Spaghetti

As I was about to swallow my first serving of spaghetti, an old man with a certain calmness suddenly appeared in front of me. He was carrying the same spaghetti as I was eating. Suddenly, my space, my moment with my spaghetti, my sense of privacy at that little corner in MacDonald’s seemed to vanish. After that millisecond mental flash on my concept of privacy, the old man spoke. He was asking me if it would be ok If he can sit with me since the only available table was at the other side of the restaurant. With an apologetic tone, he explained that it would be a great effort in his part to walk all the way to end. My table was the best alternative. Sure, for a second I felt uneasy like all of us do when a stranger suddenly step in your psychological space. However, this split of a second internal uneasiness is swept away by a similar internal surge of kindness. So as I did not mind, I said yes and gave a smile.

As I attempted to re-establish my lost eating momentum, I tried to strike a conversation. I told him that hey we have the same lunch. He replied while mixing the pasta and sauce with a jubilant description that this thing has all that is needed for a good lunch. I nodded and ate. Silence followed after. However my mind was running that time. A slogan “share a seat, win a friend” which once caught my attention instantly shimmered with an abundance of meaning. I am not expecting to instantly win a friend in this case – I did not even ask for his name – for that occasion does not call for that in the natural course of human affairs. I just thought to myself this stranger, as old as he is bears in him a tremendously rich story. He is wearing a shirt of a community cooperative which led me to believe his work in life. He was also wearing glasses and carrying a small note book with a couple of inserted news clippings. All these seem to assemble a story of this man whom I’m sharing a table with. 

He never spoke but this very ordinary scene reminded me of a truth that I can’t easily grasp much more articulate. It is simply that sense of awe flowing from that truth that the world is interpreted as many times as there are people and this is more appreciated when you have a close contact with a person whom you don’t know and most probably have no chance of knowing at all. I wondered what his story is, what the world is for him. Well, that’s all what I thought of aside from enjoying my spaghetti. I finished eating first and then swallowed 3 ice cubes as I usually do. As he was still eating, I said that I’ll go ahead. He stopped and nodded four times with the words ok and thank you. That was it.