Imaginary Stories

It all began as a curious kid. I would often look at people and think about their stories. Sometimes, I still do. What is the girl with a yellow hat and pink sweater talking to her father about while he drives the car? Her dreams? Her ambitions? Her insecurities? Or just asking him to buy her some sweets? Let her wear lipstick? Buy her a mobile phone? What are the street vendors discussing today? Rude customers, low income, their substandard living conditions? What is the story behind the woman who runs a cafe all by herself in a ghetto locality? What is the hot topic today among the college girls sitting at chai tapris? School boys riding their bicycles given to them by the government, thinking about their future jobs? The little boy selling gajras on the street light at 9:30 pm, where does he go to sleep? The woman haggling at the market, where did she get the skill from? Is it from her mother, her grandmother, or her grandmother's grandmother? My friend's wife, does she secretly hate cooking for him, cleaning the house, waking the children up? Does she struggle with conflicting thoughts about her marriage late at night? Does she lack the words to explain what she's feeling? Does she go mad for a while when no one is looking?