If there were anything more beautiful than her, it was the idea of having her notice me. For three days in a row I have been visiting the 12-D Bookstore, and I haven't failed to notice her by the counter. Swearing on my life, I saw her in the exact pose and with the same book for these three days.
Her flowing, charcoal-black shoulder-length hair was perfectly parted sideways, with a tiny butterfly clip on the left. Deep-brown eyes decorated by a pair of thick, well-plucked eyebrows with a neat, shiny glabella in between, she might appear to be a very serious person. However, if you surveyed the lower face, her lightly puffy, rosy-pink lips usually convoluted into a pout totally wrecked the supposed seriousness I was just talking about. While much of my view was blocked by the goddamned counter, I could gather that she was lean and tall. To my estimation, she was of my age. Youthful, bright, and mysterious were elemental to her beauty—and truthfully, I cannot get enough of her.
Today is the fourth day and I am overly excited to see her. I hope I don't come out as a stalker, but, oh, well, I think I am behaving like one. No, No. Rahul, you are not a creep. You are just a young, 21-year old boy in love. Love? Yes, it should be love. They say, it is all about the tickles. Straight out of the movie Main Hoon Na, all about violins playing in the background as you imagine your favorite woman rocking the lovely sari; in my case, it should be solid colour Tees, which is the only fabric on her body I could manage to notice from the front of the counter. Damn, she looks so beautiful!
Mustering courage, I clapped on my cheeks to awaken the pretentious, minding-my-business persona so as to not invite unwanted attention. The agenda of the day is only to appreciate her existence. Perhaps, she is still sitting by the counter and busied in one of her books.
All kinds of thoughts came running into my already-crowded, wild brain and little did I realise that I was smiling to myself rather creepily. Much to my embarrassment, I was told later on that a number of visitors raised concerns about me before the owner, who, thankfully, was an old acquaintance and somehow managed to explain my ridiculousness. But, am I to blame? Okay, maybe I am, but when you are in love, you don't care. Rishi, the closest friend I have made in university, mocks me for being too simple-minded and fictional in perspectives. I could be everything which he says, but I don't want to let go of this, especially, now. This 21-year old young man wants to know a woman from the point of view of a man, not as a sexually confused boy who couldn't accept puberty as smoothly as most of his friends did. I am going to become a man. How? Well, let's wait, okay?
"You are blocking the way, Sir?"
If I were to describe that day, or that very moment, I would start rather dramatically. Mild, summery and slightly cloudy forming a canopy of utter comfort and quietude that would immediately put you in a good mood. You could hear the wind chimes tinkling at a store nearby, notice the narrow lane famously called the 12-D being unusually empty, and be envious of the soothing shade of the few trees flanking the road offered to any bystander. The sun was up and quite bright, despite the thin layer of clouds across the sky; it wasn't harsh on the body but certainly made it difficult for me to notice in the first second of that historic moment that she was right in front of me when I had turned around.
Can I start over with her description again? I know it may be a bit repetitive, but I promise, I will only add what has not been spoken of yet.
Okay, so, the first thing you would have noticed at that moment was her height. She was certainly two inches taller, and I am 5 feet 10 inches. I wouldn't lie but I was briefly intimidated by her sudden and overwhelming presence. Her body was, as I had guessed, slender, and was covered with yet another solid navy blue Tee atop a pair of light blue denim jeans. Today, her hair was tied up into a bun, and anyone could notice her large, shiny forehead, which for some reason, didn't appear that large when her hair was down. I think I had stared at her for a full half a minute and am thankful she did not call the police on me.
"I know you. You are the guy who has been coming here since Wednesday. Hate to break it, Sir, but checking out women in full public view is quite a dare."
NO! NO! NO! I am screaming, not aloud, yet painfully deep within. What am I to say?
"I did not object but I should now. What is up with you?"
NO! NO! Rahul, is there anything in your useless head that can make this right? After years of soul-searching, your heart finally skipped a beat and you lost the chance to even make the first move right (I don't know what that move is, honestly, but what the hell!) just because you couldn't control your shitty eyes.
"Excuse me?" She said following the awkward silence from my end.
I lifted my head up, which up until now, had drooped out of sheer shame. Believe it or not, she didn't appear offended. I think, she was giving me a benefit of doubt. While she shouldn't because she was spot on, I think she was a woman who would wait to listen before delivering a final call. Her words fell on my ears as a warning, but her facial expressions looked concerned. She stared right into my eyes, and I couldn't look at her without hesitation.
"Are you alright? I am sorry, but it will help the situation if you explained yourself."
Did she see right through me? I really wanted to know what prompted her to change the tone of her words. She sounded different. Now, her words were in perfect alignment with my interpretation of her facial expression. Was I right? If I was, what's next? I was dumbfounded at that moment, and trust me folks, every time, I feel this way, I do something actually really dumb. So, please don't be surprised by what comes next.
Clutching my fist, closing in the gap between the feet, and raising my slouched shoulders like a proud kindergartner, I declared something for which Rishi would have instantly put my head down on the guillotine.
"I like you!"