Obvious

Sly gazes.

Passing glances.

Any steady form of eye contact. Only if she willed it.

She could often feel his ardor course through her whole being.

Away and afar.

Or in close proximity.

Any ruse for the latter.

Just to be around. Her presence.

Comfortable silences. Just being.

Or free-flowing conversation.

Craving for either form of communication.

To unravel the enigma she is. One thought or gesture at a time.

He couldn’t help but convey.

And she couldn’t help but notice.

What is it that they call it?

A spark? Chemistry? Dynamics?

It was so obvious to her, and to him.

And yet never to anyone else around.

Affair

Was dating a co-worker ever a good idea?

Was it only physical? Was there no mental connect?

Feeling ecstasy to feeling shame. 

Feeling pleasure to feeling used.

Her mind always vacillated. 

She wished she could find out. 

Only, if he were not married.

Love

Oiling your face means you will love your mother more.

“Would it work the other way around?” wondered 5-year old Malutty, about her muthassi’s* tip.

She poured out a handful. 

And hoped her step-mom would love her more. 

* Muthassi = Grandma (in Malayalam)

Disappointment

She told him that she was getting married.

He said that he wished her well.

She waited.

For the hint of sadness. For that tinge of disappointment.

Which never came.

And that, both, saddened and disappointed her.

Wishes

She wished upon her eyelash. Blew it right off the back of her palm. She hoped it would come true. Not that she ever remembered the fate of the others. But too many ‘first stars’ had been spotted. And catching a shooting star, for real, seemed close to impossible.

Nope. Eyelashes will have to do.