He casually wipes the moisture of his palms on his worn out jeans, slips his hands into its side pockets and wonders-'what now'. Considering several subjects that rush through his mind, and running a quick mental conversation rehearsal, he gulps down his throat and rolls his tongue over his dry lips. Then adjusting the specs on his nose, he collects himself all over again.
A couple of pending assignments along with below average grades in the last quarterly had been bothering him of late. But that makes little difference to him at the moment. For just this while, he doesn't quite care. Its a warm summer evening and walking along the quiet street circumscribing the university auditorium, he can now see two shadows getting longer on the road. This is the time he had been longing for- she's with him, part that counts anyway.
Its been some time now. For him, she is 'the girl'. She so very easily dominates the rest of her species and eclipses all of those who exist on this part of the earth. Its not that he's all nuts for her, or that he hasn't come across girls who 'make boys weak in the knees'. But he can sense a different recipe this time, one he's failed to comprehend thus far. He'd have a hard time admitting that the feeling is akin to 'love' for her. Past experiences have somehow made him develop a peculiar disregard for sentiments, especially this one.
"Yes, and Prof Verma makes it worse. An hour of catching up on lost sleep", she chuckled, carefully tucking the silky strand of hair that played on her soft face, behind her ears.
Today had been a different script, in some ways. Whether it was the movie till late last night, the 4 hours of head banging at back to back lectures today, the rejuvenating chai at TIC OR the spotless top, the meticulously groomed hair or this slow walk back together, he still can't understand why he feels- for lack of the perfect word- 'elated'.
"You guys always occupy the last rows, have fun and we have to take all the shit everyday from the front seats", she complained in a frequency so sweet he thought she had a musical larynx. 'What fun?', he wondered. The only reason he preferred sitting back was because proximity to her during lectures made him very uneasy, diluting every hard built 'concentration'. And then of course to have the liberty of doting at her without the fear of being caught, as a consolation, when the Professors started speaking and writing Latin.
"So, you going home?", she asked. 3 days off and an intermittent Sunday were making an extended weekend, he recalled. What is it with holidays and people rushing home, he thought, I could do with once in a semester. It was the ambiance talking. Her presence, perhaps. Life, and this place, had just started looking merrier.
"Na. I like it here in the hostel. I get bored at home, so not before Diwali break. You?", he inquired, trying to sound casual. Even before she could reply, he'd mentally prepared the itinerary for the following weekend corresponding to both the possible responses.
"Yeah, the day after. Dun's amazing... this time of the year and this place sucks, especially after 7 pm, you know... And moreover, i miss home", she replied, visibly ecstatic. He found it hard not looking at her lips when she was happy. Although her eyes were equally pretty. He checked the time- 6:46- perfectly on time at her hostel entrance.
"Lectures tomorrow right. 8?", she threw as she drifted to the gates. "Alas...", he contributed to the parting words. "Cya...", she said and smiled. She turned and her hair followed her, dancing on her back. "Bye...", he managed as she glided past ear shot. The guard at the gate heard him. He thought he saw the tired old man's forehead churn.
It took some time until his 'elation' subsided. She was all over his mind. 'Perhaps you should have gone for the mobile no', he pondered but probably that mesmerizing smile had made him helpless. 'That would've been a bit of probing', he laid an antithesis. Now, he could feel his legs weary and back stiff- the long day. Its a mile and a half to the hostel. "Rickshaa...", he yelled, without another thought, beckoning to one wandering nearby. He involuntarily popped out his cell- '2 missed calls', '3 new messages'. He pushed it back into his pocket.
'Dun's amazing, this time of the year', he revised. 'I could go meet my uncle there', he spoke to himself as he hopped on and spread himself on the vehicle.
"Patel...", he shouted, instructing the man on the paddle, but more so himself, thinking more clearly now, as the rickety 3 wheeler rode into the twilight.
The Girl - II
