The fog was dense. Nights were windy, eerie and cold. Dogs barked in unison and disturbed a sound sleep. The hut was warm and alive because of Neeraj’s presence. The rustling of the fallen leaves gave him company and conveyed to him that he was not alone. In his mid fifties he was doing just fine. His fair weather friends had deserted him a long time ago. His dead wife was still living in his delusional world and he often talked to her whenever he felt the need. They say true love never dies and this time to time interaction has kept him going. Just a kilometer away his mini tea and snacks hotel attracted many travellers for a break and refreshments. It was a clean spot and Neeraj saw to it that his customers got a good deal. Hospitality was his core trait and this little business made him feel useful for the world. A tired and jaded spirit needs a hot cup of tea and lip smacking snacks to continue any journey. By providing just that Neeraj thought it was all worth it. Though it’s going to be six months now that his hotel is closed indefinitely. 

The hotel used to be on the outskirts of Aligarh, a city in the state of Uttar Pradesh, India. Over the years he had become very pally with his customers. Some found a friend in him and some a patient listener. A 5ft foot tall man with wrinkles all over his body had a lot of patience for his anxious, exhausted and talkative customers. There were few who preferred to sit quietly by themselves and savor their tea and snacks. A thatched roof as a comforter for their unsaid thoughts used to be enough, Neeraj assumed. Never did he ever try to go an extra mile to talk to them even when he got bored. Round small tables were laid at the four corners of the hotel that seated four people at a stretch. In the centre was a square table that had snacks marked with price tags. Cookies, biscuits, chips, mouth freshners, bread and muffins were decorated with utmost cleanliness and care. The walls of the hotel were mostly empty and muddy and had iron hooks on which oil lamps were hung. The oil lamps were lit from evening onwards in the mini hotel to emanate light but now those lamps were in his hut.

In the morning and during the day Neeraj loved to sit and ponder after cooking his meals. In the evening on foot he visited the wife of the station master who lived some 50 minutes away from his hut. He cooked dinner and the next day’s lunch in advance and as a token of thanks and appreciation the station master’s wife Gauri provided him with the evening tea. The tea energised him and midst talks and work time used to pass. For not even a minute he ever missed his tea and snacks hotel this way. Neeraj  and Gauri were like two strangers who had nothing in common but as time elapsed they became habituated to each other’s being. This proximity was a welcome change for both. After all Gauri was only 26 years old and needed an elderly presence while his husband was working odd hours. Gopi liked Neeraj and he felt his household and wife both were safe in his absence. Gopi was from Gujarat and was transferred to Aligarh a couple of months back. Word got in the wind that he needed an elderly cook, that is when Neeraj had pooled in. 

‘Please close the door child Gauri, I am leaving for the day. Guess son Gopi will be on his way home.’ requested Neeraj.

‘Ok, Neeraj Da will do so. Please be careful as it’s foggy outside.’ said Gauri.

‘Don’t worry child, I will be more careful as I love foggy nights.’ smiled Neeraj.

Neeraj left the premises and started walking home humming one of his favourite tunes. The wind was harsh but he was all packed with woollens. Living on the outskirts meant constant traffic with blaring horns and bright lights of vehicles. The foggy weather demanded it. Walking home in such circumstances lifted his mood always. During his walk many addressals were made to his dead wife. The beautiful weather used to play tricks on him. It was no different this time around too. His gait had an air of happiness and satisfaction. A job to keep him occupied in the later half of the day was sufficient for survival. Old age knocking on his door had pushed him to take the extreme step of putting a muzzle on the hotel once and for all. It was not an easy decision indeed but with a very very heavy heart he had to. It took him months to come to take this extreme step. The lockdown due to the covid19 pandemic was one of the reasons. It was a tough phase and he was hit badly by it. 

Returning home with such satisfaction erased all bitterness that could have surfaced if he had been jobless. Gauri and Gopi respected him and that is what mattered. That fog night was routine but seeing a man waiting at his doorstep was something unexpected and new. He quickened his step out of curiosity and was greeted by a hi. 

‘Do I know you sir.’ Neeraj asked.

‘Yes you do, Neeraj. Last time when you had seen me I was in a very aristocratic suit, sun-glasses, designer shoes and lots of pomp. I was clean shaven and was brimming with pride as I had grabbed the deal of a lifetime. The investors had made me happy and I was enroute to a conference when your hotel provided me with the best tea I ever had in years. Can I have it again today.’ added the mysterious man. 

‘Are you the one who said your tea is close to home Sir?’ asked Neeraj. 

‘Oh yes yes Neeraj, it’s indeed me.’ acknowledged the mysterious man.

‘Ah, Manik brother, it’s you. What a pleasant surprise. But I am sad to say you look completely unrecognizable in this grown beard and simplicity. Is everything all right? inquired Neeraj. 

‘Can I have a cup of tea made by you first?’ unapologetically Manik ordered. 

Without wasting another minute Neeraj unlocked the house and lit the oiled lamps. They were seven in number and the hut illuminated from darkness. A small cot was set against the northern bamboo and mud wall. The firewood was put at a little distance. A big table was at the opposite wall of the cot. It was full of steel utensils and a water pot. Beside it was the cooking area where the stove atop a mini gas cylinder was kept. There was enough space for a man to stand and sit. The third wall of the hut had a rope on which a few clothes were hung. Below that rope was a small window and a chair and some bamboo baskets. The fourth wall had the main door. 

‘Please sit and feel comfortable while I make your tea Sir.’ Neeraj said embarrassingly.

‘Its warm and cozy here Neeraj and spick and span just like your hotel. Glad I could locate your house and I am finally relieved to be here.’ Manik shared. 

Neeraj was adept in his work and within minutes the tea was ready. He offered it to Manik and seated himself just close to Manik’s feet to which Manik objected and signaled him to sit on the cot. 

‘The tea is delectable as it has always been Neeraj.’ thanked Manik. 

‘I’m glad the taste is unchanged Sir. What brings you here to me on this cold night if I may ask.’ said Neeraj. 

‘With a lot of introspection that lasted months I wish to stay with you here. Please don’t turn me down. I am a lonely man though I am a grandfather, a husband, a father and a father in law. In my 60th year I am in my best health thanks to my lifestyle but I am afraid to share that I have no company to keep me happy and occupied. I want a living, loving and friendly presence breathing next to me as I age towards the inevitable. I found a like minded tea lover in you when we last spoke. You are a man of few needs and your house proves it. Please let me in.’ cried Manik with folded hands.

It did not take a minute for Neeraj to understand why this move happened. The elite had ways to keep them busy by throwing money around but genuine care cannot be bought. Vibes matter and chemistry between individuals is key for unconditional equations. Grandson was busy in his life. The son was only interested in his wife and son. Manik’s wife aged 50 was a socialite and glamour loving person. While Manik was on the road of aging he realised what really mattered. Inner bliss and content in the company of a genuine setup can make living easier and enjoyable. He could only think of Neeraj and without wasting any more time in the age of social media and booming technology Manik abandoned the house he owned in Delhi and headed towards Neeraj. 

‘It’s an honor that you want to be here Sir but do you think you can survive here moreover after seeing where and how I live.’ asked Neeraj.

‘It feels like home to me Neeraj, that’s all I have to say besides the fact that I would like to re-open that mini tea and snacks hotel of yours too if you allow me as I would like to serve you in my own way’ concluded Manik. 

Neeraj was speechless and tears welled up in his eyes out of joy. He had so much to share with Gauri now.