He has a slight stubble on his face, a never-ceasing smile on
his lips; and a slight silent hint of adoration, when he looks at her from the
corner of his eyes.
He looks at her, expecting nothing but a hello; for who but he knows that she talks a lot, but is not saying.
He looks at her, expecting nothing but a hello; for who but he knows that she talks a lot, but is not saying.
He walks next to her, as if the road next to the one which she treads upon be his. He walks besides her,
always. Sometimes behind her, sometimes ahead but hearing her footsteps; her faltering,
dancing half-hopping, half-walking footsteps; her clumsy self keeps missing the
step and slipping all the time. He knows those footsteps well enough now, they
walked a lot together. Together but never holding hands; sometimes their bodies
touched, their glances held each other, but he looked away always. It never mattered much, for there was always a lot to talk about and whenever they ran out of things to
talk about they always found something or the other to gorge on.
Nothing was different today.
He never misses an
expression; the smiles, the frowns, the look of awe and the hint of wrath. She was
the cloud, ready to burst at times…promising sunny afternoons later on.
Knowing just when she
was enticed by that bookstore, his eyes followed her when she maneuvered into
that filled- to-brim bookstore that promised a good bargain. His eyes held her still
when she came out with a frown saying that it was not good enough. He smiled at
her. He would not let her out of his sight, how can he, nowadays he just did
not see her enough. It was never enough.
A shade of jealousy spread
over his face when he saw her half-flirtingly joke with that other guy; he immediately
smiled realizing his folly. He looked at her. Did she notice that? She did,
didn’t she? Well, she always does. Their eyes met, they always smiled it away
.
She could be his, his to call. But he was someone else’s since
forever, for forever.
They were bound in
silence, or so he supposed.
Drunk lived felt and read in the umpteen coffee outings,
unplanned local train escapades, NFAK’s and Alchemies.
She was a nut-case. He was the nut and the case.
P.S. I like the Valentine’s Day. Just as I like fairy tales
and love stories.
