Tea with Three - Notes with Mr. Penguin 2

Tuesday came rather eventful. Even though work flow was sluggish and blunt, there still was a sense of strengthened determination as Monday left and Wednesday is coming. As Mr. Penguin always says, there is a certain kind of mood in each day. Tuesday is always quite eventful; it is the day of my newly found slackline group-practice day. And at the end of a good two-hour practice, I made a false landing and sprained my ankle. No complaints, let it swell, it will get better soon enough. 

I had not heard from Hass and I was starting to worry. My messages were unanswered. I wonder if something happened at the protest.

I dragged my sprained left foot along to the cafe, comfortably sat and looked at the menu. The pulsating pain around my ankle is telling me to find soothe in a strong warm tea.
Lily approached, slid a bigger size note onto my desk, "Got another one for ya today! Ready to order?"

"Hey thanks! Yeah, one hot Darjeeling, and a slice of Triple Mousse Chocolate cake?"

"Gotcha." She scribbled down on her square black pad, and turned around.

I opened the note,

I can't come and hang at the cafe as much this week. A dear friend of mine just got served with divorce paper from her husband at a ripe 61 years age. Silver divorce, they say, is on the rise. I wondered if it was better if the husband had died, because not only now she is faced with grief, but also a harsh humiliation. Us elders don't do well with major changes, you know. We got comfortable with our routines and then suddenly something like this hits without warning, and we feel like a massive pile of failure. I always wonder, in a relationship arrangement where there are two people, either one or both of the parties involved is always left very vulnerable when it ends. We can talk more about alternatives the Lunar people do in the book I'm reading. But for now, a lot of careful nursing time with her.  

To be a tumbling weed is fine, be your own lokapala, child. Tell me how you are holding up, how is your crush doing, work etc. Always a pleasure to hear from you.
- Penguin

My eyes traced the lines over and then stared blankly at the page.  My mind was racing with a thousand thoughts and then none. So still, I could not even hear myself breathing.

And then I started to write,

Dearest Mr. Penguin,
I am very sorry about your friend. Please shower her with any comfort and friendly love you can give, and I am here shall you need anything. Delicate times. 

I am doing fairly well, no more night time anxiety. Hydrangeas are in full bloom. And he is doing what he does best, traveling. He is going back home in a few days, and I am nervous. 

I do not know what it is. Today Ali from my Tuesday group offered to tend to my injured foot and asked if I was single; and Johnny asked if he should fly down here to see me. Flattering, of course. But as of now the heart opens for one and closes for others. What do I say? Can't we resist a fate the moth that flies to the flame has with amor? Tell me what the Lunars do next time? 

Here is that Vietnamese poem I mentioned some time ago:

Can anyone on Earth ever know
how many stalks are in a rice field?
How many bends are in a river?
How many layers are in a cloud?

Can anyone sweep the leaves of a forest?
Tell the wind to shake the trees no more?
How many leaves must a silk worm eat
to weave a dress of colors from our past?

How much rain must fall from clouds
before ocean overflows with tears?
How many years must the silver moon
age before it grows older than time?

In the middle of a still quiet night
the moon appears and waits nearby.
He who can steal my heart for him
I will forever sing joyful songs.

Stay well Mr. Penguin.
- Gaya

I took a deep breath. I had written on one additional page. This is becoming a full fledged letter now. I folded the pages and looked up. Hass was standing in front of me, with a big white brace around his neck. I gasped.

-to be continued-