It was perhaps lust at first sight. She was sitting right in front of me. And I must confess that I ogled at her for the first few minutes of the journey. She was wearing a purple sleeve-less churidaar suit with yellow border and dupatta which resembled the flowers of the plant Lantana. She had a prolific top with long curly hair which she had tied fastidiously in a knot. A pair of small lumps from this knot was inexorably kissing her at her dimples on either side of her face. Those lumps were giving a tough time to my heart bumps! But she was looking really cute with them.
I coud hear this song in my subconscious sense:
“Aankhon mein teri..ajab si ajab si adayein hain…dil ko banade jo patang..saaanse se teri..woh hawayein hain..”
I got inebriated in her eyes. They were encompassing a complete Universe in them having two blue planets in the middle surrounded by the glints of white sunlight all over the periphery that covered 2 meter to attack me in less than 8.3 seconds! It was as if the Aurora Borealis had chosen her eyes to spread its color across that compartment of this Delhi bound train. Her cheeks were quite fluffy as if she had confiscated a Bengali Roshogulla between her jaws. Her lips were coated with a light-purple lipstick which resembled the marijuana leaves coated with ready-to-serve hot chocolate fudge. She smelled lovely. She looked bhhheauuuutiful. Laconically speaking, she was, perhaps, a magnum opus of the almighty.
By that time, I didn’t know that whether it was lust or love. See, if lust was taken on negative X-axis at -5 and love was taken on positive X-axis at +5, then I was vacillating between -2 and +2.
“Aayi aisi raat hai jo..bahut khush naseeb hai…chahe jise door se duniya..woh mere kareeb hai..”
I really wanted to confabulate with her. I wanted to know more about her; sit close to her; caress her; hold her hands and embrace her (-2 side of X-axis!).
I coud hear this song in my subconscious sense:
“Aankhon mein teri..ajab si ajab si adayein hain…dil ko banade jo patang..saaanse se teri..woh hawayein hain..”
I got inebriated in her eyes. They were encompassing a complete Universe in them having two blue planets in the middle surrounded by the glints of white sunlight all over the periphery that covered 2 meter to attack me in less than 8.3 seconds! It was as if the Aurora Borealis had chosen her eyes to spread its color across that compartment of this Delhi bound train. Her cheeks were quite fluffy as if she had confiscated a Bengali Roshogulla between her jaws. Her lips were coated with a light-purple lipstick which resembled the marijuana leaves coated with ready-to-serve hot chocolate fudge. She smelled lovely. She looked bhhheauuuutiful. Laconically speaking, she was, perhaps, a magnum opus of the almighty.
By that time, I didn’t know that whether it was lust or love. See, if lust was taken on negative X-axis at -5 and love was taken on positive X-axis at +5, then I was vacillating between -2 and +2.
“Aayi aisi raat hai jo..bahut khush naseeb hai…chahe jise door se duniya..woh mere kareeb hai..”
I really wanted to confabulate with her. I wanted to know more about her; sit close to her; caress her; hold her hands and embrace her (-2 side of X-axis!).
***
Wait. Now, before you prejudicate me as a lewd and prurient soul, I would like you to vindicate me of these censures because I was certainly not gaping at her for the sole purpose of X-raying her and fantasizing her salaciously. In fact, I hate those people who do that and I wonder why they stare at a girl so incessantly that makes her feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. Rather, I was just listening to my heart on which I had gone unbridled.
Let me elaborate a bit more here. I believe that there is no such thing called love at first sight. I mean, how you can love a girl without getting yourself acquainted with her soul, her feelings, her disposition, her conscience and her values. And these things can’t be understood (or noticed) in first sight or even first meeting. An attraction towards a girl, at a first sight, can only be attributed to her tangible beauty and the way she carries it. Though, one can find oneself struck by the cupid anytime after that! Anyways, I will take up this topic (or issue!) some other time. For now, let’s go back to the Rajdhani Express.
Let me elaborate a bit more here. I believe that there is no such thing called love at first sight. I mean, how you can love a girl without getting yourself acquainted with her soul, her feelings, her disposition, her conscience and her values. And these things can’t be understood (or noticed) in first sight or even first meeting. An attraction towards a girl, at a first sight, can only be attributed to her tangible beauty and the way she carries it. Though, one can find oneself struck by the cupid anytime after that! Anyways, I will take up this topic (or issue!) some other time. For now, let’s go back to the Rajdhani Express.
***
Suddenly, an inner voice, perhaps of my conscience, came somewhere from inside the soul which brought me back from the unbridled fantasy to the reality. I had lost total control over my senses but not over my morals and values. The spiritual side of my soul reproached the materialistic side of it. I apologized to god and vowed not to look at her like that anymore (+2 side of X-axis!). I removed my eyes from her (though only for next 20 seconds!).
It was 6:30 in the evening. She was lost in her own world, squinting through the window of the train. And I was busy in cooking the “initiation line” to talk to her.
“Kitna kuchh kehna hai fir bhi hai dil mein sawaal kahin….sapno mein jo roz kaha hai who fir se kahun ya nahi….”
Though, I had advised many of my friends on how to approach a girl and initiate a discourse with her but I had never thought that I would be requiring some of them ever in my life. And believe me when I seriously hankered them, I was nowhere. I went total blank. After all, who would want to get bowled out at the very first ball?
Hi, I am Rahul..I am going to Delhi…what about you..?? ..Naaaaaahh
Hi…My name is Rahul….going to Delhi…you? ..Naaaaaahh
Hi…Main Rahul…naam to suna hoga?..Naaaaaahh
Hi..Are u going to Delhi? If she says “yeah” then ask “gr8…me also going to Delhi..I am Rahul, You..?” ..Naaaaaahh
“Aap bhi Delhi Ja rahe ho??” ..Naaaaaahh
I was busy juggling with the lyrics when a loud voice, seemingly of a middle-aged man, who was sitting on the side-lower berth, pierced through my ears.
“Excuse me”, he said scratching his groin, “Are you going to Delhi?”
I replied, “yes, you also?”
“Yeah”
“Great.. so, you are going on a tour or what?” I asked him, still thinking about the pending initiation step.
He told me that he worked for the technical team of Star Anand news channel and was going to Delhi near to his family forever as he got transferred from its Kolkata centre. Lets call him MAM (Middle aged man). I could see MAM’s bliss in his eyes.
We became silent for few minutes. There were just three of us in that part of the compartment. She was still looking out of the window as if she was craving for her Superman to come and take her away from this world to a separate planet with one tenth of Earth’s gravity on a witching space shuttle. There she would be living alone with him and they would be enjoying their life ever-after. Could I become her superman? First thing I would do is hug her and take a jump in one tenth of the gravity to remain in the sky for more than 3 hours (so that I would relentlessly look into her eyes and she would not push me away for 3 hours!). Uff…again started…I realized, I was sick!
I was waiting for the MAM to go out (may be for a piss or whatever!) so as to avoid any eavesdropping while I would converse with her. (Actually I wanted to protect myself from embarrassment if I would do something silly there!!) And the almighty heard me, right then. He went out and I pitched in!
“Hiii…You going to Delhi?”, I asked her without fumbling even once.
“Yes, u too?”, she said showing a bit of inquisitiveness in her voice. She looked interested.
“Yes.. Hmm.. you are from Kolkata only?”, I asked her, noticing her bare hands which had the shade of Bengali-color (neither too black nor too white but dark enough to seduce anybody).
“No. I am from Bangladesh. I am on a trip to India. I have already visited Kolkata and now want to visit Delhi”, she said as if I were a tourist guide and I would help her with the roadmap of Delhi. Though I was ready to become one for her!
She continued, “I have my mom with me. She is currently in different compartment. Could you help us out with the travel plan and sight-seeing in Dee-h-li?”.
“Yeah, sure why not”, I said sensing an opportunity there to create an impression.
“So, finally, I got a tourist guide”, she giggled demurely. I could see my graph moving towards the +X-axis. Yeah, it’s true that I was attracted to her by her beauty but her voice and her etiquettes seemed to compete fiercely with her beauty. My lust was transforming into love.
Then, MAM came in after sometime and lolled about his leg on his berth. I noticed him staring at her. I wished I would kill him after stabbing his eyes. He tried to join us but we almost effaced him. After all, his presence was superfluous to us.
For us, it was as if there were just two of us in that part of the compartment. We talked on life in Bangladesh, difference between the two countries, bollywood, cricket, etc. Her favorite player was Sachin Tendulkar. (Look, how close we were in our thoughts. Sachin was my favorite too!)
Now, there was one thing about girls which I didn’t used to like much that when they would go on babbling, they would never stop easily. They would describe a “simple” thing in a grandiose and awfully complicated way. But that day was an exception. Or perhaps, she was an exception. She told me deliriously about her stay in Kolkata and I was enjoying every bit of it. I was listening to her like a dumb. I was diving in her mellifluous voice and well-bred demeanor, hoping that she would never stop speaking and we would never reach Delhi. But whenever she stopped, I started so that she would not feel bored.
“How do you look so Indian when you are a Bangladeshi?”, I asked wondering about her Punjabi suit.
“Actually, my mom is a punjabi and my father is an Italian. They hitched-off against their parents’ wish and then settled in Bangladesh where the major client of my father used to live. That is why we are an ultra-modern family. And, we love everything about India, its dresses, its cuisines, its festivals, its movies and…”
“And what about its people?”
“Yea…of course….its people too!!” she chuckled looking into my eyes. Yes, for the first time our eyes met for more than 5 seconds. I was on cloud nine.
Then she decided to show me some photographs. She slouched towards my side (and I became nervous!). She raised her hand to adjust a small lump of hair towards the back of her ear. I was just going to say, “You are looking cute with them. Don’t do that”. But I refrained from saying so for some reason. She opened the album.
After 5 min., I was dead silent. I was the most doleful person on the Earth. I got up from there, went to the gate of our compartment and stood there. I felt like whimpering blatantly. How could that happen to me? I mean, why me? What bad had I done? It was excruciating. It was my first ever lust-transformed-love after all. How could it end like that? She had shown me her marriage photographs.
It was 6:30 in the evening. She was lost in her own world, squinting through the window of the train. And I was busy in cooking the “initiation line” to talk to her.
“Kitna kuchh kehna hai fir bhi hai dil mein sawaal kahin….sapno mein jo roz kaha hai who fir se kahun ya nahi….”
Though, I had advised many of my friends on how to approach a girl and initiate a discourse with her but I had never thought that I would be requiring some of them ever in my life. And believe me when I seriously hankered them, I was nowhere. I went total blank. After all, who would want to get bowled out at the very first ball?
Hi, I am Rahul..I am going to Delhi…what about you..?? ..Naaaaaahh
Hi…My name is Rahul….going to Delhi…you? ..Naaaaaahh
Hi…Main Rahul…naam to suna hoga?..Naaaaaahh
Hi..Are u going to Delhi? If she says “yeah” then ask “gr8…me also going to Delhi..I am Rahul, You..?” ..Naaaaaahh
“Aap bhi Delhi Ja rahe ho??” ..Naaaaaahh
I was busy juggling with the lyrics when a loud voice, seemingly of a middle-aged man, who was sitting on the side-lower berth, pierced through my ears.
“Excuse me”, he said scratching his groin, “Are you going to Delhi?”
I replied, “yes, you also?”
“Yeah”
“Great.. so, you are going on a tour or what?” I asked him, still thinking about the pending initiation step.
He told me that he worked for the technical team of Star Anand news channel and was going to Delhi near to his family forever as he got transferred from its Kolkata centre. Lets call him MAM (Middle aged man). I could see MAM’s bliss in his eyes.
We became silent for few minutes. There were just three of us in that part of the compartment. She was still looking out of the window as if she was craving for her Superman to come and take her away from this world to a separate planet with one tenth of Earth’s gravity on a witching space shuttle. There she would be living alone with him and they would be enjoying their life ever-after. Could I become her superman? First thing I would do is hug her and take a jump in one tenth of the gravity to remain in the sky for more than 3 hours (so that I would relentlessly look into her eyes and she would not push me away for 3 hours!). Uff…again started…I realized, I was sick!
I was waiting for the MAM to go out (may be for a piss or whatever!) so as to avoid any eavesdropping while I would converse with her. (Actually I wanted to protect myself from embarrassment if I would do something silly there!!) And the almighty heard me, right then. He went out and I pitched in!
“Hiii…You going to Delhi?”, I asked her without fumbling even once.
“Yes, u too?”, she said showing a bit of inquisitiveness in her voice. She looked interested.
“Yes.. Hmm.. you are from Kolkata only?”, I asked her, noticing her bare hands which had the shade of Bengali-color (neither too black nor too white but dark enough to seduce anybody).
“No. I am from Bangladesh. I am on a trip to India. I have already visited Kolkata and now want to visit Delhi”, she said as if I were a tourist guide and I would help her with the roadmap of Delhi. Though I was ready to become one for her!
She continued, “I have my mom with me. She is currently in different compartment. Could you help us out with the travel plan and sight-seeing in Dee-h-li?”.
“Yeah, sure why not”, I said sensing an opportunity there to create an impression.
“So, finally, I got a tourist guide”, she giggled demurely. I could see my graph moving towards the +X-axis. Yeah, it’s true that I was attracted to her by her beauty but her voice and her etiquettes seemed to compete fiercely with her beauty. My lust was transforming into love.
Then, MAM came in after sometime and lolled about his leg on his berth. I noticed him staring at her. I wished I would kill him after stabbing his eyes. He tried to join us but we almost effaced him. After all, his presence was superfluous to us.
For us, it was as if there were just two of us in that part of the compartment. We talked on life in Bangladesh, difference between the two countries, bollywood, cricket, etc. Her favorite player was Sachin Tendulkar. (Look, how close we were in our thoughts. Sachin was my favorite too!)
Now, there was one thing about girls which I didn’t used to like much that when they would go on babbling, they would never stop easily. They would describe a “simple” thing in a grandiose and awfully complicated way. But that day was an exception. Or perhaps, she was an exception. She told me deliriously about her stay in Kolkata and I was enjoying every bit of it. I was listening to her like a dumb. I was diving in her mellifluous voice and well-bred demeanor, hoping that she would never stop speaking and we would never reach Delhi. But whenever she stopped, I started so that she would not feel bored.
“How do you look so Indian when you are a Bangladeshi?”, I asked wondering about her Punjabi suit.
“Actually, my mom is a punjabi and my father is an Italian. They hitched-off against their parents’ wish and then settled in Bangladesh where the major client of my father used to live. That is why we are an ultra-modern family. And, we love everything about India, its dresses, its cuisines, its festivals, its movies and…”
“And what about its people?”
“Yea…of course….its people too!!” she chuckled looking into my eyes. Yes, for the first time our eyes met for more than 5 seconds. I was on cloud nine.
Then she decided to show me some photographs. She slouched towards my side (and I became nervous!). She raised her hand to adjust a small lump of hair towards the back of her ear. I was just going to say, “You are looking cute with them. Don’t do that”. But I refrained from saying so for some reason. She opened the album.
After 5 min., I was dead silent. I was the most doleful person on the Earth. I got up from there, went to the gate of our compartment and stood there. I felt like whimpering blatantly. How could that happen to me? I mean, why me? What bad had I done? It was excruciating. It was my first ever lust-transformed-love after all. How could it end like that? She had shown me her marriage photographs.
Epilogue
Later she told me that she hitched-off to Sunil almost a year ago. After 8 months of their marriage, he got a contract in Spain and he was working there since then.
I pretended that I was still listening to her. “Whatever…”, I grunted. I didn't have the courage to look interested anymore. Might be, I still had some feelings for her (and that would continue to remain,perhaps!). I cursed myself for all those thoughts that started coming to me after my graph moved to +5 on X-axis. But that really didn’t matter any more. The fact was everything was over no matter what I felt then. I just wanted to reach Delhi as soon as possible.
But I did think, why did it happen to me? “Perhaps that is my comeuppance for my lust..”, I answered my mind.
***
(Disclaimer: All the characters in the story are real and belong to my journey in Oct 2007 from Kolkata to Delhi. Though its a work of fiction whatever is written about that girl and my feelings for her. Any resemblance of this story to anyother person is purely coincidental.)
