S

S sits behind me in office.
He whistles incessantly the whole day. It used to annoy me initially, but not anymore. Its become like the sound of the crickets in the night. Annoying only when you notice it, otherwise you just forget about it. S laughs out loud, guffaws is more like it, gets excited by code check-ins and bugs and Sev2 , whatever they may be. He likes Douglas Adams, L. Subramaniam and listens to Indian classical music. He addresses his juniors as 'Dude'. He smokes. Today morning, someone stole all the footwear that was kept outside in his flat. He has a blog which I came across once while bloghopping , the URL I've forgotten now, and I've been trying to locate. He's passionate about music and loves loves loves his iPod. He takes photos. He draws erotic pictures, I saw one in his scribbling pad. I like his laugh - loud and uninhibited.

I've sat behind S, less than 10 feet away, for the past six months. We have never spoken to each other, not even a 'Hello'. Oh, last week there was a 'Do you have a blue pen I can borrow? '. That's it. Its kind of sad when I think about it.

He's still whistling.