We drove to the Cineplex on a hot January afternoon.
Chatting, animatedly. Us four.
People in the thousands on the sides of the road, just milled about. Shopkeepers if you could call them that, showed their wares on tattered cloth, some spilled out directly onto the asphalt. Rickety thelas -a far cry from the elaborate cappucino carts, (they call them "thelas") going up in swank urban areas - crowded the roadside. Pedestrians too jostled for space.
They all breathed the exhaust from our cars and the dust from our tires. They suffered our horns. They would not move out of the way! We had to get to the Cineplex in the Mall on time. The movie you know.
We did not hear them.
We chatted animatedly, us four.
Our air was conditioned, cleaned and filtered. Our ears, our lungs, our noses were protected by the glass windows of our car. We were safe. Our hearts protected. Was it not just a movie we were watching, though the glass? It felt like it.
We chatted, animatedly. Us four.
We had cool, clean air in our car that our driver drove, and cool filtered water to drink. Let them drink coke. We were different. Them and us. Paths, theirs and ours. Fate, theirs and ours. Different. Separate.
Community, in the movie. We did feel it. Yes, we did. Though there were only 5 other people beside us four in the conditioned air, in the plush seats.of the large theatre. Not our driver. The car needed watching.
Emotion, we felt it. In the movie. We could feel, in the dark. We shed tears in the dark.
In the car, on the road again, we sat in the light coming through the glass.
We chatted. Animatedly. Us four.
The driver earned his family's daily bread. Quietly.
Outside, a silent movie, played on.
