I smiled at his questions.
Not getting an answer he gestured, what.
After a brief lull, what must have felt like eternity to him, I looked into his eyes, 'look around' I said.
He did as I told, but the next moment he turned back with a blank face.
'observe'.
No reaction.
'hear the flow of the river, the chirping of the birds'.
I waited for a response, still nothing.
'does nothing of this resonates with you' I waved my hands, as if gesturing to the whole wide world.
His eyes did not light up.
'look at the tree over there; do you know its story? Look at the river, don't you notice it is running half empty; do you know its story?
Just then a truck hooted it's horn, as it passed over the bridge, pointing at the passing truck; do you know its story? I asked.
'you asking me this question is a story in itself'. I added.
Noticing the slight twinkling in his eyes, I turned my face back to my laptop, and resumed punching at its keys.
After sometime when I turned to the place where he was sitting, I found it vacant.
Smiling to myself I overlooked the bridge, a motorbike was fast receding from view. I noticed the blue shirt, 'it is him', I concluded. Stories are all around us, we just need eyes to see them, I thought. And with a contented heart looked into oblivion.