Overcoat
One evening in January a well-groomed young man having walked up Davis Road to the Mall tuned to Charing Cross. His hair was sleek and shining and he wore side bums. His thin moustache seemed to have been drawn with a pencil. He had put on a brown overcoat with a cream coloured half opened rose in his button hole and a green flat hat which he wore at a rakish angle. A white silk scarf was knotted at his neck. One of his hands was slipped into a pocket of his overcoat while in the other he held a short polished cane which every now and then he twirled jauntily.
It was a Saturday evening in mid-winter. The sharp icy gusts of wind struck like steel, but the young man seemed to be immune to them. So, while others were walking briskly to keep warm, he was ambling along obviously enjoying his promenade in the bitter cold.
He looked such a dandy that tonga-wallas on catching sight of him, even from a distance, whipped up their horses and raced towards him. With a wave of his stick he turned them away. A taxi also drew near him and the driver looked at him enquiringly. He too was turned off. This time with a "No, thank you."
As the evening advanced the cold became more intense. It was a cold that induced people to seek comfort in pleasure. At such times it was not only the profligate who ranged abroad, but even those who were usually content to live with their loneliness, emerged from their hide-outs to join the gaiety of the streets. And so people converged on the Mall where they amused themselves among the variety of hotels, restaurants, cafes and snack bars, each according to his means. Those who could not afford the pleasures inside, were content to gaze at the coloured lights and brilliant advertisements outside. Up and down the main road there was an unending stream of cars, buses, tongas and bicycles while the pavement thronged with pedestrians.
The young man seated on the cement bench was watching with interest the people passing on the pavement before him. Most of them were wearing overcoats which were of every kind from the astrakhan to the rough military khaki such as are found in large bundles at the secondhand clothes' shops.
The overcoat the young man himself was wearing was old, but it was well cut and the material was of good quality. The lapels were stiff and the sleeves well creased. The buttons were of horm, big and shiny. The young man seemed to be very happy in it.
Aboy selling pan and cigarettes with a tray of his wares passed by.
"Pan Walla,"
"Yes, sir"
"Have you change for a ten rupee note?"
"No, sir, but I'll get it for you."
"And what if you don't come back?"
"If you don't trust me sir, you can come with me. Anyway, what do you want to buy "Never mind... Here, I have found one anna. Now give me a good cigarette and be off with you."
As he smoked he seemed to relish every puff.
A small lean white cat shivering with cold rubbed against his legs and mewed. He stroked it and it leapt up onto the bench. Smoothing its fur he muttered:
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"Poor little mite,"
After a few minutes he got up.
By now it was past seven. He started off again along the Mall. An orchestra could be heard playing in one of the restaurants. Many people had collected outside. Mostly they were passers by, a few drivers of the waiting taxis and tongas, labourers and beggars. Some fruit vendors having sold their fruit were also standing around with their empty baskets. These people outside seemed to be enjoying the music more than those who sat inside, for they were listening in silence though the music was foreign.
The young man also stood and listened for a moment or so, then walked on.
A few minutes later he found himself outside a large Western music shop. Without hesitation he went in. There were musical instruments of different kinds arranged on shelves around the walls. On a long table, attractively displayed, were the latest hit songs. A Spanish guitar was hanging on the wall. He examined it with the air of a connoisseur and studied the price label attached to it. Then a huge German Piano diverted his attention. Lifting the cover of the key-board he played a few notes and closed it again.
One of the salesmen came up.
"Good evening, sir," he said, "Can I help you, sir?"
"No thank you," the young man said with an air of indifference. Then suddenly as if remembering something he called out.
"Oh yes... Could you let me have a list of this month's gramophone records?"
He slipped the list into one of the pockets of his overcoat and resumed his promenade on the Mall.
He stopped next at a book stall. He picked up one or two magazines and after a hurried glance at the contents carefully replaced them. A few yards further on, a large Persian Carpet, which was hanging outside a shop attracted his attention. The owner of the shop,
wearing a long robe and a silk turban, greeted him warmly.
"I just wanted to see this carpet" the young man said to the carpet dealer.
"With pleasure, sir."
"Oh, don't bother to take it down. I can see it quite well as it is. How much is it?"
"Fourteen hundred and thirty-two rupees, sir."
