Declaration

All the works are of a purely literary nature and are set on the fictional planet of Abracadabra. It has nothing to do with earthly affairs.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

A Pretty Ordinary Story

The idea of love has always seemed phoney to me. I do not understand the point of thinking about someone incessantly for no reason at all. Pretty boring stuff. And the emotionalism literally kills me.
We had gone on a trip to one of the sea beaches around with a group of friends. I am no travel freak, in fact I hate travelling for long distances. But any ways I had agreed to it. The night had seemed perfectly normal. All the stars were there to welcome us. We had our usual quota of beers. Soon people were dozing off. I tried taking a walk to soothe my nerves. She also got up and joined me. It was a pretty long walk. We had seen each other quite for sometime but had never spoken.
Her fathomless eyes had always enchanted me. She did make faces sometimes. Pretty faces but pretty infantile. If you have seen a cat or rather a kitten trying to ask you a question you will understand better. The rolling of the eyes followed by twitching of lips seemed pretty interesting to me. Just a few fleeting glances were enough to bear the drabness and drudgeries of a business course. Pretty kitten like faces. Her physical form did not excite me much. Only the infantile cameos kept me interested.
The vast expansiveness of the ocean lay in front of us. Our faces seemed to question each other. Why were we walking together? All that cockiness of talking to someone with whom you always wanted to talk had disappeared somewhere. It was silence that prevailed. But in that silence I could hear her soft breath. And that was pretty reassuring. We walked into the waters. I stretched my hands and she obliged. It must be pretty cold but we did not seem to notice. We sat down in the water and let the waves caress our bodies.
“What do you think about those waves?” I seemed to ask. “I do not think much about waves. Not much of a thinker you know.” She replied in a quiet voice. “Can you see the two waves rushing towards each other? Do you think they can ever meet?” I continued. “I do not know. But do they need to meet each other? Why? What is the use? Do they love each other?” She seemed to think now. She continued, “And even if they do, why the idea of meeting should be so important? What if their paths had never crossed?”
She asked, “Have you ever been in love.” “I do not know. Always been pretty much confused”, I replied. Taking a few winks I continued, “But the standard version dominated by melodrama and catharsis has always bored me. What I abhor the most is the strong tendency of domestication. Just as you tie animals to poles you try tying your love to yourself. And that again kills me. ”
“What do you think about love?” I asked. “Not much of a thinker, I already told you that,” came her quick reply.
“Is it not a product of human greed? The greed to possess someone and hate to share it with the world. That is why they say you always fall in love. Probably true. I am not sure.” I just thought to myself.
Words seemed to dry up. But we seemed to carry on the conversation. Pretty interesting to carry on a conversation without using the most significant product of human endeavours called words. Pretty early man stuff.
“Did we like each other?” I was not sure. “What about you?” I asked her. “Pretty much the same.” “But you look fine to me. I do enjoy being with you”, she replied.
“Do we play a game or call it an experiment. Just the two of us. The two guinea pigs. Agreed but no melodrama please and no domestication.” The pact was signed in the presence of the moon and the stars.
She spread her arms. I lay in her bosom feeling the warmth of her soft breast and the cold water splashing over us.
Now we are back from the beaches to the moronic environs of the classroom. We do not talk often. But the kitten faced smile still relieves me from the dreariness of studying in a B- school. And the experiment goes on. No gooey stuff and no domestication. Just a plain and simple game called love. And what a bundle of joy you have been. I will call you my muse.

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