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.

Closure

It did not occur to him that ‘they’ were really ‘over’.

Maybe he had trouble accepting it. Or did not believe it.

Not when she said that she saw her future, and it did not have him.

Not when she said that they could still remain good friends… just good friends.

Not when he’d gotten to know from mutual friends that her family had started “looking”.

Not when she happened to casually mention to him that there was pressure on her to ‘settle down’ soon.

Not when she called him up to tell him that she was getting engaged. He remembered the awkward phone conversation when she broke the news to him. He had done the customary ‘congratulations’ bit, but the delay (even if for a split-second) was too obvious.

Not when he saw the engagement pictures splayed all over her profile (and her friends’).

Sitting in that wedding hall, seeing her walk onto the mandap…and into another man’s life. That was the most difficult moment in his life - ever.

To see her standing next to another man.

To see her becoming his.

To see that happiness in her eyes.

To see the scene which he had always imagined of, several times - with her.

He regretted attending the wedding. He wasn’t even sure why he did.

Maybe for the much needed closure. Maybe.

Noticed

She always noticed him. 

He noticed that she noticed. 

She also noticed that he noticed that she noticed him. But that never stopped her.

Her eyes. That look. Not a stare. Not a gaze. Something more. Like she wanted to tell him something, but had made up her mind not to. He never could really unravel what they were trying to convey.

She smiled every time she saw him. Every single time.

He reminded her of someone. That was it. That was all.

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.