we know is, I work at such and such place as such and such person doing such and such thing. That becomes our identity. In essence we lose our identity to the job.

I reached home that evening as usual and upon reaching my door I unlocked it and as I turned around to close it behind me, I found Sofia with that smile and her hands extended with the tinkering of the bangles on her wrists, ‘Hi, I came to collect the tray’ she said. I looked at her and as always extending the courtesy, asked her to come in knowing she would not, but to my surprise she took two steps and entered inside but not really come in. I smiled and went to the kitchen to collect the tray.

As I was walking, I remembered my mom, who never used to return anyone’s tray empty. Following her teachings, I placed an unopened pack of chocolate cookies 0on the tray along the dishes and covered with the same clean white cloth. I returned to the entrance and handed it over to her. She looked at it and smiled.

‘Are you always like this or are your trying to impress me’ she said.

‘I am sorry I don’t understand, what do you mean?’

‘I love chocolate cookies, have you not noticed I have been gaining weight’.

That was the first time I had looked at Sofia.

After she had left, I changed and went back to reading what I was for a couple of days, but I could not concentrate. After every five or ten seconds, I was thinking about Sofia. The evening progressed and soon it was dinner time when I finished the leftovers from yesterday. After trying to read a bit more, I retired and was fast asleep.

Next day was another routine day however this time I remembered the last evening and Sofia. I kept asking myself, what is wrong with me. For some odd reason my day went well, I was happy doing what I did, completed my tasks with satisfaction. While on my way back, as usual I was thinking about my day and other things and then I stumbled upon the scenario’s when I was invited numerous times by Sofia’s mother for dinner or for lunch or for tea or something and how I enjoyed their company and they mine. How comfortable are they in asking me to help as a male when they are in need for a male help (considering the society in Pakistan).

I then realised what I was missing. There was someone knocking at the door of my heart, but I did not hear the sound. I was not even noticing someone was there. It did not occur to me that while all these things were going on in my head, I had already reached the apartment building I lived in.

As I climbed on the first step of the stairs, for the first time I felt that I was home, where someone was waiting.