This happened, or that, or this!!!

It’s our first date. I dressed up. I even bought you a bunch of lilies, the ones you like. I went an extra mile figuratively to find out your preference from your friend who doesn’t like me, and an extra mile physically because I could not find them anywhere closer. I even put some gel in my hair and carefully hid my receding hairline. I shaved again and got in my recently serviced car. Before knocking on your door, I once again looked at myself in rear view mirror, pressed my hair and checked if something was stuck in my teeth. I took a deep breath and knocked on your door. Every passing second felt like hours. And then you opened the door, clad in yellow, looking all perfect as you ever were. I didn’t think you had to go through all the trouble I had to, for looking this amazing. At the most maybe you just washed your face and got into this off the rack dress which fits you like it was custom tailored. I was so nervous around you. Dinner was usual. Table pre-booked, waiter tipped generously, no eating off other’s plate, hold the fork in left hand and all other etiquette. I parked the car few blocks before your home and walked with you. We didn’t talk. We just kissed good night.

When I was walking back, it struck me, why did I have to impress you? What was special about the night? Every guy does it. Well, maybe not every guy; every guy who has means and has a willing girl to impress. Why did this impress you? Didn’t you know it’s going to be like this? Why did you want this so much? It is not as if you would spend your entire life with a version of me that impresses you. It would mostly be routine, mundane life wherein I will eat out of a bowl most Saturday nights sitting on the couch and watching some stupid TV channel oblivious of your presence. The same presence which makes me forget everything today. The night looks so amazing today, as if there is an added fragrance to the flowers, or maybe added brightness to the moon. You are gone inside, but I kept standing there, hoping that you would come to the window. I felt your hands still holding mine and taste of your lips still lingering on. I could still hear your laughter, or the way you said my name.

What’s the point? Maybe I dressed up a little too gaudy for you. I got lilies when your friend actually said daisies; or she said lilies knowing that you like daisies. After all, she didn’t like me. I drove an extra mile to save some money. What could I have done? The vendor was overcharging me. The gel came down my forehead along with the sweat. I was nervous, I said that already. I cut myself while shaving and forgot to remove part of the tissue that I used to soak the blood. My car smelled like garlic and onions, because that’s what I sell for a living. I could not locate the leaf in my teeth because the rear view mirror was broken. Every passing second felt like hours because I had to pee so badly. There was no reason for pre booking the table at McDonalds; there was no need to tip the waiter because there wasn’t any and there was no need to use the fork either. We ran out of gas so you offered to walk. We couldn’t talk since it was raining. There is an added fragrance to flowers after rain stopped and so is the brightness more since the clouds disappeared. You never came to the window, because there wasn’t any. Your hands were sweaty, I still feel what it was like to hold them. I can still feel the taste of your lips because they tasted like the fish burger you had. Your laughter gives me nightmares and so does your inability to pronounce my name properly given that you lisp.

Why did you marry me?

You saw me standing on your door and waiting impatiently for you to open the door. You liked lilies after all. I could only get these lilies next town and you knew that I drove extra to get these for you. I was wiping my forehead and you knew I was nervous around you. Tissue on my face and leaf in my teeth, you thought it was cute that I was clumsy. You love garlic and onion smell, who could have thought? Your parent never took you to McDonalds, fearing you would never fit in that dress. You thought that I didn’t care whether you will get fat. I wanted to walk with you in the rain so I pretended that we ran out of gas. Really? Oh my girl, you are so sweet and innocent. You saw me standing there in front of your door hoping that there was a window you would see me from. You saw me looking at my hands feeling your touch. You saw me lick my lips and thought I liked taste of yours.

God is so kind. 

A yellow house, a thing that dropped out of the sky and a thing of beauty...

‘How do you write a story? I mean how you come up with all these ideas?’ she asked me. This was something I had never asked myself. I never had to. Not trying to boast, but after writing the first line, the story just oozes out of me. It is the first line which is difficult to imagine. She did not believe me when I told her this.  So she offered to suggest the first line of the story. I was more than willing to oblige.
 

‘It was a cold dark night’ she said. ‘Really? You wish to make it that simple for me? C’mon try again.’ I suggested. She thought for a minute and came back with ‘The house was yellow’- nothing more. I had the first line. Now it was upto me. My story followed like this:

“The house was yellow. Or it must have been yellow at some point in time. Now there is only a hint of bright yellow hues it once may have sported. She had said that it was the most beautiful house on the street. I jokingly said that she must also be the most beautiful girl on that street. She blushed. We had met at a marriage. I roamed around her for three days before she agreed to meet me alone. We talked about ourselves and each another. We laughed at silly jokes and shared our idea of  the future. Suddenly we could see a future together. I promised to come to her home soon and ask for her hand in marriage. She said I should not make promises which I may not be able to keep. I could not understand her doubt. Men have a tendency of having very high confidence on their abilities for as long as they live off their parents. She had to leave. She dropped a chit with  her address  and I picked it up”

‘This is not a very good story. I can already guess the ending. The guy will not be able to marry the girl and will visit her house after 20-30 years in the hope of  meeting her.  Let me give you another line’ She interrupted. ‘Try me’ I said. She wanted to give a really weird one this time and she did. ‘It just dropped out of sky’. I could not lose face after having made such tall claims. Here was the story I knitted :

“It just dropped out of sky. The question. They were shocked. How can I even think about getting married before I got a job? Men at this age do not think very far in future. I had received a letter from a girl I met in a marriage and who I loved like crazy now. We had been exchanging letters since then. She could not wait any longer. I was to visit her home and ask for her hand in marriage. I had to decide quickly. There was no other way. That night I stole cash from my father’s safe. I had sent her a letter mentioning that she should meet me at  the railway station from where we will run away into a world far from here. For opening one’s eyes fully, one must first take a punch on one’s nose. And I took a couple. She was watching from a distance while her goons beat the hell out of me and snatched the cash. All this while, I did not blink even once. I kept looking into her eyes - those deceiving, devious eyes. I wanted to remember those eyes for my life.

 

My brothers had lodged a complaint against me with police. I spent next two years in jail, never forgetting her eyes for a single moment. It gave me strength to go on.”

 

‘Okay I am impressed. But for my satisfaction, complete the story with this first line – ‘a thing of beauty is a joy forever’. She was getting adventurous with her lines. To write a standalone story with a single line is one thing, but to join two completely different things and come up with one outcome is another. Well, I could only try!

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Apparently the sentence was only half true as far as I was concerned. No matter how much I tried, I could not recall those beautiful eyes I fell in love with, only the deceitful version of them. After coming out of jail I had nowhere to go to. No future to look forward to. There was only a resolution – revenge. Life took dramatic turns and I took all kind of ways to earn money and I did.  It was my chance to take revenge. So here I was looking at the yellow house. The house which was yellow once. I kept waiting till she came out in her balcony. She looked at me. I tried to summon my anger, my reflection of her deceptive, devious and deceitful eyes. Then I turned back and started walking, with a new image, a memory which I had cherished for long ever since I met her. Those beautiful black eyes - a thing of beauty is a joy forever”

My story was finished. She could not speak for a minute - maybe a little too spellbound. She was mesmerised with the narration. While she closed her eyes to think of another line, my hand reached into my pockets and produced a chit with an address. It was time to let go of it.