Asif khan
With my favourite golden parker pen, I penned these words upon a green pocket diary gifted to me by my cousin after my book launch last year. The door of my study room was firmly shut and I wasn’t expecting anyone to come. The books in the shelf above my table were inviting me but I was hardly interested in disturbing them. I had the fire pot (Kangri) under my black ‘Pheran’ and the phone was lying on the table, fully charged yet I gave it some rest which I hardly did. I could feel a big void in me, the feeling of being incomplete. I had received a mail from her which I checked abruptly once the notification beep rang and her face from my wallpaper became visible with the white light which the beep brought with itself. I moved my thumb over her email address time and again and strangely I could feel the butterflies every time I touched one after the other alphabet of her name. She had also influenced the ‘gmail.com’ part and I could feel the same feeling throughout. Her email address showered wine through the display of my cell phone. Being a drunken card, I could do nothing but to go deep into the sea of intoxication. I felt a sense of joy in it till my fire pot bit my finger and brought me back to my room just to see a casual reply from her. Under her email address was written ‘Thank you for coming’. It was all that she could write contrary to my skull that leaked ballads for her. I could see the huge mountain which I had built out of mere sand particles melt by the rain drops coming out from my awaiting eyes. I felt irritated and didn’t come out from my study room for some time. I could see my wallpaper stunt failing terribly which I had shown her on our first meet. The ship of promises which she made through her smiles, I could see that sinking. I covered my head with the black hood of my ‘Pheran’ and buried my face in it. After closing my eyes for some minutes in solitude, my reverie took over and I began to recollect the sweet memories from our meet as to how her apple- like cheeks dressed red on my showing of the wallpaper of my phone to her. The sermons that she delivered by stretching her lips. The nectar which she poured into my cup of tea by broadening her walnut sized eyes embedded in her fair face directing me to take the cup into my hands. I was feeling like a mother in her post-delivery period, left in her maternal home to take care of her baby. It was as if, she had planned a child with me and then had left me all on my own to take care of the newly born baby. A father, who after weaving the dreams of parenthood dropped me to the place where I grew and where I didn’t want to go, I wanted my new born baby to get the love and care of both parents. I wanted our child to keep us awakened all night, to pee upon her clothes without giving any warning. So, that I can feel the irritation upon her face and console her like a mother. Breastfeeding, the child throughout my life regardless of its age, I was sure enough that our child would always be at the zenith of its youth. Soon the notification beep of my phone disturbed me again. She looked more gorgeous to what I saw the last time when the display of my phone lit up and brought her into light. I had no courage to change the wallpaper of my phone, so I decided to switch it off. I opened the screen lock of my phone with lifeless hands but on e-mail pop up in front of my screen had given me back my motivation. She looked interested enquiring deep into the wallpaper fact and granted me another opportunity to meet her, the very next day. Suddenly, I witnessed a shift in my mood and went out smilingly after throwing down the phone in joy. I was afraid that my family may see her through my face, so I preferred to try to not act stupid. I got up six to seven times in the night which parted us.
Finally, the sun rose and with that did my excitement. I could feel my brain sending signals that I hadn’t slept properly. I hardly cared about it and went out to find a barber, I didn’t want to miss any chance of attracting her, and so I walked far from my vicinity to a special saloon. I paid him more than what I usually do to look more than what I already did. He invested almost an hour with me. He made my dark beard light and styled it a modern ‘L’ style, creating couple of cuts near my lip ends. He waxed my cheek bones and the forehead to remove whatever hair there was before icing the waxed part of my face. I was off from the shop in a hurry and made my way back to my home to get dressed. Soon, I was at the place where I always wanted to be, just close to her. I observed her from the entrance door of the cafe; she was dressed in skinny denim jeans which ran down till her ankle; where from her anklet decorated fair feet took over into her slippers. She decorated herself with a light Aari work Pheran. I felt so envious of those threads which decorated the neck of her Pheran. Her half naked fair feet perfectly slipped into her slippers as if they had been designed upon her feet. She was rolling her tresses round her index finger and fixing it loosely to the black spider-like hair grip to kill the time as it looked. She looked towards the silver coloured watch. I went forward after arranging my clothes and apologised immediately followed by the salutation. She smiled and asked me to sit without caring for the time for which I made her to wait. There was complete a silence between us, we were looking at the interiors of the cafe waiting for the other to initiate a talk. Finally, the waiter came to receive our order and broke the ice ceiling between us. She ordered two mocaccino’s without caring for my choice. Later, she explained that the cafe had the best ‘caffe mocha’ and she wanted to spend some time with me. My left leg started twitching by her words and I slowly dragged my left hand down from the table and placed it upon it. We talked about everything except for the wallpaper fact. Her Kashmiri language was honeyed Persian to my ears. She was adjusting her black hair tresses behind her right ear time and again despite the fact that they looked pretty ordered. Her frequent turns towards left and revelation of her right ear while talking got me thinking that she may be showing her pearl earring to me. I was quick in retaliating that the earring looked stunning making her blush again. She smiled and extended her arms over the table. I could feel my thumping heartbeats and the intense twitching of my left leg with each move her hand made towards mine. I gathered some courage and touched her ring to check as if she had the same intentions as me. She didn’t mind my touching of her ring which gave me a green signal. I was always a driver in hurry so I decided to move till I saw a CCTV camera hung from the ceiling above her head. I took my hand back and cleared my throat. She looked at me with disappointment and a sense of surprise. I made her aware about the camera present above her head. She laughed and took back her extended arms. I discussed the surveillance issue with her asking for her view upon the presence of CCTV’S in public places. She was intelligent enough to understand, what I meant and smilingly intervened her fingers into mine without worrying about anyone’s eye. Her hands too little, I could accommodate both of her hands in my single hand. We left in the same way till the bus stop. I wanted to ask her for her number but my throat dried up and I couldn’t utter anything, though her taking out of the phone time and again suggested that she wanted me to ask for it. But before I could gather the courage to proceed, a bus stopped near us and she boarded it as it was 7 in the evening. I kept waving my hand at her till she disappeared.
(The writer is the author of the book Prisoners of Paradise and presently pursues his masters in mass communication and journalism in the University of Kashmir. Views are his own)
