His gaze always
intoxicated me. His dark glittery eyes radiated a fierce, uncompromising
intelligence. Those eyes were the warmest molten chocolate brownie with
impossibly long lashes. I had been trying to decode the alertness in his eyes,
behind that round power glass standing on his cute button nose. I had been
eager to dive into the depth of his eyes for an eternity. But those eyes always
flickered past me.
Blinking with feigned
innocence I had eyed him demurely three months ago on his first day at the
research firm that I had been working for quite a while. All consumed in his
dark mysterious chocolaty looks I had missed to listen to what he was sharing
about himself when Rohan, our HR manager introduced him to us.
I regretted not listening
about him so much that I decided to punish myself by not satisfying my unending
cravings of creamy sweet vanilla chocolates.
The milky and buttery
aroma always oozed out from my Instagram feed asking me to take a small bite of
one of the chocolates resting right next to my bed’s drawer. But the craving to
be closer to him always won over my cravings for the chocolates. I knew I would
never be getting his attention if I didn’t stop eating them.
Sunanda, my gynecologist would
have been the happiest to hear my break up with the chocolates. “You are
digging your grave with your spoon.” Since my diagnosis of PCOS, she had been
recommending me to lose my weight. I had been turning a deaf ear to her for the
last two years.
“My 46 F boobs keep my
stomach warm. No regrets, Doctor.” Blazed with torches I used to answer
Sunanda. For some unknown reason, I have always felt close to my gynecologist.
I am completely a different person in front of her. I guess it’s because of
her. Such a warm personality Sunanda is. I frequently visit her; sometimes with
serious uterus issues while sometimes just to feel light.
I thought of sharing
about him to her.
I could already imagine
her modestly ridiculing me adjusting her bangs. I love it when she does that
with her thin slithering fingers. Even in her forties Sunanda still outshines
me. She has a kind of understated beauty; perhaps it is because she is so
disarmingly unaware of how charming she is. She is taller than the average
Nepali woman and certainly larger than a catwalk model, but in her
ordinariness, she is stunning. The most astonishing woman I have ever met. I,
on the other hand, have stopped growing at four foot nine inches; have the kind
of face people forget even before looking at it. I don’t have a single part of
me, apart from my wrist, that is small and I look as if I am forty when I have
just landed on my mid-twenties two months ago.
Sunanda has a sweet,
mellifluous voice. Whenever I listen to her it makes me feel like I am floating
in air. Oh! Her lips! Her lips reminded me of a rosebud. Sometimes when she
parts her lips slightly, it makes me stop speaking waiting in anticipation to
see her lips moving. I wish I had her lips.
“Your lips are so dry and
peeling”
That was the remark when
I had agreed to kiss one of the boys at my high school. He had an abnormally
large tongue. It was so fat and disgusting; it didn’t fit my mouth. But I
couldn’t say anything as for the first time someone had an interest in kissing
me. And I was the one who had followed him to the men’s room accepting his
proposal which he had made sliding a note inside my Nepali book.
“Hey! Beautiful!
I love you. I want to
kiss you and hold you close. Meet me in the men’s room after the class.”
He had written in bad
handwriting.
It tickled me. No one had
ever eyed me that way. I too wanted to feel what other girls at my class had
already experienced. Every day the girls would huddle around and share how
their boyfriends kissed them.
I decided to meet him
then later to regret that kiss all my life because that gave him the leeway to
touch my boobs. Kissing like a bloodhound; sloppy with too much tongue, his
right hands had slowly started to move below my shirt, squeezing and pinching
my cute pink nipples as well as my face red. He then literally started sucking
on my face to the point where my face felt crusty from all his dried-up drool.
It was so disgusting that I had to push him off of me. Ugh!
“I made your life, bitch.
Your lips are so dry and peeling. I shall gift you a lip balm tomorrow.” I
heard him shouting as I ran through the door.
The next day was worse.
“Give me my fucking 1000
rupees. By the way, her breasts are not that bad huh! I can now proudly say I
have touched the largest boobs of this school.” I eavesdropped him sharing with
his friends with a burst of thunderous laughter. I ran away completely
heartbroken with my flaming cheeks that day intensifying my timid nature since
then. Since then, I locked my words, along with my thoughts, feelings, and dreams.
Since then, I have stopped coloring my lips.
But this time it’s
different.
There’s something
different in Abhinav. So different, that I am willing to let go of my innocent
personality in the office. I can’t imagine myself spying on someone’s cubicle.
But I did tiptoe to Rohan’s room just with the hope to find Abhinav’s phone
number. I did find it and later mugged it up as well but didn’t gather enough
courage to give him a call. Not even a missed call. And I can’t expect a call
from him. I am an ordinary face working on a completely different project than
his.
Everyone was busy with
their own work, most of the time on their desks in front of their computers. I
am most of the days anxious but grateful to be able to see him every day and
know that I could at least speak with the silence, peek into his eyes he could
almost catch, cease to exist for a few moments- even if it were only for a
fraction of a second- as they felt infinity all around him.
This morning I caught him
peeking at my bosom out of a narrow corner of his left eye.
I was talking to Rubina,
whose desk is right across mine.
“Hey! Jasmine! Can you
share the last report that you were working on, please? I heard that you are
the one researching on Bagmati project,” Abhinav broke into our conversation.
I fumbled to find the
report. I couldn’t.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said.
“Is it the one next to
your pen holder?” Abhinav pointed.
“Oh! Stupid me!” I said,
finally saw the report and handed it to him.
An awkward side-by-side
smile followed.
I didn’t know how to
react. So, I just left the conversation pretending as if I had some urgent work
to complete and started typing.
Clicketyclackclickclickeyclickclackclick
He was still standing in
front of me.
The pitter-patter of
mechanical rain couldn’t take my attention from him rather I wanted to see if
he was still playing peek-a-boo with the accentuated curves that my new
brassiere had created. Demi-cup bra, I
had bought that bra recently on Sunanda’s recommendation. I had inquired once
about how she had that added cleavage.
I had noted his interest
on me as he passed by later in the evening and had it not been for my crippling
shyness, perhaps I would have dared to summarize the report or talk further
about it. But I lacked the courage. A strange fear always groped me when it
comes to man.
‘I will soon overcome
this’ I reminded myself the promise that I had made with Sunanda.
“You need closure,
Jasmine. You never had closure with your old self. Though you grew up, you
couldn’t grow over what happened in your high school. If this continues, you
will never find the courage to fall in love, even not with yourself.” Sunanda
had encouraged me on my last visit.
“Sorry, this
closure-closure you keep doing. What exactly is closure, Sunanda?” I had asked
her with a pinch of disapproval.
“I was never body
shammed, so I neither know nor have to deal will all this. But trust me,
Jasmine, even I went through a lot of shit in my childhood.” Sunanda continued.
“As a child, I grew up in a household where fear and betrayal ran deep. For
years I watched my father abuse my mother both physically and mentally for not
giving birth to a son. We were four daughters and my mother passed away while
giving birth to my fifth sister.”
I listened to her
stunned.
“A day would barely pass
before the sound of forceful strikes and gut-wrenching cries echoed throughout
the house whenever she was alive. I could hear her cry even after her death. I
would become so overwhelmed with fear and anxiety that I would all of a sudden
burst into tears. Later, I used all my anxiety to motivate myself in becoming a
gynecologist.”
“Can I hug you?” I had
asked her naively listening to her story.
That was the most
beautiful hug I have ever had. We hugged each other as if we had found our
missing friend after several years.
“I will overcome my
fear.” I had promised her.
On my way home, an
elderly couple ambled along her arm in his. I sauntered imagining me in her and
him in that well built old man.
My cell phone started
dancing Adele’s “Make you feel my love”.
Shoot, it was him
calling. He might have got my number from the report that he had asked for
earlier.
I turned red. My knees
started shaking. My heart froze. I could feel my nerves tingling as if I was
being tickled with a small feather.
I sucked in a shaky
breath, feeling my throat constrict. Panic rose like bile in my body. I
suddenly didn’t know how to speak. Or Walk. Or Run. I just stood blank, staring
up at my dancing Samsung Galaxy S5. My palms were clammy, and it was all I
could do swipe my mobile right. “Hello.” I managed, the word rolling out of my
mouth like tumbleweed.
“Hey, Jasmine! Abhinav,
here!” He spoke from the other side.
The second he uttered my
name I felt a deep sense of well-being as though I was no longer alone. My unconfessed
sentiments had yet to be revealed, but they were not going to remain unknown
for long.
“Hey, Jasmine! Are you
listening? Shall we go out for dinner today?”
It was difficult for me
to believe my ears.
The anxiety curled into
my stomach, hands clawing up my throat and choking me letting me the words I
had practiced over and over again in the mirror in my small bedroom be dragged
back down my throat and dissolved into the acid of my belly. I had been dreaming
about the day when we would first talk and then slowly meet and then slowly
fall in love with each other. But everything was happening fast, so fast that I
wasn’t being able to comprehend. I should have been thinking if moving that
fast was actually what I wanted. I should have been thinking if he actually
wanted to go out with me. I should have been thinking if there was anything
fishy. But all I could worry was about
keeping my knees buckling under the weight of my wobbly body.
“I might be a little late but yeaahhhhh… Sure”
I blurted.
Bang…
My brain hit me. I was
searching for some words of excuse. But … At times we are fooled by our words
and end up accepting situations like these.
“I will be waiting for
you at Alina’s at 7.” He hung up.
I asked myself. No words
can really describe what receiving a call like that feels like.
Excited and nervous at
the same time, I was watching my own hands struggle against the door as I
pushed it open. The heavy wooden door finally gave way, and I was soon rushing
into the bathroom. The irresistible warm water quickly rained onto my skin. I
came out silky, soft and beautiful.
I chose to wear a long
and flowing dress that I had bought recently. It had the color of the red wine,
intense violet; round necked and quarter sleeved.
I looked into the mirror
incomplete. I opened the drawer and painted myself with a dark red strawberry
lipstick.
I hurriedly clicked a
selfie and whatsapped it to Sunanda with the caption ‘Hey! All set to move on!
On a date’
Without even waiting for
her reply I rushed towards Baneswor. I didn’t want to keep him waiting.
Yessss
I was absolutely on time.
I looked around and found a place at the corner. I was eagerly waiting for him
just to realize how slow the time moves.
I sat there tapping my
left foot, biting my nails. My eyes dart back and forth to the clock as it
showed 8.
I start running my hands
through my hair frequently stealing peeks at the watch that I had been wearing.
Slowly the hour dial hit 9 and I thought I had to leave.
When I was just ready to
leave, I found him fumbling towards me.
“Sorry, I had to stay
back at the office. Deadlines, you know.” He smirked in a low voice.
His feet were finding it
harder to find the floor. I held him tight to prevent him from falling.
I turned an angle to look
at him properly; an attractive face with arresting deep brown eyes.
“It’s ok,” I said with a
smile.
The waiter came forward
to make us aware that the kitchen is going to close, so we need to order fast.
He didn’t reply. He just
held my hand and got me outside the restaurant. I didn’t dare to ask him why
and where he was going to take me. I guess, his inebriation was so strong
within me.
‘This is insane,
completely insane,’ my heart kept chanting as I sat pillion on his bike.
He kick-started his bike.
I wasn’t being able to figure out if it was the vibration of his Enfield or the
thumping of my heart.
We left the compound of
Alina’s and headed out towards the outer Ring Road to reach a two-storied
building, a fifteen-minute drive. He tore into the building.
‘Relax’ ‘Relax’
I was consoling myself
all the way.
Without any word, he
pulled me into the corner room on the first floor. I felt a strong wind blowing
inside me. My heart pounded.
The room where I was had
more square footage than my entire floor. It had a king size bed in the center,
with a white silk bedspread, and several framed pictures on an enameled
sideboard. The antique furniture in the room made it resemble one of the posh boutique
hotels of Kathmandu. I quickly scanned through the framed pictures. It looked
like most of them where his family photographs. I saw one of Abhinav as a
child. He was standing next to his father. His cute button nose is still the
same.
“Are we at the right
place?” I managed to ask him in a low voice.
He didn’t bother to
answer.
My heart pounded hard.
Something was wrong.
He walked up real close
to me, eye inches from mine. In a split of a second, he was just an inch far
from me and I could sense a pungent smell. I felt nauseous. When my nose was
just trying to figure out what it was off, my tongue was the first to find it
out. I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. Confused, I stood still.
His hand started to dance
on my bare back, all thanks to the backless robe that I had worn. Though
unexpected and bland, I was trying to drift my mind and enjoy his lips.
He suddenly stopped and
said, “I missed you, Rubina.”
“Rubina?” I muttered with
my smeared lips. He had tasted my strawberries very carelessly.
In his drunkenness, he
asked in return, “Who are you?”
Trembling, I stumbled to
the closest chair and plopped down before I fell down.
I had heard Rubina
patiently a week ago share with her tearful eyes the story of her break up.
“I can’t tell you the name
of the guy but he used me to get into my pants.” She had shared me in our
office canteen when I had asked her if everything was alright with her as she
had stopped smiling for a few days. “It was him who started the conversation
and later he blamed me for hitting on him. I was being my real self. Don’t I
smile to everyone I see, Jasmine?” She had then started crying like a baby.
Hundreds of voices
started shouting over one another inside my head.
Oh! Rubina! Why didn’t
you tell it was Abhinav? I started panting. I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress
and tried to control my breathing.
‘So what do I do?’ ‘Run
away?’ I kept on asking myself. It was already dark.
‘Let me leave the same
way I had come and vanish.’ My heart replied. I considered the idea. I decided
to sneak out, get back home, and pretend this never happened.
A few minutes later, as I
ran down the stairs, guilt flooded through me.
‘Not again’ I cried. I
ran back to the room where he was lying inebriated. I pulled him in his collars
and made him open his eyes. When he turned to look at me I cracked my hand
across his face leaving a red welt behind.
“I am Jasmine, you
moron,” I yelled.
***
I sat on my cozy bed in
the room; a quilt wrapped around and hugged myself tightly.
The phone vibrating in my
pocket jolted me.
“Oh! Wow! You look
gorgeous! Sorry I was busy, couldn’t reply earlier. I hope the date went well”
Sunanda had whatsapped.
“Yeah, I kept the
promise.” I wrote back along with a relieved faced emoticon.
“Yay!!” she replied.
“I am eager to hear the
complete story. Let’s catch up tomorrow.” She continued.
“Sure. 6 pm at your
clinic?” I said.
“See you” She sent with a
smiley.
I then slowly unlocked
the drawer attached to my bed, opened my dark brown chocolate slowly, paying
attention to its silky sheen and delicious color as it melted between my thumb
and index finger. As soon as the scent of vanilla surrounded me I realized how
much I had missed the crisp bite of my dark chocolate. With a small piece of it
melting on my tongue, I inhaled a sigh of relief unapologetically.
