Sunday, June 30, 2013

The perfect date--"A brief encounter"

River Thames, London

Some stories you don’t write. You share it on a cold winter evening over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine with the closest friend to analyze and call that moment back.
I have thus suppressed myself from long in the fear of getting caught, in the doubt of being judged and in the confusion of not being able to estimate the consequences when a personal bit of your life goes out public in the world. 

But hell, I don’t care. I do want to include this chapter in my life’s travelogue. 

It was a winter evening in London. That usual grey, silence in the air and people moving around with their overcoats wrapped around them under the yellow lights that dissolve in the fog. It was a Saturday. A Saturday with a date. Precisely, a Saturday with the first date with this man.

When he reached, he was dressed elegantly in a long black over-coat, a bit ashamed for not making it dot on time. In such an anticipated moment, I don’t mind a five-ten minute delay, you see. Gives me a bit of time to arrange my hair gone back to its normal wild form, flatten the crease from the rough journey and get tuned to the tender phase about to come. 

We then decided on a drink first. Though it was cold, we agreed on an outdoor space and made it to a bar with a terrace having the romantic view of Saint Pauls. And then a glass of wine, blue rays from the Cathedral, and the cold breeze from over the river Thames mixed our first phase of knowing each other. A bit shy I was, and to hide that I went loud at times, too talkative at some moments, too silent at the other, too casual in some, too formal again to make up for that. It was all mixed on my part… a continuous attempt to put myself in the right slot of vibes I was receiving from the other.

On the other hand, he was so comfortable, organized and planned. I could feel he was constantly observing and deeply trying to make sense of whatever I uttered. And that made me go more and more in chaos. 

The reason I wanted to document this evening is because it was unlike what I have experienced ever. It somehow brought out all those qualities in me I was unaware of or was aware of so far.

He was so much in control over the situation that I had difficulties squeezing myself to figure out the structure. I banged over some walls and stupidly staggered, I found ways through some and ran like a school-girl and he sat there and observed. He had the pair of eyes you can not dodge. Those that hardly blink, or even if it does, it is so much steady you hardly even feel that gap. 

When its on you, you are on a stage to perform, with the spotlights turned on over your head that gets hotter and hotter with time and makes you perspire. You forget your lines, wait impatiently for the clap and constantly try to read from your audience’s gesture whether you are performing it right.

You must be thinking what a rude man. But here is the twist of all. He too spoke and equally involved in the conversation with the politest and polished manner. And from all the sentences he spoke, I too tried to judge and make a guess of the person he was. 
However, it wasn’t easy at all. His expression, his sentences, his gesture were all so controlled and organized, nothing leaked out or oozed out to reveal the odour.
It kept me engaged and challenged and power-hungry as I kept diminishing from behaving like a teenager to a school-girl.
The wine as it reacted with that special-evening-flavor started its work in getting more magic in the air. We left for a walk. 

Sometimes I wonder, how long that bridge really was that gave us that everlasting stroll. And is everyone sure, that Paris is the most romantic place on Earth? What is in that Eiffel Tower? This Millennium Bridge here stretched to a million years within that evening of mine. We stopped in between to talk, gazed at the river and the lights shimmering with its dreamy reflection on the water. The boats, the people, the distant music from the street musician...everything gradually disappeared or froze in time leaving us to stand there and watch.

By this phase, I had gained a little control, gathered myself better and figured out some pattern in this rigid, ornamented yet unreachable castle-door in front. We had a disagreement over a topic with which a little of his polished glass façade chipped off. I could get a glimpse of the person for a fraction of a second and quickly he again pulled off. 

We then headed for the third phase--the dinner. Delicious thai food served on the table was the only thing that could paint that evening with that perfect colour. And it was here he decided to take off his iron armour. He kept his sword aside, shield lowered and uttered in a soft voice, “You are so nice. This world is tough. How do you manage to survive here?” As I prepared to answer the warrior, I could now see the bruises in his bare skin and clotted blood from the battles he had fought. His fixed eyes, organized rows of brick-walls started dissolving and losing its firmness and went off guard. “I am a very emotional person. And it has done me no good, Aparajita.” He lowered his eyes in pain and I spotted a person as pure as the rain drops, scared like a little child, afraid to leave his guarded fort in the fear of unknown attack.
Those sentences were simple and yet entered my ears like a piece of music that kept floating in the air for long. It repeated itself again and again and became a part of the wall in that restaurant and remained inscribed and imprinted there.  
That ice-cold person now melted and girgled around like a child. The eyes so fixed now turned into a pair of vulnerable, innocent ones so quick to anger, so quick to laughter, so quick to raise its voice in disagreement and the next moment lower itself in remorse and then humbly whisper. 
After we finished our dinner when we walked together towards the station, I felt I know this person so much within an evening’s time. I have seen different seasons in that same planet, got scorched in the summer sun, danced together in the rain…caught the leaves in autumn, and shared our stories in the winter.
A magical evening that stretched an entire year!


krunal varshikar said...

I often wonder why some people are too sweet, kind, caring and compassionate and never show signs of frustration despite being in the most terrible situations. Its perhaps an after effect of a storm which washed them in and out. I dont know if having gaurds ON all the time is good or bad. Yet there are some creatures like you who enter any situation without any shields, without any prejudices and without any secrets. Somehow your purity never needs a tetrapack to stay fresh, its so much that it just goes on overflowing from all your pores without any end.

tina ghazimorad said...

Appa, finally you wrote about it, it's great, it's amazing that you did it. You perfectly described it. I just loved it.

tina ghazimorad said...
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Simpliti Technology said...