In the Land of Women

Waiting alone on a Saturday afternoon, resisting to order a cappuccino right away is not the most pleasant thing to do. Worse, when one has a slightly tremulous mood to deal with. I was looking beyond the glass walls, trying to catch a recognizable face in the crowd, between erratic intervals of time, wondering if she was stuck in traffic, or if she had forgotten the meeting altogether. I rummaged through my purse, fished out the cellphone, almost clicked the last dialed number which was his, to ask if he had taken the pains to remind her that I was here waiting, not ordering cappuccino. But promised myself a deadline of another five minutes and placed it on the table, waiting for it to beep or something. That's the problem, I always wait for a call, rather than making it myself, it isn't as a big a deal as I make out of it, or is it?

Meeting his sister was the first big step. Rather a leap. Getting to know her was the first tick in fulfilling the Terms & Conditions for marrying him. And we are very particular about our T&Cs. She, being the younger sibling, must have been the more pampered one. When it came to me, he was no good at pampering you know. Calling me 'sweetie' was all about it. But she was brought up like some princess, I was made to assume. So was I expected to treat her like one? I hadn't the slightest idea, as I fidgeted and watched her enter the cafe'. The many photos of her that I had seen, all those mental snapshots of hers, embedded with his dictations of her mannerisms, left me momentarily. She wasn't as tall as her brother, thank God! The walk was no less suave though.

Smiles felt more than obvious. It was supposed to be all goody-goody. Except that I was a total carnivore compared to her religiously vegan habits. And I wasn't told so, unfortunately. The man always skips intricate details, rare trait in the family considering his sister's carefully manicured nails. I began hunting for the color of her nails in her dress. We do all that, don't we? She too must have been toying around with ideas and visions, colors and emotions, and me in her mind. Now that I was stealing her brother away, or so we felt.

17 comments:

arvind said...

idea is cute..
correcting the sister in law..

t&c - r u know the meaning?
ho my god.. the story is running fast!!

sorry for the lonely afternoon - it kills..

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

hahaha... nice

We miss the intricate details, and when its someone special, we think that everyone should be knowing it already...

nice read.
:)

The Rain Crab said...

Is this for real? if yea.. all the best wild! ;):)
I always love your narration :)

Rajita said...

Cant believe this..just drafted a post 2 days back titled "A house full of women" and now I see this!
Though the premises are very different..
Real or fiction? :)

wildflower said...

BA
thnks! :D

Rain
lady..it's too good to be real! :)

Rajita
fiction of course ..! Had this been real, would I be writing still? :P

Anonymous said...

nice post...
btw,forgot to wish my favourite blogger a very happy dussehra :-)
may the year ahead bring us more n more n lotsss more of yr posts...
see,i am soooo greedy!

Soumya said...

Fiction??

U seriously had me here..

wildflower said...

Anonymous
Assuming you're the good Anonymous, thankyou :)

Soumya
LoL :D

The Sage said...

temme you will write a sequel... am waiting..

aria said...

interesting characters.. both these women :D

ani_aset said...

it was nice and cute :)

$uch! said...

when???
how??
where???
kan eta????

wildflower said...

Sage
You ne'er knw...!

aria
women are wired that way, aren't they?!

ani
thnks :)

S
Yeah, I'm getting married..had intentions to surprise yu tho..

................your's entirely said...

Again...
'Fiction is nothing but alternate reality'

Elise said...

Another great post! I missed your blog...

Surya Prakash V said...

Die ye, die
for the wildflower
fits not in wild,
like the wildlover,
not in love,
is it acme,
the flower
to plant?
Like a mind
to ye body?
Die wild,
or live groomed?

Die, ye die,
and never
be born again,
to joy or pain,
I"ll shed a tear,
nourish you,
with a pear,
and the wild stump
will live again
a memory
of a scent lost

die ye die.

Hint: the post makes me sad, for I believed in the wild, and the possibility of a flower there. And I send a messenger to profess my love, and taint it, unknowing, that the wild cannot be groomed. And beg the flower to wither, promising to nourish a memory in the stump.

But that is one layer. Dunno if it's related, but it had to be here :)

wildflower said...

..your's entirely
an alternative that never chooses me!

Elise
welcome back :) !

V
Lovely poem..& guess what! I understood it..!! :D thnks..reads beautifully