© Manas Gupta
It
was a freezing Delhi
The
weather forecaster had droned on about how this was one of the coldest winters
since 1929. I was waiting for my bus, wearing my made-in-China jacket with the
hood that gave one just enough anonymity to not stand out.
It
wasn't her appearance that drew my attention at first. It was her laugh. A
loud, full-throated, uninhibited laugh that irritated the grumpy old men
standing near her but drew a smile from the younger ones, some of whom stared
shamelessly.
It
was a laugh full of life and warmth and it touched something inside. I stole a
glance. She was on the phone, her breath visible in the cold January morning.
Thankfully, the sound of the laughter went well with the pretty face. She had
nice, even teeth which made her smile dazzle. Her eyes had a life of their own
and changed with every sentence. She wasn't very tall, about 5'4. She was
wearing jeans, a bright multi-coloured polo-neck pullover and grey sports shoes.
"College girl," I thought as I strained to pick up her conversation
on the phone to hear her voice again.
My
heart was beating loudly and there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach, a
combination of fear and excitement, as if I was going to dive into a pool from
a really high cliff. In the midst of that loud Delhi
Her
bus came before mine. No. 570, I noticed. "Must be going to
Janakpuri," I thought. As she climbed aboard, she glanced in my direction,
as if she knew I was staring. I was embarrassed. She smiled. I wanted to avert
my head in shame but something kept it in place. I blinked. And she was gone.
Chapter 2
I
reached the bus stand 5 minutes early the next day, hoping to see her again,
desperately wishing that she be a regular. She came. Thump, thump, thump,
thump. I gathered some courage and withstood the glare of a chubby lady in a
sari to position myself closer. This time I got a whiff of her perfume. Thump,
thump. "Quiet, damn you," I thought, scared that someone will hear
the heartbeat.
I
wanted to start a conversation. Should I ask her the time? Naah! Too lame.
Should I ask which bus goes to Janakpuri? Yeah, right, and come across as
stupid. Just then, her phone rang, preempting any chance of a conversation.
"Yeah mom, I've taken the lunchbox," she said. Her voice was like
molten chocolate, syrupy and sweet with just enough bitterness in it. And then
the bus came. I again stared, hopeful for an encore. She did glance back and
this time I smiled. She didn't. Her mind was elsewhere. And then she was gone.
I hadn't blinked this time.
Chapter 3
Our
meetings became regular and winter turned to spring, the season of love. But Delhi
We
started arriving at nearly the same time everyday. She had smiled at me on the
third day when she reached the bus stand, encouraging those hormones that had
gone into hibernation after college. But still, I kept quiet. The only sound
being “thump, thump”. For some strange reason I believed that she could hear
it, and I stopped telling it to shut up.
The
plump lady in the sari too seemed to have jumped to her own conclusions. Her
hostility dropped and when I reached the bus stop she would slide over with a
conspiratorial smile.
Chapter 4
Summer
came with a vengeance. A lot of people hate the cold, harsh winter in Delhi
In
this insufferable weather, I decided enough is enough. Today is the day I speak
to her. A do or die moment, the impulsiveness brought on by the heat and
perhaps the shame of having waited forever.
She
came at the same time. I was waiting. There was no hiding behind a hood today.
I was wearing an ironed, white linen shirt and emitting the new deodorant I had
seen on TV. The one that attracts women like a millionaire attracts blondes.
Today,
she was in a salwar-kurta. She wore a bindi and there was a glow on her face. It
was as if she knew today was going to be a special day.
As
I moved closer, waiting for her smile, another man came and stood beside her.
She smiled at him. He quietly, without drawing attention, held her hand. She
blushed. I watched.
She
got on to the bus as usual and while climbing, she looked at me and
smiled...like everyday. I couldn't smile back.
©Manas Gupta
The End
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