I could recognize that pink flowing patiala anywhere, the navy blue kurti, complimenting that slender structure.
The bounce in her walk, the way that shoulder length long hair flew. Not in the unnatural way, but just how it makes you wonder how you would like if you could ever take your eyes off.
Her back was towards me, yet I could gamble all my wealth,everything I own to declare it was her, yes it was.
However, my luck's never quite been such a gold before. I flinched at the thought of her being someone else.
I hesitated. What if these few steps breaks my dream? What if I loose this feeling so real, yet so surreal...... What if,it's not her?
I walk towards her, and there. I hear. That voice. Even after 4 years,I could swear on the deity above, it felt like I heard her everyday.
I remember how it was. Now,even better than real. I was drunk. It was one of those collage fests where seniors like us felt like we were the men of the world. And Hansraj collage... hah, the guys where the shit. Pratigya and I were seeing each other for over 4 years, we met in school, and the years followed. She was in LSR. She wanted it,she got it. She was the kinds who'd look at something,like it,and that's it,it's her's. No,not by means disrespected. But by the brilliance of the brain,and wealth of the heart. She was a lady, 100 boys would die for. But you know what? She never gave anybody a chance to consider her in a romantic way. She didn't break anyone's heart,no way. She didn't. But she was different. The way she dressed,the things that interested her, the tomboyish person,but a girl hidden in her true sense deep down into herself,which only very few people discovered.
She wore kurtas and patialas, or just plain kurtas with jeans and chappals. She wore long earings,rusted,silver,made of mud..Her hair used to be left open,or clutched high up, with strands of hair glorifying her clear skin below, or maybe, hiding it.. It was just a matter of how your eyes saw it..Most missed them.. She carried a jhola, she had millions she fancied, and she spoke loud and clear about her likes and dislikes. Being submissive was something she repelled.
She hated smoking. She used to drink. She used to party, she used to hang out,have fun like any other girl. But,she was never her age. She was much mature.. She...she.. was just different.
We met at a disco. No,we didn't meet. I saw her. Among all the thousand girls in mini skirts and halterts, and a hundred guys in tight tee shirts and jeans,I saw a figure,dancing with her hair flowing,few beady chains swirling around that neck which elegantly held the collar bone that bore out of the cut of her kurta..
Yes, in a dico,I saw her in a plain green kurta with a low cut neck,jeans that almost felt like they were a part of her legs,and sandals..
I laughed. Not at her, at myself. I took a sip of my martini, and stared at her for a while. Until...She noticed me.
She questioned me with her eyebrows, I turned around,and joined my friends.. Within all the gossips around the table I sat in,and the music; Lady hear me tonight. . . I kept stealing looks at her. She seemed to have forgotten I existed. I laughed at myself.
What a lady..
~ ~ ~
Next weekend, my friends and I were back at the disco. I somehow looked forward to it, I dressed better,a little shiny,actually. But I felt nervous. Her confidence overruled mine the other night. For the first time,I wasn't bold enough to go,introduce,make conversation. Her eyebrows intrigued me.
And the fact that she wore a kurta at a disco,didn't care a shit,and just danced with her friends with fun and confidence bubbling out........ her aura possessed me.
We entered,and my eyes searched for her.
For the first time,the sight of those cliched hot girls irritated me.
I went up the stairs,carelessly tapping the steel metaled bar, with a hundred hands jumping and dancing below, and that's when I saw a hand, right in the corner, beady stuff adorned in her wrist. She was wearing a halter kurta this time.
Hmmm... She dressed up better,too.
On second thoughts,I like the other kurta.
Actually,she looks god damn hot.
God she's sexy.
Shut up Abhirup,and fucking talk to her.
I went downstairs,escaped the questioning looks of my friends, who later carried on with beer and partying. Men are like that, it's okay.
I confidently walked her way. She looked at me,and I immediately took a left turn to the bar.
Screw it. Maybe next week.
I said to myself, I was panting. No clue why. I ordered for a drink,and sat there with my head low.
I thought to myself.
"Trying to say hello to me for a while?"
I turned. Holy fuck.
Meek laugh. "I..uh not exactly. Yeah,I saw you around.."
"And kept staring? I'm sorry is that how you behave usually,with girls?"
She was smiling at me. Her eyes,teasing.
I laughed. "No,not at all. And that's exactly why I can't figure why am I doing so with you"
"Do all boys throw the same rotten liners to every single girl?"
"NO! You got me wrong,I'm not trying to-"
"Flirt? Naah,you're to nervous to do that!"
I smiled,and frowned.
"I see you've put in extra efforts with your apparels today."
It wasn't a question. She made a statement.
I looked at her dumbfound. "Excuse me!? We've met 5 minutes,and you say I've dressed better to impress you!?"
"I never said that,but you're not wrong anyway." she smiled.
"Uh,listen..uh...err..?...whatever your name is?--" my defensive mode on,
"Pratigya. And hey,just accept it, it's okay"
"Why are you so over confident?"
"You're pretty dressed,yourself." I made the statement,now.
"It's my friend's birthday"
"Do all girls throw the same rotten liners to every single guy?" I smiled a tease at her own words.
"Want to try the birthday cake to sober your suspicions?"
"Uh, okay. Never mind." I surrendered.
"Isn't this the part where usually men ask for the girl's number?"
"Have you read a book on what men do?"
"I like your Witt"
"You're not bad yourself."
"So....see you around"
"Wait! What's your number?"
"Not so fast." She winked,and went to her friends.
I turned around,looking forward to the next weekend.
Weekends passed,months did,years came around,and we stood,3 years after the first time we met.
Back at the collage fest.
She came,ruffled my hair and said "Whatsup hottie?"
My friends whistled.
Gah. Spineless men,each one of them.
"Nuh..nothing much. What are you doing he..here? Weren't you going to miss tod..ay's fest?"
"Abhirup,are you drunk?"
My friends laughed. She shot them a look.
I giggled. "A little bit,baby. But that's okay. I'm good. How was collage?"
"Yeah man,you're so okay that you think we have a collage day on a colaborative fest day. You sure are fine."
"Hey...relax. I'm just a little high,why the fuss?"
"The fuss because you're not doing quite well health wise lately,are you Mr.Dutt?"
"Okay,Pratigya. Really, stop it. Just chill on it. I'm cool."
"He's cooooooooooool....." mocked my drunk friends.
"You're cool. I'm not. Let's get home."
"Wtf is wrong with you Pratigya?! I'm freaking in collage okay? Getting drunk is no big shit. Just cut me some slack man. Really."
My friends cheered. I started laughing with them. I saw her eyes, they were hurt.
"It's big shit cause you were in the hospital 15 days back with your single mother crying sick,you asshole"
I sounded dangerous to my own ears.
"I will. Okay,I godamn will. You drink when you're fine with your fucking heart,I'm fine. But you will not attend a collage fest in this state of health with alcohol screwing you up. Abhi,let's get home.Now."
"Abhiiiii....your heaarrrttt!!!!!...teraa dilll!!!" laughed my friends.
"Obviously your pals don't quite give a shit to the hospital bills your mother had to pay, about the fact that you escaped a cardiac arrest,and that your father isn't here anymore to support a family and it's just you."
"Oh fuck Pratigya,just GET LOST. I'm SICK AND TIRED of your godamn problems. You have issues okay!? I mean,you,the intellectual sorts! Wear a bloody kurta and talk about dreams and life that isn't reality! Have you ever tried coming back down to Earth?! My house,my problems,can you just bloody let ME handle all that mess?! Can you just leave me alone at times?! Can you just fucking go and promise me to let me BE ALONE?"
She looked at me.
She turned around,and walked straight. Her pink patiala slowly vanishing into the crowd of students dancing and laughing around, promising me to never come back again.
She was right. I was wrong.
She was the one who was on Earth and knew my health conditions,and warned me practically about them.
I was the one in dreams,never caring to get back on Earth.
I did,too. But was provoked to destroy her's in regard to the alcohol that consumed me,and my friends who used me.
Alcohol did me apart from a girl I wished to marry. From a girl who truly felt for me. From a girl who loved me. From a girl,I loved.
I could recognize that pink flowing patiala anywhere, the navy blue kurti, complimenting that slender structure.The bounce in her walk, the way that shoulder length long hair flew...
And I heard her voice.
And I walked right towards her,with no left turns or about turns whatsoever. She was mine,to have.
What a lady.
She was my lady.