One day, on one of his usual tours, as his car lazily crawled through the overcrowded tiny town road, he casually looked over his shoulders, at the passing crowd, just then he was struck. He couldn't think clearly, his heart was beating badly, that numbness returned to his head. When was the last time he felt that numbness, he thought, the answer was quick, almost seven to eight years ago! He wanted that feeling to last, but it was gone as soon as it came. He came to senses, and hurriedly looked back, he couldn't see her. He couldn't even recollect her face completely, her thoughts fogged his mind, he had just seen a glimpse of her, and those weird feelings rose in his heart.
He suddenly became conscious of the driver looking at him in the rear-view mirror, he straightened his face and rose the paper he was reading, to his face, although he could barely make out what was written. The girl's face kept coming back to him, he started thinking of her, she must be in her late teens maybe 17 or even 18, and he was 23, he thought to himself, was it a crush which he had at that girl, the minute he saw her, or was it something else? His heart pumped in its little cage, as he tried to cherish the feeling which had just possessed him.
He reached the city, and completed his work, he eagerly waited to return. It was almost dusk, when his car reached the little town again. He tried to look at many places at one time, he was looking for a blue sweater which the girl wore, he was silently hoping, praying in his heart, that he should spot the girl again. What he would do, if he spotted her? His mind questioned him, he hadn't given thought to that yet, he just wanted to catch another glimpse of that girl. How he wished, his car punctured, or got stuck in a traffic jam, so that he would have enough time to look around, and may just spot the girl.
But none happened, the car moved quickly out of the town, but he kept quite alert till they were at the outskirts of the town, looking around, against the tiny little voice in his head, which suggested, that he would never see her again.
He rested his head at the seat, he wanted to close his eyes, but as if his eyes were frozen, he couldn't close them, his gaze fixed at the window of the car, looking at the road.
His heart confronted him with another weird feeling, he cursed himself, for being mature, how he wished he still had a teenager's heart, where he could have done without knowing, that somehow somewhere he felt stupid, and that he was a grown up adult now. He leaned back and smiled, and thought, that may be hearts were meant to play such stupid pranks! The girl's sweet face filled his mind again!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
He was dressed in shabby old clothes covered with stains of paint. The cigarette looked strikingly new against his old dirty clothes. His hair was a mess too, covered with dust from scraping paint. His hands appeared as if they had a thin white film/coating of white powder, the same was true for his face. He merged well with the surroundings, sitting by the roadside, on a huge stone, near a paan shop. The moment one looked at him, the cigarette would glare back at the person, obviously because it was such a great misfit in the whole setting! The hands which would normally hold a bidi were today caressing a cigarette with great tenderness and awe!
His pose, was the next thing one would notice, the right leg crossed over the left one, the left hand supporting his weight as he leaned back, his head held high, back uncomfortably straight, and the right hand, yes you guessed it right, caressing the cigarette, while the twinky (little finger) at an angle of 45o from the rest of the fingers!
This clearly shows, that the cigarette was a luxury for him! He was relishing it, with the pride often found in Rajas and Maharajas! I wished, I could click a snap of his and post it here!
I know it will sound awkward, but my post ends here, I feel I have given a pretty clear picture, now will leave the thinking to you! :) Enjoy!
His pose, was the next thing one would notice, the right leg crossed over the left one, the left hand supporting his weight as he leaned back, his head held high, back uncomfortably straight, and the right hand, yes you guessed it right, caressing the cigarette, while the twinky (little finger) at an angle of 45o from the rest of the fingers!
This clearly shows, that the cigarette was a luxury for him! He was relishing it, with the pride often found in Rajas and Maharajas! I wished, I could click a snap of his and post it here!
I know it will sound awkward, but my post ends here, I feel I have given a pretty clear picture, now will leave the thinking to you! :) Enjoy!