Life will never be the same, as if it had been so, till now. I floated, amused by this thought. It was a roller coaster ride for me and I could not have wished for anything better than this, this very moment, sitting in the balcony with him. He sipped from his glass and I swam in the pleasant sight of his chiselled cheek bones and physique, nothing short of being tall, dark and handsome.
I had found true love and believed to have seen him reciprocating my feelings. The more I thought of it, the more I found myself thanking for the one and the only best thing that had happened to me – that sunny day when I saw him. I was at loss for words and senses.
It was not, mind my words, definitely not, when I stress to express the best efforts I put in, to seek his attention amongst many who were, I am sure, unequivocally fighting for the same cause and effect. But I was the gifted one in the lot with ‘histrionics’, as was chosen to qualify my demeanour, developed by the social environment where I had been born and brought up. The other inhabitants were nowhere close to me.
I was the ‘Chosen One’.
I wondered at the days and nights that had passed till this blissful moment spent gazing at him. Most certainly I had no clue about the clock and I realised that there seemed to be no place for any kind of spoken words between us as he seemed to be reading my mind, culminating into the desired actions. And now when I wanted to make a conversation, words failed me miserably. I was just about managing to Sigh! Phew! Yawn!, occasionally biting my teeth and scratching my head in misery, only to be washed away by his smile.
“Hi! Sweetie!!” someone called. We had a visitor.
He ran to the lady at the door, embracing her for a moment too long, so I thought. “Ah!” the visitor threw me a glance. “So, is this Mili?”, came the query, quickly followed by “My oh! My. She is quite impressive to easily pass off as a princess”, the visitor quipped.
I took it well, as a compliment for someone hailing from literally a no man’s land. But I definitely looked no less than a princess, clad in a snow white collared coat carrying the label ‘This was his choice and so had to be the best’. My man smiled and in line with the social etiquette that I had picked up in my new home, I was quick to extend a hand to the visitor. Leena, as she was known, mumbled and fumbled “It’s ok!” and went Pssst... Pssst.... Psssst... in my man’ ears.
The night was resplendent humbled by the aura of the full moon that chose to shine alongwith him.
“I was wondering” he began “if we could give you a makeover.”
I did not quite understand him till he excused himself to rumble the drawers to retrieve something with which I had a close shave in the past.
“Leena suggested...”, he began.
I groaned at its sight and he understood that I wasn’t happy undergoing the process, though doing so, would have helped to bridge the gap between me and his world. He stroked my hand and then my head, twisting and curling, making amusing patterns with the hair. The uniform bunches stuck to my skin, in return, enjoyed the ruffling of his fingers, enough to cajole him to put that thing away.
But it refused to let me be in peace with myself. It assumed a monstrous proportion as I began to view it as a seductress. My fear seemed to be coming true. He was hardly at home, away before my sunrise and rarely returning before I slumped into the bed for the day. Each time I persuaded myself to brush aside my apprehensions, I found myself trying to connect the dots scattered around that thing and his mysterious disappearances in the backdrop of Leena’s whispering that blared loudly in my head, until that fateful night of the party.
He declared his wedding with Leena.
Alas! I wished I had opted for my hair removal with that thing. She would not have then dared to address me as “a sweet little monkey” in the party. Princess, indeed!
I decided to return to my elements. Life will never be the same, as if it had been so, till now.