Thank God, he was counting his days

Last month, I moved out of my hostel to my friends'. I got to know their cable TV connection was cut and nobody had any clue about the time and reason. As my friends are even lazier than me I had to look for the house where a lady working in the organization lived. Having seen an old gentleman, counting the beads of a Japmala, strolling within a veranda of a house and I asked him if he could help me out, and following is the conversation...

• Me: Hello sir, would you please tell me which house the lady working in the organization providing cable TV connection lives in?

• Him: Lady...cable TV connection...why? What happened?

• Me: Ummm, I have a little business. Can you please tell me where she lives?

• Him: What is your business? (With an authoritarian voice that normally old people have when they are talking to young people.)

• Me: (Ohh fuck! now I have to state the whole thing to this senile. I thought about ignoring him and walking past him to the next house. But, I ... complied.) Unhh! Our connection is cut and we are not being able to watch TV. Our neighbor said the lady lived in this locality. So, please, if you direct me to her residence…

• Him: But she didn’t marry!!!

• Me: (Stupefied for a minute. What is his problem? That she is not married? That if she is not married then how can she be a lady?). Oh, her residence, please.

Then finally he showed me her home that was exactly opposite his house. I tossed a glance back over my shoulder as I knocked on her door; and there he was, his strolling stopped though counting the beads continued to pile blessings for the eternal life, watching me intently. Lonely old man got something to do in his leisure. While returning, I thanked God that the old man was counting his days.