Just another evening, just another meeting, I thought. Excited about meeting a brand new friend, a pretty lady, focussed and cheerful. Thats all I had an idea, of the girl who would be sitting across the table at the Barista cafe. Hesitant to walk into an coffee bar with no exciting choice for my palate, and happy to get a precious stand for my dearest transport, I parked my bike and walked towards the cafe. Oh My! There I see, the Barista on St. Marks is shut, bolted and deserted. My Phone rang. And it was her. And she was waiting for me near the other Barista. Golly! I had to now hunt for that place.
I walked down to MG. As I was trotting down to the new address, I see this fair foreign chick waving at me, gleaming a big welcome smile; as the old men say “Dressed to Kill”! Shocked as I was, I did not know how to react. Suddenly I felt I was the most sought-after person in the world.
Seeing my awestruck look, there grew a blush on her face. She was pink. The words just escaped out of my lips like a pigeon uncaged… “WOW!” And my heartfelt compliments reached her ears.
I heard that same crisp voice pronouncing confidence and grace. I had no words to say. Pretty amazed as I was. …
… A whole new exciting episode began when we sat at Mc Donalds overlooking the street. Me munching on my favorite Mc Veggie and she sipping her long glass of Coca-Cola. After all, both were veggies by choice, and she had grown to hate Bread being even an option, having toured a few European nations recently. It’s so unfair, for the sworn vegetarians in Europe. Gosh! Can you believe this? The poor fish is accused of being a vegetable. They were the ones meant to swim up to their freshwater homes, weren’t they?
Now, coming back to the scenic street with vivid acts of expression scattered all over; her eyes spotted a handsome young man with hair longer than his shoulders. She commented “Why do MEN have to do this to themselves? Cant they just be well-trimmed.” For a moment I had a wierd sensation of being hit by some teeth-grinding feminist. Thankfully, the conversation proceeded to wards a painting she had on her Orkut account. And she began to explain. I would have kissed her mind for all the amazing innovation she had come up with, with mere brush strokes. My most beautiful words here, would have felt pale against the fervor her particularisation bore. However, the best I found, was her description of how she had depicted the diffeent stages of Womanhood as diferent stages of the Flower bloom. Right from the bud stage to the droop, it was an enchantment to hear. And my mind wouldn’t stop to imagine how it would look. Artistic, captivating, becharming. I could go on; then NO. Let me savor those bewitching idealogies for some more time. Let me snug them into my dreams, till I see them with open eyes.
More to go, I know. However, this can wait for now.
Good Night! Sunflower Dreams!