Skip to main content

How do I look...?

“How am I looking?” were the words which came out of her mouth after a long silent walk. Tying her hairs, she asked him to hold her phone and clutch…

The question was less of the inquiry and was more in the fury that why the answer was delay – delayed not after she had asked but why is the compliment never came till now…

Question arose within her whether how she really looked good…? With a bit of confusion over her own looks and attire which was now evaporating into the clouds of anger…

Looking into every possible glass which reflected her… where she looked at her herself but peeked at him through it…

She was waiting, still for the reply, has he forgotten, she had asked something…? Has he even looked at her…? What exactly she was wearing…? What wrong with saying that you looked beautiful… such a fool…

People walking in the opposite direction dint missed a chance to check her out, boys where fine… but even girls…! Had a look of contempt, with jealousy which she knew well… which boasted her confidence… and in her mind rang a beautiful melody…

Then she decided to at least show him… to bring his attention to her…

It was then she started bringing up the stories related to everything that she had worn to what she had applied… to how her hairs were done… in the morning and how they ended up the way they are now…

Now, her concern for him was taken up by anger… where those small steps with caution have now turned into “just walking away” kind of notion…

Her lip tight mouth, and her eyes which looked everywhere else but at him and her ears listening to him… still not wanting to listen anything…

The conversation become strange, now, to his tones of words she had a single word, as answer… sometimes just a sound… she wondered that how he can speak so much but not what she wanted to listen… why…?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Real Idol...

Among the darkest of the night, a land of one country will be brightest among other on the earth… no trace of moon… even this night belongs to the decedent of the sun… The lights, sweet, the songs, the music, the dance and the crackers are not for the lord, they are not even for a king, rather they are for a man… A man that of a character and a man of his words… From everything happens for a reason and that reason which we never see what to talk about learning from it… To understand this reason, we first have to understand what is the problem? The problem is God, the reaction, response and prejudice or the individual definition that we hold for this word… The moment we hear it, either we close our eyes and join our hands… or we are being scared of being roasted in the hell… or we want a ticket to heaven… but have we ever thought of what actually the meaning of God is… We travel so and so kilometers… to go to a temple… with flower, sweets and whatever we think can make our w...
1 comment
Read more

To My Valantine....

  If I could love you again, I would surely love you right… holding you tight after each fight…. Loosing you have made me realize that to my sky you were the only light… I am doing fine… learning, trying to walk along the straight line… I wish I could go back in the time and to make you wait and to make you mine… I could play my every single dime… I still remember the day when I first saw you… bright like the morning sunshine… our eyes locked, and everything was lost… at least even for that one moment it felt that you were mine… The days have melted into weeks and the weeks evaporated and formed the clouds of years… all what I hold is the same fear… we are not together as such… will we ever be “us.” No, not someone of your hue… not even someone like you… but even today in my every prayer I only ask for you… Not the one who finds me sweet… not the one who finds me cute. Not the one for whom I am good looking. Not the one who are only there for hooking up… but the one with ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Who Killed An Actress...?

“Have a seat, the manager will be joining you in a minute.” A well trained, beautifully groomed, yet perfectly fake HR told her. The word manager, had accelerated her heartbeat… it felt more like “a Murderer.” She entered the conference room… it was as chill as the meat section of a supermarket… The manager came near the door, carrying a laptop computer in one hand and a holding his mobile phone in the other hand talking to someone. Her hands left the trace of sweat on the lemon green table. Pushing the glass door with his hips, the manager entered the room. She skipped her breath till the time he settled down… “Ten years I have been working in this company and four years as a manager never in my life I have come across an employee like you…” the manager said. “I feel shame for you” she thought. She was looking at her fingers while the manager kept on talking. The ring which her mother had asked her to wear… why? Because some pandit said “isse kaam mai man lagaege.” How her...
Post a Comment
Read more