Skip to main content

Truly, Madly, Deeply...

His head resting on the window sill, arms akimbo, eyes staring but not really seeing, he greeted the dusk. From the distant mosque, the faithful were being called to prayers by that soul-wrenching voice as the night birds began circling the minarets in the golden evening sky. The single street lamp slowly came to life, flickering once, twice. Its bleak glow illuminated the heavy pall of dust hanging in the air and he blinked suddenly.

Somewhere across that landscape, among the millions of people teeming in the city, she was there. He could imagine her at work, her head bowed in that peculiar intensity of concentration that boded ill if disturbed. The dark shiny bob of her hair would ripple downwards, but there would always be a wisp tucked behind her ear, thinking of which almost tore at his heart. The graceful arc of her cheeks framed a face that was… he thought himself inadequate when trying to describe her in words and instead, he closed his eyes, almost as if in worship.

His friend, wooden and reticent at the best of times, had actually gasped when he’d seen her for the first time. The memory brought another faint smile to his lips as he wondered how innocence, naughtiness and a deeper hint of mystery managed to express themselves simultaneously in those eyes. Even now, he could feel his heart beating slowly but ever so loudly as he contemplated… her, almost like she was right in front of him. To him, she was. Everywhere he looked.

The cards announcing their marriage were stacked in neat bundles in different parts of the room. Just thinking about that day sent shivers down his spine. Marriage! He was getting married, and to her! The reception would be spectacular; he’d made sure of it by reserving the best hall in the city for the evening. The honeymoon was to be in Mauritius and the tickets had cost him most of his life savings. But it would be worth it, just to see her smile. Eyes glazed over, his thoughts drifted, as night descended on the city and the lights came on in every building as far as the eye could see.

“Beautiful”, he thought… just like her… but she was more than beautiful, she was…

The first man to enter the room also gasped when he saw her, or rather the photos of her covering every square inch of the room. Then, the smell hit him and he gagged, and almost immediately retched noisily as he saw the figure by the window sill, the sunlight pouring into the muggy room.

“Crazy fucker…” muttered the inspector half-pityingly, glancing at the invitation card and air-tickets as he drove away. But he too found it hard not to think of her face… especially since it was plastered across the billboard announcing the release of her next movie.

Song for the moment: Sajnaa Aa Bhi Ja - Shibani Kashyap

Comments

bhumika said…
did you just watch om shanti om? :P i wonder if such a beauty does exist...
Anonymous said…
It's about Bombay and how it is very possible to be lonely or ignored even with so many people in the city. Who knows what gets swept under the carpet ?

Popular posts from this blog

Let them talk

There is a school of thought that would quite likely be scandalised by the idea of intellectual discussions being held in a pub / bar. Impropriety and what have you. Folks like us (you know who you are) would counter with the notion that our intellectual pursuits occur only in pubs. That's when the cranial creases are watered... doused actually, & whatever is left of our neurons are firing on all cylinders, ablaze thanks to the tipple of choice. Mind you, I'm not advocating that this is the best way. It's just our way. Or my way, if any reader resents the liberty I've taken of assuming anything. Not to keep tottering around the proverbial mulberry bush (why mulberry, I ask), the latest discussion touched on the dichotomy(?) of loving your work. That is, working the week for the sake of the cheque & engaging in your passion during the weekend OR striving to make your passion, your talent or a synonym of your choice the porker from which your bacon is carved. Ri

Many the miles

Some time ago, I decided to cut down on the whining that seems to be a major theme on this blog. After having written a couple of short story posts and one interesting challenge, I found that more commentary on life, its machinations and assorted tomfoolery just did not interest me. For the moment, at least. That also thankfully means that I can't talk about the Indian cricket team's test saga. Anyway, in recent weeks, a new trend has taken root in that fragment of the 'gang' that lives in Pune. Instead of meeting up and hitting the tipple every now and then, we meet and they discuss trekking to various forts in and around Pune. Notice how I'm not in these councils-of-war. Although I've played sports in school and college, I've never been a fan of physical toil. All these talks conjure up are images of waking up at some ungodly hour before sunrise, scooting to some random hill / fort and huffing, puffing, slipping & scrabbling around in near darkness w

The baying of the hounds

Dear reader, The past few months have been punctuated by sound and fury on account of the renovations around the house. The incessant noise, rubble and dust have often led to frayed tempers and the standard indignant inquiries about the point of this whole exercise. But there's a long way to go, so we must persevere... with gritted teeth. Speaking of dust, the Lenovo laptop running Manjaro OS has been quietly gathering sackfuls of the stuff. Unfortunately (but understandably), my Macbook has become the default instrument of distraction, with the Lenovo coming into play whenever I miss USB ports. All sarcasm aside, the Mac is convenient to use and the apps 'just' work. I've praised the Linux ecosystem for years on this blog, so there's no question of indicting them now. But hear me out. I use a VPN service. In this gilded age of freedom and tolerance, I think everyone should opt for a reliable, paid service. It does not have to matter that the things you do on the in