Posted: July 21, 2007 in Humour, Romance
Tags: , , , ,

It wasn’t an ordinary friday evening. I had just stuffed a pile of newly churned out 500 notes(off my first salary) into the shallow discomfort of my 11 yr old tattered rusty wallet, that now started to heave heavy joyous sighs like an 80 yr old on an instant high after a nicotine dose. I walked towards the Marathalli market intending to change the face of my wardrobe that now more or less resembled the remains of my college wardrobe.

The market was brimming with human shrieks all around as if the whole town was paid that very day and to cross the limits of coincidence, all had decided to change their wardrobes. Only that could explain the sorry state of the Pantaloons factory outlet. After around 35 unsuccessful attempts of wooing salesman’s attention, I gave up and walked out for a stroll.

And there amid millions of monotonous tired faces, i saw her: her face bearing the freshness of morning lilies; her beautiful kohl lined restless eyes as if searching for someone (for a moment i wished hopelessly, it was me they were looking for); her exquisite curves cherishing the warmth of a camel brown, velvety wool-cashmere coat; her feet, a powerhouse of energy, making their way towards us lesser mortals(i was too absorbed to check but i can assure u their were hundreds of us gaping at the splendiferous beauty). And then the unexpected happened. Her gaze reciprocated mine. I hadn’t the tenacity to persist and i shifted mine towards a nearby bookshop, wondering if what i saw was a mere hopeful illusion. I hadn’t the tenacity to resist either, so i checked again to make sure. It sure wasn’t an illusion. She almost halted, her gaze affixed at me, and then she resumed her stride straight towards me, this time with more vigour and interest. Perhaps I was the lucky one..

It definitely wasn’t an ordinary friday evening.

Seconds later, as she walked past me, i stood still, hypnotised by the fragrance of her sandalwood rose perfume. I vaguely remembered what had happened; her dark silken hair flew across my face, caressing it, as she came tantalisingly close; the fake fur of her turquoise green scarf cut through my finger gaps; and then the touch. Ah ! the divine touch. I remembered feeling the warmth of her palm onto my back. And then she went, abandoning me, mesmerized and lost.

I suddenly felt lonely in the crowd. So I called off my ‘wardrobe upliftment’ plans and walked back home. The weekend wasn’t a cheery one either. The days comprised of innumerable trips to the Marathalli market in futile hope, that further spiced up my misery. The nights were not dark enough to provoke me to sleep. Even the dreams had altered their timetable as if to tease me. The world suddenly seemed a confusing place to live in. The longest weekend of my life finally ended, leaving me dry n yet hopeful( i m a die hard optimist..).

Monday morning was a usual monday morning. I rushed through my morning chores and somehow managed to reach my stop in time. But my cab had beaten me again, this time by two minutes(i came to know later on..). After 10 minutes of incessant ‘lift-pleading'(i told u i m a die hard optimist..so i keep trying), I boarded an already over-burdened bus dancing to the tunes of a popular(that, i presume ) kannada (that, i presume again..) song. The conductor soon recognized the fresh entrant n rushed towards me for his 5 Rs coin. As I fiddled with my back pocket, tryin to locate my 11 yr old companion, Mom’s words started echoing in my ear, overhauling the bedlam around me..

“Beta, never keep too much money in your wallet, and why dont u use ur front pocket to keep it ??”

I now cursed myself for overlooking her concern then. And suddenly the pieces had started to fit.

Friday evening, the crowd, the resplendent lass, the fragrance and the touch……..

  “bazaar mein wo humse zara sa lag ke chali gayi..
   agli teen raatein hamari yunhi jag ke chali gayi..
   chouthe din jab jebein tatoli to pata chala..
   kambakth zebkatri thi thag ke chali gayi..”


As I gawked at the fleet of radiant black n brown(i could hardly differentiate..) Gucci wallets secured under a glass cover, I thought of her and wondered, who the divine touch meant more to.. me or her.. ??

  1. Nitin bansal says:

    abey seriously kat gaya kya … lo ab mera first salry gift to chala hi gaya :)P …..

    seriously yaar kuch godly likha hain .. i can imagine kya hua hoga .. keep writing.. ..
    aur ab mom ki baat yaad rakhna .:)

  2. Varun Narayanan Kutty says:

    NICE !! 🙂

  3. imj0ker says:

    na yar..tera gift ekdum sahi salamat hai 😛
    thanx 🙂

    Thanx dude !! 🙂

  4. aditi says:

    may be u seems 2 her like a “seedha sharif maasoom baccha :)),islie fas gaya”…jokes apart,a nice thought n written beautifully… 🙂

  5. sudeep says:

    Mast likha hai yaar.
    especially i like the way u have described the appearances etc.

    ->why did u modify the original ‘sher’
    ->abse apne paise mujhe de diya kar, mai sambhal loonga 😛

  6. Abhinav says:

    Waah re Mj..Ultimaaaeeeete likha hai baap..bandiyaan taapne lagaa bangi jaate hi..
    tere commitment ka kya hua :O

  7. Moghe says:

    Typical MJ style “lengthy sentences”..but beautifully maneuvered to convey the idea.
    Looking forward to reading the next blog in the line.

    P.S. aage vaali pocket mein rakhne ki salah maine bi di thi.. ab bhugat!

  8. imj0ker says:

    Thanx 🙂

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