The Divider Wave

Adil reached the agreed meeting area first and waited on the pavement near a clear shop sign. His friend Rafi was across the road, also on the pavement, separated from him by traffic, a divider and the confidence that friendship made instructions obvious.

Adil raised one hand and made a small circular gesture.

He meant: use the proper crossing and come around to this side.

Rafi understood: stay there, I will come around.

Both nodded. Both remained exactly where they were.

For the first minute, the arrangement felt efficient. Adil checked the shop sign again. Rafi adjusted his bag. Each believed the other was about to begin the sensible portion of the meeting.

After several minutes, Adil waved again. Rafi returned the wave. This established that both still existed and clarified nothing else.

They had planned to visit a friend’s small exhibition nearby. The venue was easy to find once they stood on the same side of the road. Unfortunately, the current communication method had made that first requirement a long-term ambition.

Adil considered whether there was a closer opening in the divider, then dismissed the idea. There was a proper crossing available, and neither needed to improvise through moving traffic. The problem was a message, not a shortage of courage.

He took out his phone while standing safely clear of the pavement flow and called Rafi.

“Are you coming?”

“You said wait.”

“I said come around.”

“With your hand.”

“Yes.”

“Your hand said wait.”

Adil looked at the hand, disappointed by its independent translation policy.

They laughed. Then they used actual words. Adil would remain near the named shop. Rafi would use the proper crossing and walk along the safe route to meet him. If anything changed, they would call rather than invent a second layer of gestures.

Rafi reached him a few minutes later. Nobody had climbed the divider, stepped between vehicles or demanded that traffic pause for a social appointment. Their friendship had survived a small amount of avoidable waiting and acquired a story.

“Nice wave,” Rafi said.

“Very clear intention.”

“Terrible delivery.”

They walked to the exhibition together. Their friend, Meera, asked why they had arrived later than expected. Adil began explaining the road. Rafi said the road had been entirely understandable; the hand signal was the disputed infrastructure.

Meera laughed and pointed them towards the displays. One piece was an abstract print containing several arrows. Adil studied it for a long moment.

“Any idea what it means?” Meera asked.

“Not without calling the artist.”

The joke remained useful throughout the afternoon. Whenever one friend pointed vaguely at a café or doorway, the other requested a full verbal instruction. It was irritating for approximately five minutes, then became an actual improvement.

At the café, they tested the theory on a sugar bowl. Adil gestured towards it. Rafi passed a napkin. Adil pointed more emphatically. Rafi moved his cup. Meera finally slid the sugar across and asked whether they had considered nouns. “Expensive technology,” Adil said. “Been available for years,” she replied. They adopted nouns immediately. By the second coffee, their requests had become so precise that the waiter asked whether they were rehearsing a play about ordering.

At the end of the visit, they arranged their separate journeys home. Adil checked the correct pickup side, chose a suitable waiting point and sent the details clearly to his driver before the vehicle arrived. Rafi did the same for his own plan.

They said goodbye on the pavement. Adil raised his hand automatically, then stopped halfway.

“What does this mean?” Rafi asked.

“Goodbye.”

“Confirmed?”

“Verbally confirmed.”

Rafi waved back.

For once, neither stayed to interpret it.

Read when you’re a passenger or safely off the road. Never while driving.