I'm an average looking guy but that'll change once my beard grows to its full potential. I take great care of my beard. I trim it and oil it and run my fingers through it when I'm thinking. And I wholeheartedly believe that my beard feels good when I do that. Beards after all help you think; they deserve some acknowledgement.
I'm walking to my college; It's a rainy saturday morning in June and rainy Saturday mornings in summer make me think of everything that's right with the world. The way it smells when it rains, the way it rains in summer, like the clouds are saying Hey, it's okay; you do your thing, we'll take care of the rest. The way kids play in rain, never mind that at least one of them's going with pneumonia. The wind's flowing with gleeful abandon and the four wheelers aren't honking loudly. And so, everything's just like the beginning of a late 90s romantic comedy when my headphones stop working. I take them off and start singing to myself. I'm done with three Abhijit songs and one Mohd. Irfan (Banjaara, which I sing with great feeling) by the time I reach the mathematics department, which, as expected, smells like wet nerds.
I'm heading over to my usual place, R4 - the empty classroom across the corridor when I'm stopped dead in my track by the most beautiful girls in the world, I am not exaggerating. Sure, there're good looking people all over college - there's Tiwary in physics, Smita in chemistry, Debanjan in English, Vinita in English, Asma in English, Patwardhan in Engish.. you get the gist. But she's different. I look at any of these people, I go Damn and turn away. I look at her and I go DAAAAYYYUM.
How do I describe her? She's about five foot ten, has short hair and sharp eyes (not just sharp. sharp) and when she smiles, it like rain in June. It's like the world's a better place again. It was as if things were getting messy and the Gods decided to send an angel down. I wave at her. "Hi!" she says and I hear the most pleasant laughter I have ever heard. "I almost didn't recognize you, with the facial hair." "Yeah, things haven't been going well for me lately and I'm trying to hide my face," I say. "Okay.." she says and laughs again.
"How're things?" I ask.
"Things are nice! We have good teachers this year. Phatangare, Acharya.. and you know what, I don't hate Acharya. He's actually good"
I want to tell her I don't hate Acharya, my HOD. Poor guy's doing the best he can. In fact, he said something nice today and that song Aaj phir tum pe pyaar aaya hai started playing in my head.
"Oh you wait. Give him some time."
"Ah, so you're guaranteeing that.." laugh no. 3. That was easy.
She doesn't so much laugh as take everything you want in life and condense all that information into one sound wave. And all I want in life is to make lame jokes and be loved and be occasionally useful, in that order. We talk for a few more minutes but I'm not really into the conversation.My mind's imagining park benches with the two of us sitting with her head on my shoulder.
How do I describe her? She's about five foot ten, has short hair and sharp eyes (not just sharp. sharp) and when she smiles, it like rain in June. It's like the world's a better place again. It was as if things were getting messy and the Gods decided to send an angel down. I wave at her. "Hi!" she says and I hear the most pleasant laughter I have ever heard. "I almost didn't recognize you, with the facial hair." "Yeah, things haven't been going well for me lately and I'm trying to hide my face," I say. "Okay.." she says and laughs again.
"How're things?" I ask.
"Things are nice! We have good teachers this year. Phatangare, Acharya.. and you know what, I don't hate Acharya. He's actually good"
I want to tell her I don't hate Acharya, my HOD. Poor guy's doing the best he can. In fact, he said something nice today and that song Aaj phir tum pe pyaar aaya hai started playing in my head.
"Oh you wait. Give him some time."
"Ah, so you're guaranteeing that.." laugh no. 3. That was easy.
She doesn't so much laugh as take everything you want in life and condense all that information into one sound wave. And all I want in life is to make lame jokes and be loved and be occasionally useful, in that order. We talk for a few more minutes but I'm not really into the conversation.My mind's imagining park benches with the two of us sitting with her head on my shoulder.
