In the Mid-july

It is one of those very few pleasures that I get in this foreign country. How relishing it feels? To clamp your feet clearly on the base and stand in a metro-rail at peak hours. Imbibed to being extremely careful of not dashing any protruding things near by, I was clinging like dungston. Here comes the villain to my short-lived happiness. The next stopping should have a school near by. I really did not guess with the name of the stopping and if I’m asked to do so, I would’ve guessed a Chinese fort/temple.

Quite contrary to my national heroes, I really cannot withstand this sudden invasion by these students. Afraid of relying on my height, I stood in the median between the seats on both sides. It was a matter of extreme risk; given the sudden breaks, jolts produces by this wagon, you are most probably expected to collide with dangerous zones of either this wagon or the near by girls. I turned to fix my hip perfectly in the seat handle and was given a soft jiggle. There they are. Completely unaware of this world and indulged in one of the world’s passionate kisses. Hmm.. How to show myself that I’m not interested in these scenes? I’ve neither brought my iPod nor my much adorable OSHO book. Let me turn the other side. Ooh.. It really meant the other side for me. There lays the cute kid scuffling near his mother’s neck. He should be disturbing her for a new boot or MP3 player or who knows?, may be to arrange for a date with his girlfriend. I can easily figure out the feelings inside the kid’s heart. He should be feeling the doom of earth. My heart was beating to rush to him and hug him and shout “Look here, dude. This happened to me too. This will pass and you are to face still worse life.” Aah., the crowd recedes like the end of a heavy downpour of rain. The drizzle is still on and at the end of the rail, I find an empty seat.

As I reached that empty seat, I was in a still dilemma whether to sit in there. There were two girls and an old lady and when I was about to pacify myself that standing in a moving rail reduces your tummy, the old lady adjusted herself towards the window sill and here I get enough piece of cake. Yummy., after a tiring day at office, I was asking myself for a short nap. No. said my eyes. Why? asked my mind. Are you blind? Look in front of you. Mmm. Ya ! That’s worth than my short nap. Come-on girl, I can’t wait anymore. Lift your face and I’m eager to see something other than your golden hair. She obeyed so instantly that I doubted “Did I shout that out?”. I turned around and found that I haven’t. She smiled at me. If I had been the same guy from that small Indian town, I would’ve started thinking about a poetic love letter. I smiled back and said those few words that I knew in that foreign language. She wished me back that I should also have a good day. With a very bad record on my talks with girls, I was confident that this will stop with just these wishes. Destiny always thinks abnormally.

She gestured something above my head and I turned to check who was behind me. The turn was with such rapid that she gave out a good laugh. She then gestured the orphaned umbrella hanging at the roof. I gestured back that it is not mine. Now she shaked her head and again pointed that umbrella, then pointed to herself. O.K I got it. Is that yours? I gestured back. She nodded. I bought it for her. Now, I was really interested in her. Strange, I haven’t seen her curves yet and when I thought of having peek at, more strangely something stopped me. Confounded by this very strange behavior, I was shrinking my forehead. Only then my synapse from the eyeballs to my brain said that she is looking at me. She was looking me with a “Mr.Bean” sort of expression and raised her eyebrows which has no other meaning other than “Whhaat?”. I bought my once in a while smart smiles to my face and closed my eyes and gave a tiny head shake. In between her question and my answer, this conversation (can we call it so?) brought the memories my Dumb-charades fun at college.

I was exuberated. We continued our gestural conversation. She was asking me where I sleep. After a few milliseconds, I understood that she was asking me where I live. Well, here comes a difficult part. How should I mime Ribaucourt? My index finger pointed towards my diaphragm area and I started counting the ribs there. Then I motioned my hand which was holding an invisible wooden hammer to tap at the imaginary desk. She couldn’t figure it and this time I mimed the gestures slowly and I could sense from her eyes that she is getting it. After a few long seconds, she said “Ribaucourt”. For the first time after landing in this alien land, I found myself laughing with an equally amused companion. I then asked the same question for which she gestured “Schuman”. Quite funny it was. If she were one of my good time friends, we would’ve relished this fun when ever we meet each other. Is she really interested in my friendship? With a few known faces from this place, my mindset about the people from this nation was that they refrain from foreigners’ especially brown or black race. Some say there is a special soft corner for Asians. Am I feeling it now? My forehead was slightly shrinking and I was looking pointlessly at the floor.

This time her face was full of expressions. She was saying “What is the problem with you? You talk with so joy, then suddenly you become quiet?”. She then kept her lips tight; her lower lip bending below the upper and made slowly whipped her head. Then she pointed me and made a circle around her face and pointed towards Young Robert Niro poster at the side. I also wanted to compare her with someone. She was looking like someone I was craze about. Who is that? Yes. She looked like Harry potter’s friend Hermione. Now I made a circle with my imaginary wand and kept my index finger on the cheek and twisted it. She understood immediately. We then conversed about the four Harry potter films. Like all Potter fans, she hated voldemort, loved Hagrid, and felt very sad for Professor Dumbledore.

Oh dear, here comes my stop. I stood up and gestured that I’ve to go. I was expecting a small depressive movement from her eyelids or in the face. Finding nothing, I was wondering “Does this end here? Will I ever meet her?”. As the train halted, her cell phone rang and she was bidding me adieu. She moved her eyes from me and moved towards her handbag. But I couldn’t. As I got down and when the doors were waiting open for no commuters entering, I heard her talking. Did I really hear that? ” ம்! சொல்லும்மா”.