A blue eyed girl in a blue salwar
A blooming flower in a blue metro car
A blueberry bird flying afar
A blue hued love beneath the star
He would have
loved to call it his fist date with her. Having known her for many years since
school, he had started talking just weeks before. He had been stunned by the
pace at which they grew close. A replica of himself, he had missed knowing for
years. He reached her office a few minutes late. It didn’t matter as the delay
was mutual, just like many other stuff. They had planned to both wear blue.
He mentally
swooned as he caught sight of her exiting her workplace. Drop dead gorgeous
seemed lacking as English didn’t have the adjectives to describe her. Time
stopped, as did his eyes. They were awestruck and stuck on her face, drinking
in her beauty.
Chennai’s
traffic meant they went by the Metro and not his bike. He was glad as he just
wanted to keep looking at her. Metro was also the fastest way to Anna Nagar
from Ashok Nagar. Anna Nagar is a heaven for foodies and couples. So, the bike
was laid to rest in the parking as the train whooshed into the station.
Memories hit
hard, harder than trains probably. He was controlling his tears.
An Italian
restaurant in Anna Nagar was the destination. The foodie he was, he couldn’t
understand how she could eat so less. The ice cream was less of a disaster as
she ate more. As she gracefully ate a spoon of ice cream, he couldn’t help
staring open mouthed. He was melting faster than the butterscotch on her lips.
Food apart, he couldn’t figure out what was
going on in her mind. Was it a date? Was he acting stupid? Desperate idiot
seemed more apt to him. He decided that it would be the worst idea to kiss her
and tell her that she was the most beautiful woman he had set his eyes on. Holding
her hands was bliss and he still didn’t know if it was a date.
It was a bad
idea, he thought. He wanted to know, he knew. He blurted out after
contemplating for long. “Do you think this is our first date?” Silence.
He knew he had
screwed it. History was repeating. Regret for his words.
“Yes”, she
smiled. Ecstatic failed to describe his emotions. Alcohol would have never made
him so high, ever. A grin he had long lost, was slowly beginning to come afore.
A story was beginning.
Two little
people, each draped in blue, one beautiful couple, together like glue.
Deep in his
heart, he knew. It was the beginning. A beautiful story that would lead to yet
another tragic end.
