The Perfect Girl
She was trying to make smoke rings in the still afternoon air when I first realized it. The smile on my face suddenly vanished and my legs started to shake. I haven’t had this feeling ever since that Diwali night in Pune a zillion years ago. You always tend to remember these moments.
She would have a song for every occassion I come up with and every line I speak. She would always break into the song at the slightest instance. She would dance like no one’s watching. She would remember those little things about times long gone that make those times beautiful. She would smile and light up the entire place. She would look at me from over the rim of her glasses like there is something she wants to say. She would proudly tell me about the time she wrote an answer well. She would sadly tell me the exam she didn’t do well in. She would let her hair open and pass her fingers through them like she’s looking for answers.
She would let her eyes wander off for a nano second remembering her lost love. She would then look around and feel relieved that no one noticed.
She would spend hours sitting with me on a smoke break without realizing it. She would go crazy over the smallest things. She would act terribly mature and lovingly childish, often at the same time. She would stare at the CD box for ten minutes just trying to think what she should think or say. She would hold herself back for a moment deciding whether to hug me or not. She would. And then she would leave.
Going away isn’t always that bad. Sometimes there is hope.