Neighbor

My curiosity was satisfied after visiting the famous Khan-el-Khalili Bazaar and I was walking back to the Attaba Station. Someone interrupted me on the way and asked, ‘Where is the nearest Metro station to go to Sadat?’ The man was in his early 40s was wearing a thick woolen sweater, carried a small backpack, and looked like a South Asian. I was not surprised, at someone asking me for directions, for obvious reason that I don’t look like a foreigner there.

I was glad that he asked a question, for which I knew the answer, as I walked down from Attaba to the Bazaar a while ago; I told him that I knew the way to Attaba Station, from where he can take a train to Sadat and he could follow me to the Station. While we walked I asked his whereabouts, he said ‘Pakistan’. The very next moment, I felt awkward and various thoughts started bombarding my mind. I had to consciously avoid showing my discomfort and stop acting indifferently. However, I was glad that he did not ask me where I came from, which would have put him in the same kind of situation. Or, may be he was smart enough to guess, by looking at my stupid body language, which I found difficult to conceal.

This was my first encounter with my neighbor, though an uneasy one, none of us could be blamed.

Neighbor