“Hey come on, I’m sorry,” I said again, but she did not listen, as always. “Yamini, I’m sorry.”
The girl kept on walking fast, away from me. I couldn’t see her going away from me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She kept on chanting the same piece.
“Hey, come on stop.” I held her hand, and she stopped. “Yamini,” I cajoled.
“Leave me,” she said, not even turning towards me, still sobbing. “I’m sorry, not you.”
“Yamini, look,” I pulled her hand, but she stuck and did not move. “I Love You. . .” I said softly. “I Love You Yamini, won’t you look at my eyes? Won’t you look into your sky?”
“No, I won’t,” she said, shocking me.
“What? Turn idiot.” I dragged her towards me, and by god’s grace, the next second, she was in my hug, getting crushed in my arms.
We were on her terrace, a pleasant evening (it would be much pleasant if she didn’t cry) with silky breeze speaking in a mellow tone. Who wouldn’t love that moment to spend in our loving ones hug? I too wanted the same, but I’m the Maestro of making disasters! That’s what happens every time.
I took her completely into my arms, tight; as if never wanting to leave her (I actually must leave in the next ten minutes!). Wrapping my arms around her slim, curvy waist, I looked straight into her eyes. Her glittering, glossy eyes into mine, “Won’t you look at your sky?” I asked again.
Her hair was falling onto her face getting disturbed by the gentle wind. Locking it behind, “I can’t spend a single day without doing so. . .”
She had wide opened, fish like blue eyes (Black of course, it’s an effect!) resembling a lotus petal, with brown, shiny iris and black pupil. Her heavy, wavy eye lids were flopping before me, taking me completely in. They were gleaming due to the moist still present inside them. They really were mesmerizing.
Then, a tear gently rolled down her beautiful left eye.
I couldn’t control mine, as my eyes became moist that second, “Yamini,” I whispered, taking her cheeks into palms. With my thumb, I wiped off the rolling tear. “I Love You.” I said, trying to control my overflow.
“I Love you too. . .” she whispered back.
“I love you more than what you do.” I again started teasing her.
“Please,” she said, again the same lump in her throat, the same heaviness in her voice.
“Sorry. . .”
“Can I kiss you?” she asked, softly.
“What? Will you really?” I wanted to scream, but I didn’t want to scream and spoil my ‘First Kiss.’
“I think you can.” I said, not so confident.
Her lips were carved into a sharp smile, may be cause of my not-so-confident answer. Looking still at my eyes, she rose on her toes, closed her eyes, I was still looking at her lips, eager to know ‘How to kiss.’ Some how she knew me and she raised her left hand and herself closed my eyes with her palm.
Her lips were near mine, I can feel. I can sense her trembling breath on my chin. I can smell it (Colgate!). She was a second-far from my lips.
It’s going to happen, my first kiss.
First Kiss, yes.
After a second,
Lips didn’t touch but, I felt her both palms on my chest. All at a sudden, she pushed me away. In fear, I opened my eyes.
“What happened?” I screamed out in true terror.
She did not speak, but pointed somewhere, silently. When I followed her tip, the one I found was a white pigeon.
“It is a pigeon, so what?” I yelled out in real confusion.
“It is not just a pigeon, it is my grandfather.” She broke my rage.
“What?” I screamed as the huge tide of uncertainty gushed over me. She is white in colour, that’s okay. But, “Why don’t you have wings and beak then?” I asked, still perplexed.
“Stop it Vicky,” I saw some emotion in her eyes, “When my grandpa died, to control my sob, my grand ma said that my grand pa’s soul went into a pigeon. From then,” she paused.
“Come on say me.”
Giving an unsure-glare, “Nothing, come down.” She held my hand, “Let’s get down.”
I was terrified, horrified, I was ‘every synonym’ to these words. “What about my kiss?”
“What kiss? Come down, may be my grand pa did not like it.” She strode down the stairs.
“Your grand pa. . .” I clenched my fists and nerves pour out. “I will slit his throat out. . .” I mumbled. (She would kill me they were audible!)
“Are you coming?” she screamed after getting down.
“Yes,” I out cried double louder, trying to reflect my anger. “Before that. . .” I searched for some stone which I saw just before, and in few moments I found it. “Let me see your grand pa chock.”
“Kill them all!!” Picking the stone, I howled and threw it towards ‘him’ very furiously. “Kill the already dead grand pa!”
Do not bother, the girl and her grand pa had mastered the art of escaping!