Short Story of Love – The Boy I loved
Photo credit: clarita from morguefile.com
We were at the mall. I was beside him, longing to hold his hands. Wanting to sneak out and steal some kisses, hold him, and never let go. But most of all, I desired his attention, for him to look at me, talk to me, hold my hands and look into my eyes and see and know how I feel about him. But he was arrested by something else, someone else. His eyes were twinkling as if hypnotized and it was focused at something, someone only I couldn’t fathom what.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and he couldn’t meet my eyes. I acted like a stupid obsessive girlfriend and maybe I was and he remained an aloof stranger hypnotized by something else.
We were walking together and he had his head titled towards the glossy, glassy shops. His face had the expression of being in a Mozart’s concert. As if in tune with the greatest symphony he has ever heard! I wish it were me, I wish it were the sight of me that gave him that satisfaction, that look in his eye- the things I would do to be the reason behind that nirvana state of his!
I was still figuring out what was giving him that satisfaction, that Buddha state of ultimate peace. What/Who was it?
I looked closely as to what was he looking at. We sat down at Cafe Coffee Day. His eyes still meditating at something, his posture mindful, his expression ecstatic. What exactly was he looking at? What was giving him the infinite gratification?
I looked at him and then at the thing he was looking at, I found what he was looking at. At first I couldn’t believe. I looked again. Was he really looking at those mannequins? Those plastic bodies with no life, no age, no gender and apparently no movement, artificially created lump of plastics? Was that the thing gratifying him? Was that the thing arresting him from giving me even the minuscule attention that I craved and deserved?
He craved for a body that was perfect and will retain its perfect shape for all its life. He longed for the body that was radiating and has no hairs or the scales my body has. What was so appealing about a body that had no history? What was attractive about a body, whose biography will have blank pages? I wondered, I wanted to know.
Was it agelessness that attracted him? Was it’s fragility and vulnerability? Was it its dependency on someone else totally that made him crave for that? I wondered, I wanted to know.
Devastated I looked on. I felt my soul exiting me.
I felt my heartbeats stopping.
I saw my face brooding, my body still, concentrated on him. As he looked at the stall of mannequins! Why had I fallen for him, I questioned.
My soul left me and wandered around. Now I could see and think but can’t walk, couldn’t move my eyes, my hands, my legs. I couldn’t smell the coffee in front of me. I couldn’t.. I just couldn’t anything!
All I wanted was to Waltz with him or have a passionate Tango, what I got instead was a sentence of captivity for life. Heartbreaks are highly underrated. It’s tough to look at someone you are willing to do anything for, even if it costs your life- feel nothing, nothing at all about you! If Newton had ever loved he wouldn’t be able to give the law, ‘Every action has equal and opposite reaction.’ In love and in relationships all laws and reasons fail. I won’t be able to tell at when and how and why I fell in love with him or that why I still love him even when it means hurting myself infinitely just to get his attention. I don’t know what, when and how went wrong between us or if it ever was right! Their are infinite permutation and combination of things that can wrong in a relationship of two people and just one or at most two combination to get it right. I failed at getting the right combination.
Did I really love him or just craved his attention, I thought. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be but maybe just maybe it was and this was the way to be! I had began to question why was this happening? Why was I leaving my body- the one I was born with, the one that had been through all ups and downs of my life? Was it because the boy I loved rejected me for it or because I had grown tired of myself?
If I do this- if my soul leaves now- will I ever be able to go back to my body, I feared! Was I really that desperate to be with him?
With all those question, internal chaos, I became numb. For the longest period of time I saw my life pass me by. I watched my life as if I was watching some TV series or a movie. Only I was still as a mannequin in those moments, unlike expressiveness i had shown while watching TV series or movies. Even in those moments all I wanted was him to look at me lovingly.
Adamantly, my soul wandered and was now entering one of those glossy, glassy shops. My consciousness was now with my soul. I entered into the shop. Moved into one of those plastic dolls. Now I was a mannequin. I had a perfect body. I was ageless. Wear and tear proof unless someone manually decides to destroy me! I felt happy and then I felt trapped. Trapped inside of a body that’s not free to do anything. The body that can’t put her nose in a book, drink coffee, fall in love, drive and can’t even move on it’s own. Trapped in something that was soulless but had a soul. What was I thinking? Why did I do this to myself? Why did I become what I never wanted to become just to please a boy who doesn’t even looks at me?
As I began cursing I thought at least now he will look at me with admiration. At least I would have that! Curiosity soon turned into despair.
I looked at the boy I loved, his phone rang, had the ringtone Oh Baby Doll by Le Femme, the song I was addicted to for days and there he was sitting with some other mannequin. He switched off his phone, looked at her with admiration. Gazed at her and had the Buddha state of ultimate happiness!
I wanted to laugh at my betise. I couldn’t even do that! Not anymore.
So many question and Life answered it with ridicule.
So many screams trapped at a stare.
__END__
