A page from a diary!

Her eyes were so addictive!

So powerful that it housed a strong magnetism to leave one astounded with the power, it holds someone in its charm. Many times, I have stolen few glances to drown myself in her presence, by giving in to my involuntary urge to look at her, which filled my cognizance with her hypnotic glances, whenever she brought herself in the vicinity, with a bag slung on her shoulders, searching for a place to settle in for a quick dine. Some instinct in me which changed my body metabolism altogether, increasing my heart rate slightly by few numbers, was a due manifestation of her proximity around me.

I’ve never gotten an opportunity to divert myself away from her mesmerizing eyes, whenever I steal a glance at her. My senses fail miserably in front of her fascinating grasp that holds me right in her eyes – just there, just precisely there in those glimmering spheres, ruthlessly clamping me there, craving for such nirvana for eternity.

Never been in my lifetime I was subjected to such enslavement with an astounding pair of eyes.

She was gifted with a monopolistic spell to captivate someone, just by looking at her eyes. Those eyes exerted so much force to weaken someone’s heart without the knowledge of the ones who are sanctified with that blessed look. I had to give in myself to such vulnerability. My senses weakened, the heart thumped faster and I was invariably tethered to them. I felt more weaker, when my eyes lost contact. The craving grew stronger when I missed her presence for a longer duration. It became a habit – an addiction for the eyes – inquisitive and ingenuous.

I was invariably falling for her, for her eyes that pushed me down – down to her feet, left me weakened in her presence. After sweeping some courage that was left in me, I decided to let her know what someone felt, ‘When you love a woman, you tell her that she’s the one, because she needs somebody, to tell her that you’ll always be together…’. So as the train came to a screeching halt, it brought my heart to a momentary halt too, and then I got up from my seat and alighted the train, to lessen my distance from her and started walking in the crowd, feeling lonely altogether, with her only company of her name driving me forward. As the distance diminished between us, from her behind, I knew my memory is slowly drifting too. All my rehearsed sentences started to fade. Sigh! Why it isn’t easy to let someone know that they are being loved? I was feeling claustrophobic even in that wide open platform where the crowd barged towards the exit. How am I going to ad-lib right in her face, being subjected to those shimmering eyes watching me with full attention?

With the pace I was walking, I sensed I wouldn’t reach her anytime. So I accelerated my pace slightly and followed her. Five seconds was all I took and I was beside her. With all my energy propelled up, I called out her name and said, ‘Hi’

A simple ‘Hi’ came out with so much aeration. Her quick turn to the right, unplugging the earphones from her slender ears and a jerk halt, assured me that I was loud enough for her to hear me.

I stared at her with my heart in full acceleration and I knew I am going to fumble. I was experiencing that moment, when you prepare for an extempore and remember each line perfectly well till when you reach the podium mic and then everything goes blank seeing the audience. She was my only audience and I was the only one who was to recite everything to perfection.

I went totally blank!

I couldn’t see her eyes. The Kajal was still intact embellishing her eyes or rather her eyes were garnishing the Kajal with its beauty and sorcery. It conveyed innumerable thoughts, she never spoke.

It was so powerful and was pointing to this stranger with full attention, who just called out her name. A full Sixty seconds of ciphered memory is all I remember and a line from in between, ‘I like you so much’ and a dim memory and then, ‘…I’m kind of mad at you’ and few seconds later, I felt as if I came back to my senses, when I was done talking. I felt tired as if all the energy that was charged has been drained out just for these sixty seconds of hazed memory. It was really so tough to propose and I did it.

She smiled; her eye lids battled to hold those inquisitive and thoughtful eyes, which have gathered some jolt from someone, who she has seen just today – may be some time back in the afternoon. But lesser did she know that she has been admired for months together.

Her bewitching smile and her casual head tilt was all enough for me to sense that she was feeling safe and not intimidated. It gave me a sense of gratification that I didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. As soon as I was ready to absorb whatever that was going to come to me, she said, ‘mmm…this is new to me…,’ with her sweetest tone and composure. After a thoughtful pause, she quoted, ‘this is not going to work out’.

Disappointment set in and I felt as if I had lost all my weapons and no lifelines. I am all by myself and she was there again with her addictive eyes, numbing out my presence of mind. What followed later was kinda soothing my senses. We were talking – talking in general – simple exchanges. It didn’t last longer. How can someone be so polite, sweet and hurting at the same time? I didn’t know what to defend. I didn’t know how to plead. I felt helpless. I wanted to be lying in her arms, her fingers caressing my hair on my forehead, drifting me to peace and calmness, whenever I was helpless but not helpless on my feet like this. I knew what started a few minutes back, came to an end so soon. And she said, ‘This won’t work out and I don’t want to give any false hopes, so we’ll see…I mean, not about this, hope you understand. See you then. Bye’ and then she walked away unceremoniously into the crowd, taking away with her, my weakened heart, probably in her bag slung on her shoulders, as how Richard Parker walked away into the jungle, onshore in ‘Life of Pi’. As she climbed up the stairs and disappeared in the crowd, I was left like a boy stranded in a festive crowd, though the whole station was brimming with noisy people swishing past to and fro.

I could hear the sound of engine approaching the platform, the Doppler Effect at its best. I know my train has come and I had to leave. I wished I could see her footsteps, at least to fill the void where my heart was previously with those footprints, which would keep me alive. The heart was still thumping, but there was no life in it. It just stayed with her, in those addictive eyes, leaving me, when she walked away.

***

I tried my best to explain, but she was never ready to listen.

But I can see the smile sometimes, when she is around me, which I know she needs me. But I sometimes just try to avoid those eyes; nevertheless I fail miserably to do it. Every second is spent in its memory, rewinding the past again and again iterating it endlessly. Her face appears in every face I see. Memories are not too volatile to be erased. She still lingers in my thoughts all the time, everywhere. None of the eyes, interest me these days. Helplessness is sowing seeds of despair and longingness. What if she too liked me? I know I wasn’t that bad for hatred. I deserved some love and she too deserved mine, unconditionally. I want to be mad on someone, live my life for them and shower all happiness in the world and undeniably she is the one.

I’m still waiting, waiting for those eyes to accept me and hold me again, to bind me with affection so that I get drowned in those eyes, not fearing of any depth and darkness, weakened by her presence. Acceptance is all required to become strong again – to shield her from all the evils in this world and not letting any tears leave those lovely possessions of mine. Hope is still lighting the wick of the candle of my life.

Hope she is mine!

***

PS: Know more about Experimental Fiction –> HERE

12 thoughts on “A page from a diary!

  1. oh!!common this is no fiction!!but if this is fiction it was an awesome narration of the emotions of a person in one side love!!awesome!!keep them coming
    -muthiah sriram

  2. Dude, I thought you were spilling our your story, till I read the last line. A very gripping plot. Still I’d like to believe this is not just fiction😀

  3. Kalyan….. M simply lost for words to tell u how brilliant this piece is🙂 fantastic work!!! Rock on!!

  4. @Whimsical: haha…true!!! But one needs immense imagination and a plot to come up with such a fiction and so experimental it is!!😀

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s