A selfish hour on a saturday night..

He looked at the city from the bridge. It looked beautiful. The city lights twinkling from far just like stars in the sky only brighter. He then looked down in the river. The blue water looked the color of gray in the night but still as beautiful as in the day. He sat on the railing of the bridge and after making himself safe and comfortable took out his cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He liked it to come at the bridge at night. The traffic is less at night, just a few automobiles crossing the bridge and few policemen patrolling, whom he already knew. The first time he came at the bridge one of the policemen thought that he was one of those suicidal guys but then after so many days they have become familiar to him. He sees them, nods his head and gets a nod in return. Sometimes he shares a smoke with them but he never talks to them because he does not know what to talk and they to completely seem to understand. Generally policemen are not kind to people as they are to him but then he thinks he has earned that kindness and trust. 

He loosens up his tie and the collar of his shirt and opens the brown packet he brought along with him and takes out the sandwich and the coffee. It’s his way of spending the weekend. He never likes the weekend parties thrown by his friends, neither the family dinner. He gives the Friday night to friends and his whole Sunday to the family. He wonders about his friends who would be drunk in the pub by now shouting about their bosses and dads. He never likes it. Some things are better kept to self.

He switches on the Radio and plugs the earplugs in. It was his favorite band playing. He chuckled to himself. He took a bite of the sandwich and then sipped the coffee following it with a deep puff of smoke. His mind was wandering different places along with the lyrics of the song. Almost mechanically he repeated the same procedure, took a bite of the sandwich, and sipped the coffee and then a puff of smoke. He continued the process with a desire that it never ends but like all good things it will also come to an end and it should.

The Saturday always marks a new beginning for him just like it marks an end of the week. The time he spends alone is like a reward to him. A reward for the hassles of the whole week. It’s like a freedom from his stupid boss, nagging girlfriend and family responsibilities. He now looks at the watch. His Saturday time has ended and the time for others has begun. He has to submit the new project report on Monday and then has to get the AC repaired, his girlfriend's call is flashing on the phone screen. He stands up and gets back to his car. The police man waves at him. He waves back. He looks at the city again, nothing has changed but the lights seem dull. He looks at the water and finds its gray shade gloomy. It is still Saturday night but his weekend is over.