Friday, February 22, 2008

La Femme

The small, pretty hand with delicate fingers and manicured nails carefully painted maroon and dried carefully, rose upwards and slowly ran through the open black hair with a brownish tinge which fell till below her shoulder blades. She was doing this very often and I was trying my best to sneak glances at her with a "I don't care look" without seeming obtrusive or creepy.
We were both attending a lecture somewhere. We were both listening intently. Wearing a maroon colored kurta (very traditional yet very chic!) ending a little short of her knees, with a matching multani mitti colored loose salwar and dupatta to go with it, she carried it to Perfection. :P The word seems overused now that I have actually seen perfection.
She leans forward, straightens her dupatta and leans back again. She has ballet style maroon flat shoes which have a traditional feel. She takes out her feet from them for a minute. Ohh..dear God!! I fell in love with her feet. Very smooth, just like the rest of her skin. Pedicured feet with nails painted identical to the ones on her hands. Petite, delicate and stunning, I think I could look at them forever. Not to happen though, she puts them back in. However, my eyes keep reverting back to her feet again for a glimpse. It's so much easier to glance at her feet rather than turning towards her face all the time. Everything about her is mesmerizing and and her feet just reflect her stunning beauty.
Her beautiful hands move down towards her lap where she has a a book placed on top of a brown shoulder bag which matches completely with her attire. Even the book seems perfectly suitable to its immediate surroundings. I guess she could have done no wrong. Those eyes full of concentration listening to a lecture - eyes of a journalist analyzing everything word spoken. Those thin, perfectly formed lips which curve slightly at the ends sometimes to give the most enigmatic smile ever. I just can't have enough of her. I realize I can't just watch her go after the lecture. I have to do something. I try to keep my throat from becoming dry. Trying painfully hard to be COOL. Be composed and try and take any opportunity that presents itself. I rack my brains hard and fast to come up with a line, a saying, an opening - anything to talk to her. The bloody damned slow brain seems to be working slower than usual, in fact- not at all. It's also trying to concentrate on the lecture. Now, what the hell is that. Here I am with a surreal, exotic woman trying to come up with an intellectual remark that could spark off a meaningful conversation and all that my brain seems to be doing is listening to the lecture. The time was running out. She seemed fidgety. Packing her book in the bag, she looks ready to leave. I have to do something. This was not acceptable. Sure, you get to see plenty of stunning faces in MoodI, but she was something special. It would have been really sad to see her go without even talking to her. But my mind had refused to come with up with something. I know I am not an expert at making relationships out of thin air but I am not that bad at starting a conversation. This was pathetic. Never had I been so painfully aware of my inability to conjure up a line beginning a conversation. Every second seemed like eternity and the way she moved, seemed like she was going to out of there any moment now.
Well, it was good fortune that I was listening to the lecture because the opening was provided by the lecture. Some guy, heaven bless him, asked a question which brought out a similar reaction from us out loud. A one of exasperation!! My heart skipped a beat. There was my opening!! She said something to herself out aloud and I pitched in with some comment. We both started talking about it at the same time. I hoped she was unable to hear my heart beating, the exhilaration that was causing a celebration loud enough to drown out a World Cup goal. We seemed to making too much noise and were hushed up by the guys surrounding us. What the hell- I thought to myself. She said that let's talk later after the lecture. Yeah baby!! The 15 minutes after the lecture saw me trying to be at my intellectual best so that I don't seem like a jerk in front of her. I am proud to say that I held on quite well though most of my thoughts were directly stolen from Mr. Ramachandra Guha- I owe you one, Big guy- when he was kind enough to enlighten us on one of his book publicity tours at IIM Ahmedabad. She left as she had entered-quickly and gracefully- like an ethereal dream. I had a session with her again an hour later, a meeting to remember.
And the same night, a heartbreak that I haven't still gotten over yet.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

excellent points and the details are more specific than somewhere else, thanks.

- Norman