Showing posts with label The Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Story. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 08, 2010

...and neither was the milkshake...

All through the evening, you were as calm and composed as ever, something I remember mimicking. I must have tried too hard, and more than once during the short stroll from Dolcezza, our host for the peanut-butter-ice-cream fest (and thank you for that!), to the Healy Gates, did you look at me and immediately turn your face away. It now amazes me how you restrained yourself and kept continuing casual conversation before finally breaking into a huge laugh at the Darnall Hall pillars. I'll admit, I was a bit embarrassed initially, and wondered what the situation called for me to do. I was hoping you'd guide me through, but you just kept laughing.

"Oh Shrey!", and you ruffled my hair. Phew! You saw my face and ruffled my hair a bit more. Did I just blush?

- "It's a pity that the only week you're here is when our Hall's famed Café is closed."

- "Now isn't that what every hall here says?"

- "Say what you will mister, but there are many who cross the bridge just for a sip of old Darny's."

"Someday!" I said to myself. That, of course, never happened, and it was less than a year afterwards when you had that little setback when the place closed down. A few years later, a fancy 'Epicurean' restaurant with a valet service would come up, and people would move on. Most.

- "Now here's a campus map, and *this* is where you need to go. I'll see you the day after; Sleep tight soldier!"

Brief half-hug.

- "..."

- "?"

- "Thank you!"

- "hmm... I'd rather not ask what for. Accepted. Thank you too!"
...
  "There! Now we're done for a lifetime. No more thanking, ever."

Smile! Goodbye...




I knew I had a sleepless night to look forward to, as did you I suppose. As did you know, I mean. Every small soundbite, every little detail, every little strand of red hair that fell over your eye... every bit recounted, recapped.

As dawn broke, I realised my folly (not that I had had a choice to make), and hoped to get through the registration in time. Being pretty much the first person to register, I had a key to my new room in minutes. Now it was just a leisurely wait for the others. And wondering when we'd be meeting next.

Our Honduran friend was the first of the three to arrive, and like all good international roommates, our first hour went appreciating each others' passports, visas, and memorising the choicest of expressions for proposing love and damnation in each others' tongues. And the unlikely coincidence that the two of us shared our birthday, only that:

- "Dude! It says 1989! You're like... FIFTEEN!"
- "Yup! Exactly three years after you came in. I mean out."
- "Holy Fucking Hay-soos!!! FIFTEEN!?!"

Oh damn it! I didn't even know your birthday! I didn't even know your age! I couldn't even guess!!

I usually made sure it crept in during my first conversations with people, but that conversation already had way too many firsts for me. How easy life would become after social networking would arrive. As for now, I'll just ensure I slip-it-in the next time...

Next to arrive was the tall, lanky fellow from the States, and for once in life (as of then), I was not the quietest one in the group. Not much later, we discovered we had a Biblical scholar amongst us, and half an hour of an intense conversation later, I knew we had many a memorable conversations to go.

Finally, he arrived. I was in the loo. All I heard were murmurs, followed by "FIFTEEN!?!"


Peace...

Friday, November 26, 2010

The double-double that wasn't

    "Well, they aren't the most useful creatures around."
That surprised me. I wouldn't say shocked, especially given the nature of our preceding conversations, but I was expecting (hoping) you'd be in agreement with me on that one.
    - "Define useful."
    - "They don't really do much. Lay around, eat, sleep. Cute, yeah! But useful?"
    - "As opposed to dogs who'll fetch twigs, bark noisily, lick and feed on a steady diet of turds."
    - "You mean cats don't slobber?"
    - "They do, but are courteous enough to spread it discretely all over themselves, where it vanishes, except for adding that subtle gloss..."
    - "Look at you go there again! I meant useful work. Dogs guard, sniff bombs, lead the blind, retrieve, and where I came from..."
    - "You mean come from!"
Cutting you off without losing a moment, it was around a quarter of a second before I noticed your right eyebrow rise up, and the tiniest fold develop above your other eyelid. It was within the next second by four that I realised what that meant, and wiped that smug wise ass smile off me in a hurry.
    - "Oh! Sorry! You meant.." Difficult following up such an action packed semi-second.
    - "Yes keener boy, where I came from; I am not a natural. Forgot that already, eh?"
Sorry! No more Grammar Nazism.
    - "So, where I came from, dogs hauled around luggage, you know, supplies, postal bags and all."
    - "hmm... Extrapolating the route your train of thought is chugging along, the next station has to be you telling me why one should be a cow-person."
    - "I just meant dogs are more active, mankind's best friend, if you will..."
    - "'Mankind's'. You sound like a perfect left winger, and yet you..."
    - "Hey! Hey! It's called libertarian!"
    - "Ok.. I mean when I think of dogs, what comes to mind is an emotionally insecure person with a need for constant, interminable, unremitting, unconditional affection; not exactly the most Li-ber-tay-rian type around.. hard to imagine someone like that rolling a joint, really..."
Oops! Had I said too much? You just had your eyebrows raised, and the most perfect poker face I had seen on you. Double oops! I just saw you see me seeing you intently; too late for a poker face now!
    - "Go on..."
    - "Uh! Yeah.. So, cats don't make good slaves, don't wag their tails, and don't slobber you with affection. And the closest they come to sports is when someone makes racquet strings out of one. They're just so placid. Self-contained. They do what they want. Don't listen to you. Moody. Expect you to cater to them. Persuasive, but with dignity. Walk away if you still don't give in. Wish to be alone when you feel like playing with them. Drive you nuts. And yet, they make us fawn over them..."
This time, I turn my gaze from the moon towards you, casually. Yes, just revving in the collect-your-thoughts pause. Not watching you. And... there you go. Saw me see you. Again. Why do I even try?
    - "You think I'd make a good cat?"
    - "I think you would. Not a great cat though, but still, a very good cat."
    - "hmm... You're not doing too bad yourself!"
Huge smile. Won't hide it.
    - "It's almost time; They won't let us back in after another hour. What do you propose?"
    - "A coffee would do well."
    - "So it is then, two double doubles!"
    - "!?!"
    - "Oh! No double doubles here, my bad! hmm... I know just the place. Let's get something that gies well with the java... why're you looking at me like that?"
I was expecting you to follow up with something of an if-you-know-what-I-mean... perhaps a double double wasn't what I supposed it was. Best not to ask you now. Mental note: urban dictionary, first thing when I get back. Minutes later,
    - "So what do you call yours? Figaro, Tom, Pixie..."
    - "I don't have a cat, if that's what you meant."
    - "You don't?"
    - "My folks uprooted a touch-me-not plant I had been tending to since years, you know, the one that folds in when you touch it. Supposed to be inauspicious. Wouldn't count on them getting a cat. But there are several in the neighbourhood whom I spend time around."
You squealed with joy as your eyes stopped somewhere on the menu. But I had noticed the dimples getting deeper as we had stepped in, the smile leaking away even before you picked up the catalogue, and the impatient delay trying to stop the flood gates from gushing out before you read the name in your mind. You knew what we were having all along, but the experience just seemed incomplete without this "à la carte" ritual.
    - "They seem a bit selfish though. After a few weeks, you'd think they love you. And then they'll go away. Won't recognise you if they saw you."
    - "I think it's usually us who go away. They're not heartless. They probably just move on. They must be great actors. Punishing us with their indifference. And yet also, redeeming us, of our guilt, by appearing heartless."
Wow! It WAS good, the best ice-cream, ever. You agree, but still seem to lament the double double from the corner of your eye. Someday!
    - "They don't carry luggage though."
    - "Nope. Just baggage."
Peace...