(Series) Chapter 4: I think I am in love, I just think too much!
I watched
her walk away, and my mouth was left wide open. It’s great that she wasn’t
looking or she could see a helpless puppy standing there with his wiggling tail
wanting some affection. I wanted to say a thousand words but my mouth was on
strike. If she turns around once, she loves me, but she
didn’t. Cause things like these only happen in movies, damn the movies
filling my head with stupid notions of love. It was getting a bit
chilly, so I got back in my car and watched till the lights of her flat turned
on. I guess, I was waiting for her to look out the window, see me sitting there
waiting for her. Then suddenly realise how much she loves me and shouts I love
you. Nevertheless, that didn’t happen either. In the end I was left confused,
sad and little turned on after the events that unfolded.
The drive
home was a pain, and I was sleepy. Nevertheless, my weary brain was
repeating that kiss again and again and again . . . On each roundabout, I
wanted to turn back and go ask her what all that meant. However, I kept
moving on. As I fixated on that event, I pushed the accelerator paddle even
harder, the thoughts in my head were matching the speed in which I was driving.
It was a long drive, but the thing is, I love long drives. There is something
magical when you are alone in the car driving on the road. It’s you, your car
and the long way which you have to cross to an end, and on the long path you
have wide array of thoughts to keep yourself busy. These thoughts never seem to
leave me, I would think of all the things which I could have done differently,
said differently, but right now Pooja was the only thing on my mind.
I began
to wonder, was I in love,
but then my thoughts had to take a backseat
as I found that I had lost the keys to my apartment. I had two options. Either
I could sleep in my car and get a lock smith in the morning or I could go back
to Pooja’s place and crash for the night there. I had already made my
mind.
I called
her up and explained the situation. I think she took pity on me as I was
standing outside her place in matter of fifteen minutes. I rang the bell,
standing there all excited. She opened the door slightly; maybe she was
reconsidering her decision, but then she invited me in. I looked at her, with
her hair opened and a black frame glasses on her eyes, she looked adorable, I
didn’t take my eyes of her face.
I
entered, and it was a place a thousand times better than mine. It was warm,
arranged and had a particular scent which reminisced of what I tasted when I
kissed her. I felt glad to lose my keys. She went into the kitchen as I found
myself settling onto the couch. I looked around, impressed with
the interior of the place; I was ready to move in such a peaceful and a
soothing place. She reappeared with two mugs. She sat next to me, and though
the couch was made for two, and my enormous size took three fourth of it. She
still managed to maintain some space between us. She sat there with her legs
up, making her seem ever smaller than she was. She sipped her coffee and I just
kept looking at her and I couldn’t help myself to appreciate her gesture, not
to mention, coffee was great. The thought, which sprang in my head earlier,
came again. However, this time I had the person sitting right there in front of
me, taking small sips of the coffee she made.
I wanted
to talk, but I didn’t know how to start. What about the kiss we had,
how was it. I wish I had the courage to say that, but I just sat there
wasting time. She then gave me a pillow and a sheet for me to sleep, as though
I was going to sleep knowing she was just a door away. I said goodnight and she
went inside. It was kind of anticlimactic for me. Here I was imagining
myself talking to her all night. At some point when she would get sleepy, I
would lend her my shoulder, and she would just rest there. I would use my
fingers to put her hair behind her ears, somewhere in the dark night, I would
get that kiss again, make her fall in love with me.
So was I
in love again? Even if this wasn’t love, I was thinking of her repeatedly, and
this was giving me the feeling that I was in love. That’s the thing, when you
think of someone all the time; you just focus on all the good things, and make
yourself infatuated with that person. In my case the person who was making me
think of gushy feelings was just behind that door. I had to confront her. If
not for me all the men who haven’t had the courage to take the step and
regretted for the rest of their lives, I can do this.
I got up,
threw the coat jacket on the couch, opened few buttons of my shirt and started
to walk in. I was about faint when I reached her door, but my weak legs somehow
managed to bare my weight. I stood outside, and started taking long breaths; I
don’t know why she makes me so nervous, why beautiful people make me
nervous. I am sure she is a witch that could be the only
explanation I can think of. I am sure she was doing some black magic
behind that door, sitting with a small doll of mine and putting pointy pins
where my heart is.
I didn’t
know what I was going to say, but suddenly my hand had a mind of its own. It
automatically started knocking on the door. I looked in horror as my hand
turned the knob to open the door. Now I am sure, she is a witch, she is
making me do all this. I was shaking in my shoes as I entered.
The room
had the lights on. The bed was in the middle with two lamps on each side,
a window which was closed on the left and then there was she. Sitting there on
the bed, looking all beautiful in her small shorts with her fair legs pointing
directly at me. Calling me to touch them, feel their softness, write tales
about them. At that point I wanted to be a poet and write an epic to let people
know about how great they looked, and how it could make a man hypnotized just
by looking at them once. I am not a pervert or anything, but if a woman has
ravishing looking legs, there shall be a law against hiding them. Beauty
is meant to be admired and hiding it is a crime, which I can never forgive.
‘What
happened?’ she asked calmly.
‘Forget
me, what you are doing putting paint on your toe nails this late at night’ I
quickly responded. Like those sublime looking feet need any more colour
to look any more alluring.
‘I
couldn’t sleep’, she replied looking at me. She is happy that I am here
or is it?
I walked
forward and sat at the end of the bed, ‘let me help you with that’; I took her
feet in my hand. They were almost weightless and were fairer than inner sides
of my palms.
‘Why did
you kiss me?’ She asked with a curious voice. She is talking about the
kiss, what about the Love you I also said.
‘Because
I fell for you and that too hard’, I didn’t know what came over me but I was
telling her things like a patient telling a doctor his symptoms
Looking
back at all this, I find it hilarious. When normal people propose, they do it
kneeling down holding the girl’s hand. When I proposed, I was sitting at the
end of the bed with her feet in my hands, and I was applying black nail paint
on her toes. That’s how I roll.
We talked
throughout the night, talked just talked. I forget when I
dozed off. However, next day when I woke up, she was there on the same bed,
under the same quilt and the best part was she was facing me. The bed was not
my size, yet it felt like the most comfortable bed in the world.
I slowly
woke up. I didn’t want to. It was freezing cold outside the quilt and the best
part was, she was there inside it. She looked so warm and adorable. I
could just stay there for a lifetime, but I still got up and went to
the kitchen to make some coffee. I tried to be as quite as possible while I was
looking for the utensils. While I was boiling water, two hands came from behind
and hugged me tightly; I just closed my eyes and thanked God, for this was one
of the best moments of my life.
Next
thing you know, I wasn’t single anymore, only a thing which bugged me was, she
never told me that she loved me. Yet it hardly mattered, I was with the most
amazing girl, who was simple, beautiful, intelligent and the most caring person
I know. The answer to my question was yes. I was in love, I know, as she would
never leave my thoughts, and when someone is always there in your
consciousness, you know its love.
In the
next post, I will be taking the topic of Jealousy. Please like and
share.
Mr. Adorable Flattered, I think i am in love with ur writing, seriously its very difficult for me to wait one week for reading ur next blog...:)
ReplyDeleteAwsm!!!
And I will be trying to post twice a week. Soon. and thanks a lot.
ReplyDeleteOh dat's great arjuun...:)
ReplyDeleteR u okay?
I think u r nt in a good mood ryt now.....
No, I am in great mood, actually writing is what makes me really happy. and finishing the post is one of my greatest joys.
ReplyDeleteOkay dats gud, i actually felt lyk dat, so i asked u ......:):P
ReplyDeleteThanks for caring, but Friday's are my favourite days.
ReplyDeleteYaa I completely agree with this arjuun....
ReplyDeleteYou don't need words alone to express that you love that particular person. ..
Sometimes its just your gestures are more than enough:)
I just love the way you put your words together...
Yes Divya, we tend to over think things. making a simple concept like love so complicated.
ReplyDeleteThis story is somehow relevant to one of my very close friend...
ReplyDeletePlease share with them. Hope that person will enjoy reading it too.
ReplyDeleteThat was great, Arjuun. It's not every day one lassoes the girl of one's dreams. " I didn’t know what came over me but I was telling her things like a patient telling a doctor his symptoms." Loved that line, and so many others. Your prose has a very easy, natural flow.
ReplyDeleteThanks for such a lovely comment. I just try to improve as a writer and these wonderful comments just show how much I have progressed. Thanks a ton "Nothingprofound"
ReplyDeleteI keep going through your blog, you put some of the most amazing thoughts there. Keep it up.
ReplyDeletevery good
ReplyDeleteSoon you'll be publishing an book on this love POOJA
For me it seems chapters of a book or here in Brazil chapters of the novel that you're just dying to know what will happen the next day.
In this case I am anxious to know what will happen next Friday
Thanks Cristina, I am trying my best to live up to the expectations all my readers. They are very special to me and don't worry, this soap opera will continue.
ReplyDelete