dreams

The order had been placed recently. The problem with these orders had been simple. They were so large and the system was so broken, mostly the latter, that they had been delayed. Every single time. The customer would get them after weeks of waiting. But this time, he decided he would go himself. He brought part of the order. The rest would have been delivered shortly before he arrived. He trudged through leafy greens. The tree trunks standing tall, sturdy, and loud. The earthy smell was strong. The rocks underneath his feet both sharp and dull, at the same time. There were hundreds. Some with sharp edges pointing up. Others with the flat sides facing up. Yet others still were so small that they would be sharp, when the feet were placed on them, no matter what side they were turned to. The sun was high in the sky but not visible enough. The green leaves provided a shaky cover. He trudged through the undergrowth. He saw cats lounging, the big cats, saw them lounging lazily, not paying him any heed as he cut through the lack of a trail. He reached it. It was a small temple shaped building. Not even a building. A hut? Shoddy craftsmanship. But that was only when you were used to urban building. This was deep in the jungle. By those standards, it was the pantheon, colosseum and all rolled into one. He entered. The building smelled dark and musty, homely. It was empty. He knocked on the door of the only room inside. It slowly swung open. The man inside was prostrating. He waited in silence. The other finished his prostrations, rose, and looked at him silently, politely. Your order, he said, putting the bag that had been on his shoulders, down. It was a symbolic gesture. The bag was merely a fraction of the order of the other. He smiled. It was symbolic, nothing more. He could do nothing with this particular piece. But it had to seem like he was carrying it. The man smiled. Welcomed him, the word was ihtram. Treated him like family. No, that wasn’t the right description. Treated him like an honored guest. Not your kind, no. Our kind. His kind. Their kind. Of guest. Best seat for him, chai and samosas. When you enter someone’s house, they are responsible for you. Outside, the cats purred. No harm would come to him here. At least not from the man or his few tons of beasts. They drank and ate. You were early this time, the man said to him. Yes, we’re revamping the system. Improving on it. Making it better. Making it faster. You should not expect any problems from next time. He answered, sipping on his tea. Good to hear. They sat in silence. Outside, the sounds of the jungle continued. They never really stop. Nature is never stagnant. Everything moves in a cycle. He got up and straightened his shalwaar, the host got up and led him out. They bid each other an adieu, and he went off.