This post is just open for comments.
Let me know what you think.
"You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life."
Monday 31 August, 2009
Sunday 9 August, 2009
A Proposal
This is a part fiction, part true story. I doubt anyone really knows what part is fact and what fiction. It'll be fun trying to guess [yes, some people will guess correctly] though.
I somehow still have the vague confusion of tenses-changing arbitrarily. Sorry for any such lapses. I'd like to know how the flow is, as such.
I had to steel myself; get the weight off my chest, lest it take a cancerous hold over my brain, my time. Her radiant beauty was like the sun; I could not afford more than a glance, lest my eyes get scorched, blind to all else. -
"Go, in the peace of Christ!"
Startled out of my reverie, I give the required "Thanks be to God!" response.
I had noticed her in church from about a year and a half ago, going for the sunday morning mass. She was definitely younger than me: when I had initially seen her, I had already gone through puberty, having satisfied large parts of my sexual curiosity and intrigue; whereas she was still a girl, not yet into puberty. She had a bony horsy/mouse-like face, clear complexion, with short hair curling about her ears, coming down to her mid-neck.
I did not know her name, I had never even spoken to her. I knew nothing about her other than the things I could observe. She had a Caucasian-ish balding dad, and an old-looking bespectacled mom. Well, atleast I assumed they were her parents because I'd never seen her without them. She had large eyes and keen eyebrows, and was probably the quiet type of girl.
As the final hymn was being sung, I recalled the time I noticed her past her puberty. I had just exited the church that morning and turned around, waiting for my brother when I saw her walk past. As she went by me, I glanced down. To my immense joy, I spotted them: the two tiny bumps on her shirt, round and ever so slight. Atleast she wasn't that young, that my feelings are like to a pedophile. Maybe she'd grow to like me! Er, who'm I kidding...
The hymn ended. I had to act fast. The plan was to intercept her before she reached her car, else I'd never get her alone. I exited the church, and looked to where she generally exited from. There came her parents.
And then, there was she! She was trailing her parents, which was going according to the plan. However, having never confessed my love to a girl before, I was completely overwhelmed by my emotions and the knowledge of what I was about to do. A few steps forward, each step harder than the last, and I found my legs turn marshmallow. My heart began thumping against my ribs and my throat turned dry.
I had to steel myself again. I looked back at the past two weeks: how thoughts of her had eaten at my mind; how plans and counterplans were formulated for this moment. I could not, would not, turn back now.
I called out to her, "Excuse me!" It came out as a croak.
Cursing myself in my mind, I took a step or two again and called out, "Excuse me!" But that came out as loud 'Ex', a soft 'cuse' and an undertoned 'me'. Sighing, I jogged up to her and called out "Excuse me?"
She turned. I stared. She stared back. Except for a few involuntary twitches, I was by and large immobilised.
"...Yes?"
If it wasn't for things suddenly having picked up pace, I might've wanted to digest the fact that I'd just heard her voice for the very first time.
"Hi! My name's Pradeep. Whats yours?"
"Why do you ask?"
Shit! Think of something! The plan! "Oh, I've seen you in church some times. I need certain data for a survey I'm conducting..." If I was a better liar, my plan might've been a bit less far-fetched perhaps. But as things stood, I hoped she'd buy it.
"Hmmm... I'm Shweta."
"Sheweta, I'll need your email address..."
"Hey I really gotta go now. Parents are waiting for me. Maybe next week...?"
I don't know what happened to me then, but the thought of waiting another week somehow seemed kind of unbearable. I hanged the plan, and just blurted out, "I have a crush on you..."
She stared. I searched her face. It betrayed nothing. Nothing except confusion. She looked as if my words had knocked out the ground from under her feet; like she was in free-fall. It had unsettled her. Badly. She looked lost. I decided to end the silence then, because her parents seemed to be getting restless, waiting at their car.
"Hey, its ok. Don't think about what I said. Just don't tell your parents. Make som... - "
I think the word 'parents' shook her out of her nightmare. She promptly turned on her heel and walked up to her dad and started speaking to him.
Fearing the worst, and not wishing to confront the man, I walked away as briskly as I could, not daring to look back. Fortunately, I was never chased, and didn't have to confront him.
Unfortunately, I never saw Shweta again. She stopped coming for the sunday morning mass, and the times I went for other mass timings, I could not find her. They'd probably shifted parish. But all this has never stopped me from looking toward her exit, every time I attend that church, in the fool's hope that I may once again glimpse a beauty that will surely have me intoxicated even to this day.
I somehow still have the vague confusion of tenses-changing arbitrarily. Sorry for any such lapses. I'd like to know how the flow is, as such.
I had to steel myself; get the weight off my chest, lest it take a cancerous hold over my brain, my time. Her radiant beauty was like the sun; I could not afford more than a glance, lest my eyes get scorched, blind to all else. -
"Go, in the peace of Christ!"
Startled out of my reverie, I give the required "Thanks be to God!" response.
I had noticed her in church from about a year and a half ago, going for the sunday morning mass. She was definitely younger than me: when I had initially seen her, I had already gone through puberty, having satisfied large parts of my sexual curiosity and intrigue; whereas she was still a girl, not yet into puberty. She had a bony horsy/mouse-like face, clear complexion, with short hair curling about her ears, coming down to her mid-neck.
I did not know her name, I had never even spoken to her. I knew nothing about her other than the things I could observe. She had a Caucasian-ish balding dad, and an old-looking bespectacled mom. Well, atleast I assumed they were her parents because I'd never seen her without them. She had large eyes and keen eyebrows, and was probably the quiet type of girl.
As the final hymn was being sung, I recalled the time I noticed her past her puberty. I had just exited the church that morning and turned around, waiting for my brother when I saw her walk past. As she went by me, I glanced down. To my immense joy, I spotted them: the two tiny bumps on her shirt, round and ever so slight. Atleast she wasn't that young, that my feelings are like to a pedophile. Maybe she'd grow to like me! Er, who'm I kidding...
The hymn ended. I had to act fast. The plan was to intercept her before she reached her car, else I'd never get her alone. I exited the church, and looked to where she generally exited from. There came her parents.
And then, there was she! She was trailing her parents, which was going according to the plan. However, having never confessed my love to a girl before, I was completely overwhelmed by my emotions and the knowledge of what I was about to do. A few steps forward, each step harder than the last, and I found my legs turn marshmallow. My heart began thumping against my ribs and my throat turned dry.
I had to steel myself again. I looked back at the past two weeks: how thoughts of her had eaten at my mind; how plans and counterplans were formulated for this moment. I could not, would not, turn back now.
I called out to her, "Excuse me!" It came out as a croak.
Cursing myself in my mind, I took a step or two again and called out, "Excuse me!" But that came out as loud 'Ex', a soft 'cuse' and an undertoned 'me'. Sighing, I jogged up to her and called out "Excuse me?"
She turned. I stared. She stared back. Except for a few involuntary twitches, I was by and large immobilised.
"...Yes?"
If it wasn't for things suddenly having picked up pace, I might've wanted to digest the fact that I'd just heard her voice for the very first time.
"Hi! My name's Pradeep. Whats yours?"
"Why do you ask?"
Shit! Think of something! The plan! "Oh, I've seen you in church some times. I need certain data for a survey I'm conducting..." If I was a better liar, my plan might've been a bit less far-fetched perhaps. But as things stood, I hoped she'd buy it.
"Hmmm... I'm Shweta."
"Sheweta, I'll need your email address..."
"Hey I really gotta go now. Parents are waiting for me. Maybe next week...?"
I don't know what happened to me then, but the thought of waiting another week somehow seemed kind of unbearable. I hanged the plan, and just blurted out, "I have a crush on you..."
She stared. I searched her face. It betrayed nothing. Nothing except confusion. She looked as if my words had knocked out the ground from under her feet; like she was in free-fall. It had unsettled her. Badly. She looked lost. I decided to end the silence then, because her parents seemed to be getting restless, waiting at their car.
"Hey, its ok. Don't think about what I said. Just don't tell your parents. Make som... - "
I think the word 'parents' shook her out of her nightmare. She promptly turned on her heel and walked up to her dad and started speaking to him.
Fearing the worst, and not wishing to confront the man, I walked away as briskly as I could, not daring to look back. Fortunately, I was never chased, and didn't have to confront him.
Unfortunately, I never saw Shweta again. She stopped coming for the sunday morning mass, and the times I went for other mass timings, I could not find her. They'd probably shifted parish. But all this has never stopped me from looking toward her exit, every time I attend that church, in the fool's hope that I may once again glimpse a beauty that will surely have me intoxicated even to this day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)