Life

Mr. L is having his Cafe Coffee Day coffee when I join him with my cup of coffee. An old gentleman, he is a feminist and has a word of appreciation for the women staff of the department.
I have decided I like him a little more ever since he told me I have a nice set of teeth. He has dentures, so he advised me to take care of my teeth. He tells me he didnt know anything about dental care until he was eight - toothpastes and toothbrushes were alien to people when he was growing up. For that matter, it was so even in my childhood. The old, the poor and the less literate used umikari (burnt rice husk) to clean their teeth with their right forefingers. Today everyone wields a toothbrush and is very conscious about dental hygiene. My kids have learnt that they need to brush their teeth before they go to bed, something I didnt know or practise when I was growing up.
Coming back to L. I ask him if he can go back to his sprawling house in Jaffna now that the war is 'over'. It is occupied but he can legally claim it back when things are back to normal. No, he has no hopes of going back in the near future. The war is not over yet. The Sinhalese wont give the Tamils their due. In 10 years or so, a Tamil state might evolve but I wont live to see that, he tells me.
I feel a trifle sad and shocked to hear that. A septuagenarian foreseeing his own death. While I mould two young lives.

The two young lives in my life tell me that they are feeling very sad because they cant see us. "Please come here and work." I wish I could.