An evening like today's may never happen again. There are dark lines of black against a sad grey sky. And there are quietened noises. I chose to write today, now.

I am not a social. I can't be one. So sitting in a quiet corner I observe. I have no qualms.

I saw a girl. She looked partly insane. It was in the lounge of the parlour, we were waiting for our turns. At times I was glad I had to wait. She was fair, you know. And plump. Plump must be an euphemism for fat. She was lost inside her violet salwar kameez. Yes, it was too big for her. She had clutched her hair at the back. Anyway, she hardly had any hair. She wore huge earrings. They were made of glass and were purple too. She wore glasses. Not thick, not thin, just glasses. Under those glasses were her eyes, of course. Her eyes had a squint. The parlour people made her wait for a long time. That, my dear, was unfair, because she could have been called in much earlier. But all the time she sat there, the squint made me feel that she had been looking at one point. Far away, may be. This together with a few other things, made her look insane to me. Insane, as in out of the herd. Later when she was called inside and the parlour girl loosened her hair, it finished a lot above her waist. Each strand had a different length. Pathetically uneven, I could make out. The parlour girl asked her if she had tried cutting her hair by herself, you know, going all crazy. For a moment I imagined her doing that. Sitting infront of the mirror, gayly chatting away with herself, her hair on her shoulders, and she cutting it all out with scissors in her hands. Her sciccors moving as fast as the words falling out of her mouth. But now the partly insane girl couldn't hear her, at all. The parlour girl repeated. The insane girl gave her a very puzzled, harmless look, with the squint intact. She looked and half-smiled. The scene froze there.

Then somedays later, I saw a guy. He wasn't tall. Not short either. Thin, yes may be. He had a very deep set voice, you know. When he spoke, I felt like he was speaking out of his stomach. The voice was grave, I wondered what vibrations it caused at his throat when it passed through it, from his stomach, out to us. His hair was nice. It looked like a mushroom. If a mushroom is ugly, okay then, his hair looked like a nice mushroom. He wore glasses too. They were square cut for him. His eyes under his glasses always had a hint of joy. His lips were always moulded into a smile. You know, that was the set expression on his face. He smiled and laughed like those were the only things he knew. When he did so, his mushroom hair shook a little,bounced a little. His happiness made me believe that nothing in the world could make him feel otherwise. And that made him look very powerful.And for that I envied him. Chapter closed. Hahaha.

Ithinkyoushouldforgivemeformycrazywritingbutthenithinktheblogshouldreflecttherealperson I AM.


d gypsy! said...

believe me, it is such writings of urs, this perspective which literally makes me 'one' fan of urs...

i loved this one to its soul... speaks a lot to me, even if its just a crazy writing for u...

Hopeless Romantic said...

I must say you have a very sharp observation power, beautiful description of the people you encountered. Keep penning!

Cya around, have blogrolled you for some time!

PS: one month back, i read your whole blog one Sunday afternoon!


CRD said...

there are some people in this huge melee called "humanity" who silently suffer. They become fodder for people who need something to laff at.

Thanx for sparing a thought for them


wildflower said...

@ gypsy
:) thank you

@ hopeless romantic
i had a friend who had read my blog one entire weekend and on Sunday confessed that he had fallen in love :) that made me ecstatic..

i l njoy being blogrolled by you for nomatter how long or short a time it is..thankyou

you're the purpose of me replying to these comments so soon... I very much belong to those 'somepeople' and that is what makes me blog so relentlessly. i dont know if the world laughs at such people but i definitely had no such intentions. the boy and the girl had made me wonder a lot and that's why i chose to write about them.. :D no offence meant

CRD said...

offence? :P

i Said it was gracious of you to write abt the plight of sufferers instead of the others who jus laff at them

Keep replying :P..and blogging of course

aur humaare yahaan bhi aaiye kabhi..its mostly me visiting ur blog :P


Hopeless Romantic said...

Till you keep writing, i would keep coming and the association would be for a lifetime hopefully !