The Lonely Chair

It was 2009, and I was on an exchange program to a little University town in Western Pennsylvania called Clarion. Now, Clarion is a small place, and even smaller for someone who grew up in a city like Delhi, where you could lose yourself roaming around the streets of Old Delhi, with barely a 100 rupees in your pockets.

No, Clarion was like any American town: Main Street, Downtown, A Wallmart, and a University where I studied my few necessary courses in Literature. But they were not enough to occupy my mind. Instead, my attention that fateful year was focused on this beautiful redhead that I had the fortune of meeting on the very third day of my landing in the US. I remember catching the first bus in the morning, and she was the only one who looked my age, which is why I promptly went and sat next to her. Good thing too, because I didn't understand the routes, and apparently crossing the highway on foot is a crime in some countries.

Anyway, a few weeks later, I was walking her up to her dorms, (women only, can you imagine), and we came upon the old cafeteria which had been demolished the previous semester, and now, there was nothing but enormous mounds of rubble, and amid the debris, a lone solitary but solid looking chair, wood, with the upholstery dirty but intact.

And there was nothing to cordon off the construction site but flimsy waist high plastic. So, a few minutes later, I was sitting on that chair, and she was on top of me, and I was just struggling with an obnoxious piece of clasp machinery when we started hearing voices, and soon, there were lights flashing, and I heard her say, "Those are not students."

Well, I wish I could tell you that we sneaked through the construction area into freedom, but instead I realized the saner thing to do was to give up once they brought out the loudspeakers, (I will never make a good bank robber, I guess). So, we did as they ordered, and we halted, put on our tops, and slowly moved towards the light with our hands held up.

I considered for a moment trying to bribe them, as I would and Indian cop, but then I realized something which I had heard from my course coordinator, that things are different in this country, and the same rules don't apply. So, I pleaded, and thankfully, the cops did not arrest us, but we were charged with criminal trespassing. Well, I guess all romances are a bit criminal. Regardless, I'll never forget the day I sat on The Lonely Chair or my partner in crime.