1. en-ashram-N/G
2. 16-09-2025
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Frank took courses in economics, because he wanted to graduate with honors in mathematical economics. People around him believed that a degree in economics was a ticket to an administrative appointment in the civil service. If you want to live honorably, you should consider either civil service or a career in the armed forces. His best friend Gull had already joined the army and Frank jokingly called Gull’s Alsatian dog, Bazooka. Its name was actually Sam but Bazooka had greater appeal for the newly commissioned second lieutenant, Gull.

After acing the exams in economics in his Bachelor’s program, Frank decided to move away from what everyone thought would land him a good job. Job or no job, I will study psychology and delve into the human psyche and educate myself in the most important skill: How to think about others? His diversion was much to the chagrin of his dad, but his mom relented and encouraged him along the way. One day, quite by chance, Frank met with a retired college professor who was into taking long walks by himself. He would pass by Frank’s house and was very punctual. Frank could set his watch by looking at the time the professor was walking past his house. Why is he so punctual and organized? Frank decided to take the initiative and break the ice one day. “Hello, sir!” he managed to say as he stepped towards the professor and shook his hand warmly. 

“I must say you have inspired me through your daily walks and punctuality.” 

The professor beamed at this unexpected attention and reciprocated the greetings jovially. After that, it didn’t take long for this acquaintance to develop into a mutually reinforcing and self-fulfilling camaraderie.

Soon, after he finished his walk, the professor suggested that Frank and he can sit in the nearby Tim Horton’s for a cup of coffee. Frank agreed and thought that it would be useful if he could tap into the experiential wisdom of this grey-haired and kind man who seemed willing to pour a lot of his grey matter into his conversation with Frank. For instance, Frank thought, it would be nice if he could get the professor to talk about how one forms opinions about the other people and how one can understand their perspective before they have had a chance to express themselves at length. More specifically: How to think about others and their perspectives, without having known them inside out? He thought this could be useful for his purpose to not befriend someone too soon, or to not open up to him or her in the first couple of encounters. “It’s a dangerous world, my son!” his dad had once said to him – characteristically, without elaborating on it any further. It was a remark he made in just a matter-of-fact manner. It was like saying, “I have done my duty as a dad; now it is for you go out and face the world, for better or for worse.”

Is the fatherly professor an Oedipal replacement for own his biological father? He thought for a second. Lost in this thought, Frank and the professor entered the café and were greeted by a nice-looking white girl, wearing a starched white cap perched at a devilish angle on her dainty little head of auburn hair. Frank was immediately transported into a realm of confidence and natural politeness, when ordering coffee for himself and the professor. She moved lithely, almost with feline grace, as she picked up the menu card with those neatly manicured and finely formed fingers of hers, which she had placed on their table. She furtively noticed Frank’s rather timid glance trailing the movement of her fingers, as she picked up the menu-card. 

“He could be a good catch,” she mused, because she had recently extricated herself from her boyfriend of two years. She then quickly disappeared behind the counter, with a slightly swaying movement her apron moving from side to side, and she seemed to glide as she went inside the kitchen area to fulfill their orders. 

What would she be thinking, if anything at all, about my needlessly furtive glance when her fingers were lingering as she picked up the menu card. She probably does that dozens of times every day, he stifled the thought that was half-forming in his head. 

“I was wondering, professor, how do we think about the other people’s thoughts and read what is going on in their head?”

The professor leaned forward and connected with him directly, as if he were a student in his Psychology 101 class. 

“Basically, you pay attention to their body language — their posture, gesture, and movements; standing cross-armed or sitting cross-legged.” 

Then he went on to bring in eye contact, facial expressions, and subconsciously trying to erratically copy your own body language, etc. 

Frank would instinctively notice whether or not there was eye contact, but he thought facial expressions, and subconsciously trying to copy your body language was the professor’s own invention. “Is that all there is to this delicate art? I hope not.” Frank wanted to delve into the subterranean nooks and crevices of the professor’s wisdom. 

The professor was obliged to oblige him. “First, try to understand what it means to read people. Essentially, it’s the ability to better understand someone through nonverbal cues, communication, and behavior – you aren’t just hearing what they say, but looking at who they are through their body language, tone of voice, etc.”

“But, aren’t we getting more visual in our times?” Frank theorized somewhat tentatively. 

“Indeed,” the professor agreed. “Look at all the big neon signs, screaming advertisements everywhere. Our society is quite ‘visual’ now. And when we look at someone, in any social situation, we tend to make up our mind about them in the first minute, or so. Our modern technology helps accelerate our ‘reading’ of the other person. It is happening in job-interviews, as well as in male-female tryst situations. Many a time, the female politely thanks the male who has taken her out and sometimes, ten minutes into the supper, she leaves her half-eaten plate on the fake excuse that she has to answer a phone-call that may become extended. Prospective ‘boyfriend’ understands too well about these suddenly remembered phone-calls.” The professor was on a roll, and it was all making a lot of sense, too. 

“We may make up our mind about someone we’ve hardly met,” Frank philosophized. “But it takes a lot longer to change our opinion about them.” 

“It depends,” the professor was hedging. 

“On what,” Frank thought but didn’t say it, because it would have been kind of impolitely challenging the kind old professor. “My reading of him suggests that he clearly doesn’t have a personal motive in sitting down with me for coffee,” Frank thought he was getting pretty good at ‘reading’ people, 

Frank didn’t get a chance to run into the grey-haired wise old professor for a couple of weeks, when he decided to visit the coffee shop, Second Chances café. This time he was alone, and ready to pick up enough courage to ask the coffee girl why did she make a heart-shaped image on the foamy surface of his cup but not on that of the professor? At the counter, she greeted him with business cordiality, which somewhat numbed his spirits. But he tried to remain unfazed. 

“Which coffee brew would you recommend?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

“Arabica, Robusta, Liberica, and Excelsa.” 

This was her practiced reply, but today she said it with a sweet flair that even surprised her. All of these are girls’ names, he thought. 

“I don’t know which one to choose,” he hesitated, then added, “I am not good in the department of choosing,” he completed his sentence. 

“But he said he chose you carefully,” she said, with a glint in her eyes and a flush in her cheeks. 

“Who’s he?” Frank was groping in the dark. 

“Never mind, I will let you know later,” she said in a dismissive manner that left him wondering whether there was something surprising for him at the end. 

“There you go; enjoy your coffee,” she said with charming ease, as he took his seat — selecting one from where he could see her, without being directly seen. Touching the brim of his coffee cup, he thought, “It seems she has sprinkled a little fairy dust on one side of the cup.” He chose to drink from that side. 

“I wonder if she saw me study the cup and then select a particular side to sip from.” But she hadn’t, he concluded, and grew a bit self-conscious. 

She went about her little chores, darting in and out of the kitchen area. The empty counter was staring at Frank mockingly. Then he saw her approach his table with a moist piece of cloth, pretending to clean an already clean table top. 

“The professor told me two weeks and three days ago, from today, that he won’t invite anyone to my coffee shop, unless he found him ‘boyfriend material’”, she sniggered self-consciously. 

Now, Frank had recently parted with a girlfriend, and he knew how difficult it can be. 

“Then he invited you,” she added teasingly. Drawing some inspiration from the one and only talk he’d had with the professor, Frank managed to enter the dangerous territory when he sheepishly asked, “Is he somehow related to you?” Frank felt brutally encroaching her privacy. 

“Yes,” she confessed. “He’s my dad.” With that answer, she gave Frank a look that completely “un-girl-friended” him.

“So, I didn’t learn very much from the professor about how to read the other people’s thoughts and inner motivations.”

Having deciphered something, finally, Frank asked, with a new confidence in his voice, “What are you doing tomorrow, around lunch time?”

“Nothing else,” she replied with equal confidence. 

Dr. Saleem Rahman
Ottawa.

1. en-ashram-N/G
2. 16-09-2025
4. Tweet