A nice Saturday it was
Shes in Allahabad and she gave me a mail just two days before she was to return. An SMS, a night's wait, another SMS and I finally get to talk to my English teacher. The meet is fixed and I have the address all scribbled on a piece of paper and I am super excited. My date today is a real wonderful person with the most beautiful smile, so full of warmth that it became the reason why I thought I needed a counselor in the first place. I actually never needed one.
In 40 minutes time, I rode to her home following the long list of landmarks she'd given me for every wrong turn i might take. I had my super-cool moped, which I had just some time before setting out, recovered from the garage postponing the much needed servicing. Ma'am wouldn't have allowed me to come had I no vehicle. So the Hero Puch does act like the Hero who saves this meet for me and thus deserves a mention.
Like always I started to feel the insecurity of not being someone really important. She didn't do anything to let that impression. Its just that she looked some busy when I reached her home. She was actually busy arranging the privacy I'd need to comfortably talk to her.
The khukuri I had gifted her had found a place in her living room decoration. She wanted to hear what I didn't want to write to her. The moment I had been waiting for...to give it her in style..surprise her. She surprised me instead. LE getting married didn't surprise her a bit..and some minutes later she told me that it'd do good to me. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I wanted her to think I am pained and that then I'd tell her how numb I feel. She sure thought that I was pained and I did find the opportunity to tell her that...the since then stories..and flowers and that I don't drink tea. She got coffee for us both because we both don't drink tea. I had one super weird reason which I confessed to her on her insisting and she did complement me in this regard when she gave me an equally weird reason for her not doing so.
When I had set out from hostel sacrificing the special Saturday meal that we get at our mess, I thought I would take lunch at her place.And she kept insisting on my having lunch but I wasn't hungry anymore and I didn't want her to spend time preparing lunch for me. The talks shifted to 'her GHOST' stories and I made a discovery about her that astonished me. She isn't ambitious or someone looking to find economic independence for her. Shes almost got a doctorate in English..shes published a few international journals and shes got a decent salary. But shes waiting for her ghost..waiting for her angel to propose marriage to her. She wants to live depending on her husband..decorating her home..watching television soaps and movies. It was very unlike her and it suddenly reminded me of Jenny Cavelleri. It sounded so Jenny like. Shes a modernist who is now advocating...not actually advocating..wishing for herself, the 'women should stay at home' system. She was sounding so much like a little girl mad in love that I was slightly worried. God Forbid. I wish her wait pays.
I found the chance to confess to her how bad I'm at ending a meet and that she should tell me when I should leave. After another half an hour of pleasant talks I took leave.
In 40 minutes time, I rode to her home following the long list of landmarks she'd given me for every wrong turn i might take. I had my super-cool moped, which I had just some time before setting out, recovered from the garage postponing the much needed servicing. Ma'am wouldn't have allowed me to come had I no vehicle. So the Hero Puch does act like the Hero who saves this meet for me and thus deserves a mention.
Like always I started to feel the insecurity of not being someone really important. She didn't do anything to let that impression. Its just that she looked some busy when I reached her home. She was actually busy arranging the privacy I'd need to comfortably talk to her.
The khukuri I had gifted her had found a place in her living room decoration. She wanted to hear what I didn't want to write to her. The moment I had been waiting for...to give it her in style..surprise her. She surprised me instead. LE getting married didn't surprise her a bit..and some minutes later she told me that it'd do good to me. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I wanted her to think I am pained and that then I'd tell her how numb I feel. She sure thought that I was pained and I did find the opportunity to tell her that...the since then stories..and flowers and that I don't drink tea. She got coffee for us both because we both don't drink tea. I had one super weird reason which I confessed to her on her insisting and she did complement me in this regard when she gave me an equally weird reason for her not doing so.
When I had set out from hostel sacrificing the special Saturday meal that we get at our mess, I thought I would take lunch at her place.And she kept insisting on my having lunch but I wasn't hungry anymore and I didn't want her to spend time preparing lunch for me. The talks shifted to 'her GHOST' stories and I made a discovery about her that astonished me. She isn't ambitious or someone looking to find economic independence for her. Shes almost got a doctorate in English..shes published a few international journals and shes got a decent salary. But shes waiting for her ghost..waiting for her angel to propose marriage to her. She wants to live depending on her husband..decorating her home..watching television soaps and movies. It was very unlike her and it suddenly reminded me of Jenny Cavelleri. It sounded so Jenny like. Shes a modernist who is now advocating...not actually advocating..wishing for herself, the 'women should stay at home' system. She was sounding so much like a little girl mad in love that I was slightly worried. God Forbid. I wish her wait pays.
I found the chance to confess to her how bad I'm at ending a meet and that she should tell me when I should leave. After another half an hour of pleasant talks I took leave.
posted by Runit Saria at 2:03 PM
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