The Old Woman (A short story)
An old woman, now forgotten by all, meets a stranger who somehow remembers her true life and significance
Amidst of all the chatter echoing around, he quickly grabbed a seat at his table from which the “Reserved” sign had been previously removed. Quite excited, he immediately settled his restless self upon this table for two. Somewhat nervous, he looked around, eyeing all of the other tables that seemed filled with brimming laughs and scoff of many different people. He felt truly glad then, taking a relieved sigh in knowing that he would not be sitting there, as comfortably as he was if the thought of “Reserving a table” hadn’t arrived in his head a day earlier.
“Good evening, sir!”
Hearing this, he absolutely sparked into reality, aware now of the existence of this waiter alongside.
“Here’s our menu,” the waiter handed.
“Thank you so much!” he spoke, before holding the offered menu and witnessing the waiter disappear into what seemed to be a busy and bustling night for this restaurant. He moved his gaze right towards the seat upfront.
Empty.
But knowing what was to come or rather, who was to come, he grew excited yet again and buried his head into the menu held within his hands then.
After some while had gone by, his head still seemed to be buried inside this now-awful-looking menu, while in reality, his mind was anywhere but it. He had a quick glance at his watch, realizing that he only had been repeating this task an annoying number of times by then. As a result, his face truly turned stiffer, extinguishing every bit of excitement of before into utter shards of disappointment.
“Sir, can I have your order?” the waiter startled him yet again.
“Umm…” he grew faint on replies as his voice became severely hesitant in turn. “Can you just give me five more minutes?” he looked directly at the agitated face of this waiter and saw the internal reactions spewing within his eyes.
“Sure!” the waiter politely answered, followed by the fakest of all the existing smiles, and walked away.
He glanced at his watch yet again.
I cannot believe this!
An hour has gone by already…
He shook his head in realization, looking straight at the seat in front.
Empty yet again, and not to his surprise this time.
His breath escaped with arriving frustration as he turned towards the waiter once more, who was seen eyeing from afar while talking to a man in a dark brooding suit.
Probably discussing me who hasn’t ordered anything in an hour!
His mind mocked then, as his eagerness of before was slowly draining down into plain sadness. And soon, this waiter in question arrived at the table with the same faking smile stuck to his face, disguising all of his agitations under it.
“Sir, I am sorry… but you have to order some-“
“An Iced Tea!”
The waiter grew silent before adding “Anything to eat, sir?”
“No, just the Iced Tea,” he concluded before witnessing the waiter offer a gentle nod and then leave the table. But as he saw him leave, a peculiar scene caught his attention along the way of his gaze.
On a table nearby, there sat an old woman in a fabulous dress of red, sitting and having her meal all by herself.
She seems familiar!
Where do I know her from?
His mind sparked as his memory began rotating its engines. Surely, his eyes would have moved away from her sight in a flash had she been an ordinary old woman, but due to his working memory and experience, he then remembered exactly who she was. As a result, his eyes ogled upon her and further grew widened.
Yes, I know her!
The combination of eagerness and excitement quickly traveled back to him, yet of a different kind this time. He immediately shot up from his seat and walked straight toward her without any show of hesitation on his part. Reaching, he looked at her from close, observing her rough white-aged hair, her wrinkled frail skin, and her soulful green eyes which now were looking right back at him.
“Excuse me. Can I help you?” she shot, witnessing this man in front go absolutely speechless for the following couple of seconds.
“I cannot believe my eyes!” he cried rather loudly. “Is it really you?”
Her face quickly changed upon realizing the exact manner of this situation. “Oh, so you are a fan…” she shook her head, somewhat feeling quite surprised inside. “It has been a while since I have dealt with your kind.”
He, still in sheer shock, began uttering. “Are you-“
“Yes.”
“Oh my god!”
She then changed her focus from this shook-eth man to something else behind him. “Is that your table?” she pointed.
He turned around and saw the familiar waiter with an Iced Tea upon his tray and confusion on his head. “Waiter!” he called as the waiter turned towards him with even more strands of confusion rising. Immediately, he rotated back to face the old woman. “Is this seat taken?”
“No,” she impulsively replied, showing immediate signs of regret upon her wrinkled face after.
“So… If you don’t mind, can I sit with you?” he asked, growing infinitely eager by the second.
She took a long pause of thought before finally changing her face and saying, “Oh, what’s the worst that could happen! You can sit.”
“Oh, thank you!” he cried with relief as he swiveled around and signaled the waiter to bring his drink towards this new table for two. He quickly got seated then.
“Were you expecting someone?” she further asked.
“Oh, well…” he felt quite hesitant. “Yes, I was actually waiting for someone, but I do not want to talk about that right now, I want to talk about you! I just cannot believe that I am sitting right in front of you!” his voice truly shot with enthrallment. “I am such a big fan!”
“Oh, thank you, son…” uttered she becoming somewhat shy of the comments, before resuming eating her meal, while this new fan of her in front was glancing around their public filled the room, looking at all of the other people at different tables, chattering and gravely busy amongst themselves.
“I don’t understand!” he ultimately spewed. “How come you are not swamped by all these people here?”
“Times change, son…” she replied rather softly.
“Yes, they truly do. But I don’t think that it should matter, now should it?”
“As you can see…” she slowly glanced around the room in the process. “That it clearly does.”
His brows rose. “How can they not know about you? I mean, every person out there has to recognize you! Your work has been so valuable over the years!” he grew rather astonished yet saddened by this fact. “Don’t they know who you are?”
“They do know…” she spoke. “They just don’t care.”
Silence struck then both the mouths immediately, a desolate and resounding silence.
“Are you not going to drink it?” she asked pointing at the glass still filled as it was since its arrival.
“Oh!” he realized and began the act of sipping it down. “You, of all people, should know that you have played such an important role in my life… In fact, you have played an important role in each and everyone’s life here and beyond it! It is still unbelievable to me that people don’t come to value you enough!”
“Son…” her breath escaped then. “You remind me of my older self. I once used to think like this. I used to have hopes and expectations from people around me… But then it all just changed. It all just became hopeless, ” she shook her head with arriving sadness. “I guess at some point in life you have to understand that things get replaced. They get forgotten, they get old and they die. I mean, they probably must have gotten different versions of me out there playing my role instead.”
Listening to these grave words coming out of her mouth, his eyes expanded even more with severe shock and disbelief. “What has happened to you? When did you become so hopeless!?” he shot back. “You of all people should know that your existence is infinite, you cannot die! You can never be forgotten! How can you even say things like this?” his breathing skyrocketed. “All those versions you are talking about are fake! They are not you! You can never be replaced! How can you even think that way?”
She suddenly felt taken aback by the intense gravity of his vocal response. She further began contemplating her own said words, her own beliefs that led her to say such things
Maybe this man is right!
Her mind realized as she gazed directly at the determined set of eyes in front. “Oh, son. I am really glad that you think this way… And that too so passionately!” her eyes showed a light sparkle of hope as her face hinted at the appearance of a long-forgotten smile. “I guess, the world needs more people like you.”
“No… What the world really needs is you,” he spoke with conviction. “One truly dies only if one is completely forgotten, these were your words, weren’t they?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“If the world no longer remembers you, then it is as good as dead. Trust me… you will never be forgotten!”
A form of a lost smile then instantly got stuck to her face.
He took a deep breath of realization then. “Well, I may have taken enough of your time already,” he stood up and finished the remaining of his drink in one big gulp. “I should get going now.”
“Oh, sure…” she nodded, internally wanting for this man to stay a little longer. “Well, you did say that you are my fan! Don’t you want my autograph?”
“Oh yes, of course!” he grew enthralled.
She grabbed a white napkin from one side of the table. “Do you have a pen?”
“Umm…” he stood intensely searching before ending up shouting, “Waiter!”
The fake smile reappeared upon this waiter’s face as he arrived near. “Yes, sir?”
“This lady right here needs a pen. Do you have one?”
“Sure, sir!” the waiter offered her his pen and she quickly began scribbling down her signature then.
“So, do you know who this lady is?” he asked the near-standing waiter.
“Yes, sir. Of course, I do.”
She handed back the pen to this waiter and just like that, without uttering another word, he left their table in a flash.
“See…” spoke the old woman then. “They just don’t care,” she handed him the autographed napkin, but to her surprise, he seemed busy fiddling around in his back pocket. “Oh, please! Don’t bother, son.”
He immediately stopped his movements.
“Your Iced Tea is on me!” she smiled like never before, a touch of real beauty upon her trembling lips, the wrinkles of which now seemed to fade away.
“Thank you!” he grew a smile of his own then. “I never imagined I would ever be saying this… But it was very nice meeting you, Love.”
“Likewise, son…” said Love growing a deep sigh. “I hope they all remember me as you do.”
“I hope so too,” he concluded before waving final goodbyes and leaving her sight altogether.
Author’s note
In today’s grave and love-lacking world, it is not that we have lost all hope in Love, rather Love seems to have lost all hope in us.
Love is getting old, it is getting forgotten, and it is dying right in front of us.
Are we going to do something about it? Are we going to start remembering it, so it can live again? Or just watch it get utterly lost and witness it die right before our eyes?
Love remains or perishes, in the end, it is for us to decide.
In my above story; The Old Woman, a greater meaning resides behind everything that unfolded. There is a reason why the male protagonist was waiting for someone in the beginning, but that someone never arrived. There’s a reason why only he, out of all the people present, was able to recognize Love (The Old Woman) sitting across from him. There’s a reason why Love was portrayed through this old, aching, and forgotten woman who seemed to have lost all hope in people. And there’s a reason why the fake-smiling waiter interacted the way he did with Love and the man in this story.
I do not wish to explain all of these meanings, rather I do wish for my readers to go through this story once again, finding out the deeper meanings behind each bit of crafted conversation between us (those who remember Love) and the modern state of Love that has become, and ponder upon those realizations that occur. Because maybe then, you may end up discovering something you never thought you could.
Thank you so much for sticking to the end of this post!
I have always believed that stories are an incredibly powerful tool to portray intricate thoughts and complex ideas, they have a peculiar way of wrapping around our heads and making us realize crucial things. And using this power for good has always been my aim, to make this world a better, more thoughtful place, one story at a time.
Do you agree that Love is getting old, forgotten, and dying in our time? Do you agree that Love was once well-known and recognized by us, but now it has just been lost?
Share your answers in the comments!
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