Her smile was beautifully perfect, tailor made by nature with great care to suit her smart looks and match those wide brown eyes which glowed with a gentle sparkle each time her pink lips parted in happiness. She took praises with such modesty as to drop her eye lids and colour deeply in feminine blush which would make any man, regardless of his age, fall for her instantaneously and for his own fancy, would want to make her smile time and again. Her speech was elegant, full of passionate expressions, every word uttered with greater care, pronunciations complying with rules in dictionary, statements overly simple yet stylish made by her sensuous voice and expressive eyes which just couldn't fix on one object but frolic around the boulevard of her imagination while she talked.
There she was, standing in beauty, playing perfectly the role of a desirable company, holding on to that book which her brother had given her that same morning, aware of the pretty sight which she herself was. She couldn't let go off the book and would quickly peep through the bookmarked pages to read a few lines, try to make sense of interwoven words, delight in subtle ideas, indulge in entropy and make the book even more desirable to herself. She wore a jet black, back-less dress, which fell from her naked shoulders down until it covered her thighs only partially. It was rather unusual, she thought to herself, to carry a book to a party as that, flip through the pages every ten minutes and enjoy the goodness by herself. But she couldn't have done anything better to keep herself entertained at the mundane celebrations, which did not allure her a bit, for she was shy amongst the crowds which spoke little or none of her interests but gossip around with loud enthusiasm of wannabe up-town creatures.
A couch at the corner, which she found, was cosy enough for her delicate body to rest and peaceful enough for her thoughts to take shape. Unlike flibbertigibbet ladies with colourful dresses and sparkling diamonds, hopping across the hall to get into random conversations in the groups which they thought were the most happening at that instant, she chose to relax herself in solitude beneath the warm saffron light, hiding from everybody's sight, making her absence felt amongst the overly dull crowd. She was the object of envy for the ladies who found her dressing sense disagreeably stylish, choice of discussions too intellectual to participate in and hence chose to ignore her for very apparent reasons. She was used to all this and did not care more. In fact she wished for solitude or a simple, small decent company which would readily discuss about the most fascinating places to visit, interesting books to read, soulful music to listen to or may be indulge in some delightful witty conversations. She found none but solitude beneath the warm saffron light which made her feel a little more than unnecessarily burdened.
Since the time she had arrived there, she had taken interest only in two things, her book and a handsome man noticing her every 10 seconds from amongst the crowd which he was pretending to be a part of. His eyes just couldn't get off that beautiful structure of flesh and bones with pretty face, which was like an exquisite flower imported from some far off island of corals, featuring the expressions of a shy, young school girl. She had seen him before just once at the cafeteria but didn't get a chance to hang around in the place for some more time to get acquainted with his mannerisms. He surely had noticed her then, for the first time??.., she wondered and was not sure. Hers, then, was the first time indeed. There he was with a glass half-filled with a sparkling golden liquid she did not prefer to drink, a hand in his smart jacket's side pocket. She felt consciously beautiful.
The lines of the poetry would pull her inside her own head and she would sit motion-less, staring at one object with her eyes wide - not blinking. He would notice her countenance which resembled the ancient Greek-sculptures. Sometimes she would smile briefly, sometimes wear the face of The Thinker, sometimes twitch her grief muscles and sometimes give a straight blank look. He would adjust himself amongst the group so as to keep a side eye on her and would turn around completely whenever chanced by bursts of laughter or cheerful exclamations of the company. She would close her eyes and sip on the milk-shake she had ordered to forcefully keep herself from obviously standing out from the crowd. She thought he would be aware of her agony of mundane party and then she wondered, based on his repeated glances, if he was smitten her.
The next time they were chanced upon only for a brief two - three seconds, when she, with her regular folks, was walking post lunch around in the lawn just before the entrance and he came by riding his bike with a familiar lady riding pillion. A moment was enough for her to acknowledge that beautifully dressed lady and resolve in her mind that it was of her propriety not to take any interest in matters as such. He understood her gesture as that of a well-thought young lady and was affected by her response. The moment's glances at each other were enough for both to exchange the unspoken messages.
There was no doubt in her mind that he secretively admired her for reasons not very apparent to her. Her contemplations pressed her to wonder about herself and her work. She was a gifted writer. Her bemused feelings about him had started to show up in her works which had recently developed a touch of romance. Every time they would look at each other for a brief second, just when she would blush in her cheeks, lowering her sight but he would keep the sight maintained for another second to delight in her feminine beauty. His steady gaze would make her conscious of herself. It was almost like he could see her through the shades of her clothes. Her heart would pound like a heart of a runner who just returned from a 5 km run. She would carelessly look at different places just to avoid his constant gaze trying to be indifferent but failing miserably every time he fixed his eyes on her. She didn't expect anything from him for he was a stranger and she disliked unnecessary acquaintance. But this particular stranger tickled her fancy for reasons unknown and she liked exchanging glances more than she disliked useless conversations. There was fun in this mystery, she thought to herself.
He had walked a few steps in the lounge just when she appeared at the door. It seemed like he was expecting her there. She was alone this time with no company. The moment she saw him, she knew he was waiting for her to come. They looked at each other, exchanging mutual feelings of solitude, which they were subjected to by the presence of bare walls and absence of people. There was not a single creature around to observe their exchange of mysterious glances or sense the pounding heart beats. Her smile just could not be contained, for his eyes were fixed on hers as she walked before him towards the refreshment area to grab herself some drink which she needed to keep herself awake through her tedious work. He stood there besides her as she poured herself a cup. She knew he was observing her. Her posture, hand movements and expressions refused to be under her control. She blushed excessively.
Not a word was spoken all those days between them. There were only exchanges of anticipations which they both accepted to be valid. At lunch hour, the common area was getting populated just when he appeared, attended by his friends. His eager eyes located her at one table near the food stands, where she was having food with her party, laughing, talking and expressing agreement. She looked beautiful as ever. Her dressing never failed to turn heads where ever she went and she was completely aware of it. She knew that it was his timing too to come for lunch and secretively had been waiting for him. The moment he arrived, she blushed like a teenager but covered it well with the laughter that followed in the group. She knew that he caught her there and he was aware of it. His eyes followed every gesture of her, noticed her lips utter words with glee. She tried not to make her knowledge of his presence obvious to him but she failed badly.
Then there was some occasion for which people had gathered and were spread around the lobby. He stood there chatting with some people around and she came, descending down the stairs with a friend, thinking about him. The moment she got down there was a brief catching of glances, after which they walked inside the mini auditorium and were seated at places so far from each other and so at unfavourable places that they couldn't see each other again. After the session ended there was just a brief acknowledging glance at each other which gave away nothing except the message of parting.
They were once chanced before each other when she was waiting for the bus, besides the empty road, and he having found her standing alone in the evening which was fast maturing, approached her. She looked at him once, then lowered her eyes with mysterious smile, colored deeply and started to walk slowly towards the bridge which connected one suburb to another. In silence they both started walking, as the cold breeze touched their bodies, as their breathed in same air, neither of them wanting to speak about anything. Her heart was pounding with excitement of solitude shared with him, whose name she did not know. A poet at heart, she pulled out a small paper which she had carried all the time since she had written a villanelle on it. Their pace was slow, when she started reading it out to him whom she had connected with, long time back. As she read, in her voice of overwhelming expressions, he moved closer to her, their bodies just an inch apart. An unknown current waved through her body as she reached the end of the poetry she had written about him and her feelings. She closed her eyes at the end. He was so close to her that she could sense his heart beats inside her veins, his body heat beneath her skin, his warm breath on her tender lips. Only silence prevailed in the strangeness of connection between them. Him and her. Strange strangers, communicating with eyes.
Addendum: “I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
There she was, standing in beauty, playing perfectly the role of a desirable company, holding on to that book which her brother had given her that same morning, aware of the pretty sight which she herself was. She couldn't let go off the book and would quickly peep through the bookmarked pages to read a few lines, try to make sense of interwoven words, delight in subtle ideas, indulge in entropy and make the book even more desirable to herself. She wore a jet black, back-less dress, which fell from her naked shoulders down until it covered her thighs only partially. It was rather unusual, she thought to herself, to carry a book to a party as that, flip through the pages every ten minutes and enjoy the goodness by herself. But she couldn't have done anything better to keep herself entertained at the mundane celebrations, which did not allure her a bit, for she was shy amongst the crowds which spoke little or none of her interests but gossip around with loud enthusiasm of wannabe up-town creatures.
A couch at the corner, which she found, was cosy enough for her delicate body to rest and peaceful enough for her thoughts to take shape. Unlike flibbertigibbet ladies with colourful dresses and sparkling diamonds, hopping across the hall to get into random conversations in the groups which they thought were the most happening at that instant, she chose to relax herself in solitude beneath the warm saffron light, hiding from everybody's sight, making her absence felt amongst the overly dull crowd. She was the object of envy for the ladies who found her dressing sense disagreeably stylish, choice of discussions too intellectual to participate in and hence chose to ignore her for very apparent reasons. She was used to all this and did not care more. In fact she wished for solitude or a simple, small decent company which would readily discuss about the most fascinating places to visit, interesting books to read, soulful music to listen to or may be indulge in some delightful witty conversations. She found none but solitude beneath the warm saffron light which made her feel a little more than unnecessarily burdened.
Since the time she had arrived there, she had taken interest only in two things, her book and a handsome man noticing her every 10 seconds from amongst the crowd which he was pretending to be a part of. His eyes just couldn't get off that beautiful structure of flesh and bones with pretty face, which was like an exquisite flower imported from some far off island of corals, featuring the expressions of a shy, young school girl. She had seen him before just once at the cafeteria but didn't get a chance to hang around in the place for some more time to get acquainted with his mannerisms. He surely had noticed her then, for the first time??.., she wondered and was not sure. Hers, then, was the first time indeed. There he was with a glass half-filled with a sparkling golden liquid she did not prefer to drink, a hand in his smart jacket's side pocket. She felt consciously beautiful.
The lines of the poetry would pull her inside her own head and she would sit motion-less, staring at one object with her eyes wide - not blinking. He would notice her countenance which resembled the ancient Greek-sculptures. Sometimes she would smile briefly, sometimes wear the face of The Thinker, sometimes twitch her grief muscles and sometimes give a straight blank look. He would adjust himself amongst the group so as to keep a side eye on her and would turn around completely whenever chanced by bursts of laughter or cheerful exclamations of the company. She would close her eyes and sip on the milk-shake she had ordered to forcefully keep herself from obviously standing out from the crowd. She thought he would be aware of her agony of mundane party and then she wondered, based on his repeated glances, if he was smitten her.
The next time they were chanced upon only for a brief two - three seconds, when she, with her regular folks, was walking post lunch around in the lawn just before the entrance and he came by riding his bike with a familiar lady riding pillion. A moment was enough for her to acknowledge that beautifully dressed lady and resolve in her mind that it was of her propriety not to take any interest in matters as such. He understood her gesture as that of a well-thought young lady and was affected by her response. The moment's glances at each other were enough for both to exchange the unspoken messages.
There was no doubt in her mind that he secretively admired her for reasons not very apparent to her. Her contemplations pressed her to wonder about herself and her work. She was a gifted writer. Her bemused feelings about him had started to show up in her works which had recently developed a touch of romance. Every time they would look at each other for a brief second, just when she would blush in her cheeks, lowering her sight but he would keep the sight maintained for another second to delight in her feminine beauty. His steady gaze would make her conscious of herself. It was almost like he could see her through the shades of her clothes. Her heart would pound like a heart of a runner who just returned from a 5 km run. She would carelessly look at different places just to avoid his constant gaze trying to be indifferent but failing miserably every time he fixed his eyes on her. She didn't expect anything from him for he was a stranger and she disliked unnecessary acquaintance. But this particular stranger tickled her fancy for reasons unknown and she liked exchanging glances more than she disliked useless conversations. There was fun in this mystery, she thought to herself.
He had walked a few steps in the lounge just when she appeared at the door. It seemed like he was expecting her there. She was alone this time with no company. The moment she saw him, she knew he was waiting for her to come. They looked at each other, exchanging mutual feelings of solitude, which they were subjected to by the presence of bare walls and absence of people. There was not a single creature around to observe their exchange of mysterious glances or sense the pounding heart beats. Her smile just could not be contained, for his eyes were fixed on hers as she walked before him towards the refreshment area to grab herself some drink which she needed to keep herself awake through her tedious work. He stood there besides her as she poured herself a cup. She knew he was observing her. Her posture, hand movements and expressions refused to be under her control. She blushed excessively.
Not a word was spoken all those days between them. There were only exchanges of anticipations which they both accepted to be valid. At lunch hour, the common area was getting populated just when he appeared, attended by his friends. His eager eyes located her at one table near the food stands, where she was having food with her party, laughing, talking and expressing agreement. She looked beautiful as ever. Her dressing never failed to turn heads where ever she went and she was completely aware of it. She knew that it was his timing too to come for lunch and secretively had been waiting for him. The moment he arrived, she blushed like a teenager but covered it well with the laughter that followed in the group. She knew that he caught her there and he was aware of it. His eyes followed every gesture of her, noticed her lips utter words with glee. She tried not to make her knowledge of his presence obvious to him but she failed badly.
Then there was some occasion for which people had gathered and were spread around the lobby. He stood there chatting with some people around and she came, descending down the stairs with a friend, thinking about him. The moment she got down there was a brief catching of glances, after which they walked inside the mini auditorium and were seated at places so far from each other and so at unfavourable places that they couldn't see each other again. After the session ended there was just a brief acknowledging glance at each other which gave away nothing except the message of parting.
They were once chanced before each other when she was waiting for the bus, besides the empty road, and he having found her standing alone in the evening which was fast maturing, approached her. She looked at him once, then lowered her eyes with mysterious smile, colored deeply and started to walk slowly towards the bridge which connected one suburb to another. In silence they both started walking, as the cold breeze touched their bodies, as their breathed in same air, neither of them wanting to speak about anything. Her heart was pounding with excitement of solitude shared with him, whose name she did not know. A poet at heart, she pulled out a small paper which she had carried all the time since she had written a villanelle on it. Their pace was slow, when she started reading it out to him whom she had connected with, long time back. As she read, in her voice of overwhelming expressions, he moved closer to her, their bodies just an inch apart. An unknown current waved through her body as she reached the end of the poetry she had written about him and her feelings. She closed her eyes at the end. He was so close to her that she could sense his heart beats inside her veins, his body heat beneath her skin, his warm breath on her tender lips. Only silence prevailed in the strangeness of connection between them. Him and her. Strange strangers, communicating with eyes.
Addendum: “I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
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