How far can you run?

 "Hey Habibti! Where are you?, Let's grab Vada"

I was so shocked that an Indian friend reached out to me again after his trip out of town. I just finished a shoot and told him I'll see him in a few. I rushed to my apartment, flew to the third floor to my room, threw my bag on the bed, removed whatever makeup was on my face and met my friend on the streets. 

He was thin and short, typical Indian, large dark brown eyes, the kind of eyes that were stamped with a sadness that invited sympathy, the space between his cheeks and nose was well defined, carving a  structured road down to his chin. His hands were rough for living in a very dry area in India all his life but his heart was gentle, all the models loved him, his heart roamed through the empty spaces of our lives, it filled the kindness that is missing in each one of us. His clothes were always clean, full of patterns but wrinkled and occasionally wore these random sport shoes with calm pastel colors. 

"Tchallo, let's go, I'll have a Vada and you'll have a Dosa, we're going to our usual place".

I hopped on his red, illegal  motorcycle for this 5 minutes ride to reach our destination. 

We sat in that tiny snack facing each others as he gassed to me his stay in Koramangala. As much life this guy had inside of him, I often saw deep sorrow in the bright white that surrounded his pupils, a hidden sorrow he would never dare to enunciate. But he laughed, that small Indian man, he stared straight into my eyes, that enormous smile not wavering.

He left his job, with no plan b, escaped the crowded streets of Bangalore, juggles between his friends houses so he doesn't have to pay rent, drinks almost everyday and smokes 12 cigarettes a day, and I couldn't help but wonder behind this cheerful face and vibrant energy, what is he running from? 

Above everything else, he was free, exhilaratingly free, with the whole of his heart. That moment in this small street food restaurant as we ate with our hands, oils covering the tips of our fingers, the flare of pettiness I felt towards him vanished in the understanding that he was free. Painful as his life is, he was free to live it on his own terms, in his own unique way, he can mold it into something that fits him like his own skin. I felt relieved.

"I'll see you soon ... Someday. Stay beautiful" He said as he dropped me home. I waved a goodbye not sure if I ever will see him again.