That Girl by the Pool

Gravitating over the bastion of the balcony, I was busy with Jennifer's "The Geography of You and Me." Though there's nothing as relaxing as the evening breeze tickling you while you turn the delicious pages of Jennifer's love stories but these no more seemed to please me so I took a note over the activities being carried in society's campus. The watchman was lost in his own world taking a siesta, few of the boys were playing football and as usual a group of aunties was busy in their tittle-tattle but my eyes caught attention to a girl by the pool who was busy on her phone. My eyes were stuck over her for a moment until I found that she noticed me gazing at her. I tried to steal my eyes but in hastiness I dropped my novel, the novel nose dived in the balcony of the flat on 13th floor. My heart sank on this foolish behavior of mine, I felt like stabbing myself ar jumping off the balcony but somehow I gathered all my emotions and walked back into my room. That night, I slept grinning ear to ear. In spite of having absolutely no dreams involving her, I woke up as fresh as deodorant.

The next day I locked my room and pressed the elevator button. The same rush in the elevator as usual, the elevator descended down the 15th floor and almost evacuated on 14th floor. It again descended down and the elevator's door opened on 13th floor, I walked out and rang the doorbell. "Come in, it's unlocked", a rough though appealing voice reverberated in my ears. I opened the door and sneaked in. I noticed that this flat was a little bit differently furbished from others as it had it's kitchen attached to it's hall unlike mine.

"Hi! How's you?" she smiled at me jovially standing behind the kitchen's stove. It was almost a smile of recognition, as if she had been privileged to know me since ages and that I was her favorite guest. I bit on my braces, her eyes were everything the on screen actresses syncope of and authors write doublets on. Though flimsy but her sleek black tresses shone and one lock of her hair hung cutely on her blooming face. She was probably a few years older than me and wore a red t-shirt that read Bose DK. I smiled looking at her and tried to power up. Speak up, I vociferated inside and mentally enumerated what I had to say. Just ask for your novel, as you would normally do and say "Thank you" when you get it, I instructed myself. "Hey! Are you still in senses or noticed something phantasmal" she chuckled and asked me to sit down while fluently dealing with her roasted chicken as it savored to me. Yeah! I replied in a broken tone. "Last evening, dropped my novel in your balcony, can get it back?" I asked her and this time more smoothly. "While hastily stealing your eyes from me?" she asked smiling. "Oh god! She noticed me" I murmured. No, it wasn't like that, actually I was... "You were looking at something else, right?" she interrupted me before letting me make an excuse. "Yeah! Exactly my point, how did you know that?" I asked her to which she didn't bother to answer. There was a pause for moment and then breaking the silence she asked if she could keep the book for few more days to which gave an unwilling nod because I'm little selfish when it comes to sharing my books but this time I couldn't simply deny privileging her voice.

After a moment I thought she's not going to eat me up if strike a conversation with her and gathered some courage to ask her name "by the way, I'm Amit, Amit Arora and you?" "My name is Roshni" she replied. She followed suit. "Right, Amit" she said "and you live on..."

"15th Floor" I shared the moment with her. "Would you like to have something" she asked. I wanted the conversation to be carried further so I replied "a cup of tea with..". "With two teaspoons of sugar and a pinch of ginger aroma" she completed my sentence. I looked surprisingly at her. "I read your blogs", she further added. "Thanks", I greeted. Thereafter we carried a general conversation about everything and nothing until the tea was ready. She traced her way to the place I was sitting and presented me my cup of tea and then retraced her way behind the stove. While taking small sips we talked about our hobbies, likes and dislikes. I found out she loves travelling and she too is a travel blogger and now I could figure out why haven't we met before. I finished my tea and said I'll have to leave because I've some urgent work to do. She smiled and said "see you again, Amit". I felt so invited so l replied "sure, but next time at my place?" She nodded positively. Next morning, I woke and looked for my phone. A notification popped up "Roshni Arakere sent you a friend request." I accepted her request and not being desperate I decided not to text first. I got off the bed and decided to take a bath first but soon my messenger's bell rang. I checked my phone and again it was none other than her. And once again we started talking about everything and nothing without noticing it was already afternoon. So, we waved each other a goodbye with a promise of having a coffee that day's evening at my place. The day passed in excitement of having her at my place. At 5:30 the doorbell rang and I walked up to the door and opened the door for her. Today, I had taken special measures to make myself presentable. Blue is my favorite color so from my limited collection of blue shirts, I chose the one which was my favorite not because it was best among all but because it was the last gift my grandfather presented me before leaving this world. And as usual coincidences favored me and she was also wearing a blue salwar suit with white patches on them with a light though red colored lipstick. Overall, she was looking magnificent. This time I didn't hesitate and greeted her. We walked to my drawing room where I had made some special arrangements such as low lighting and scented candles to which she complimented and we walked to the table and I pulled the chair for her. I asked her to wait and rushed towards the kitchen and retracted my path with a tray in my hand. I had prepared two cups of coffee, one of which I passed to her. She thanked me and the conversation started. One by one she

started telling me her childhood stories and this guy who told his story to the world was listening to her stories quietly. She told me

how she got to leave the home at an age of 9 years just because her father scolded her and all the crazy stuffs about her and I kept

listening to her. However the conversation ended over a phone call she got from her mom and she said "she'll have to leave now for her native house." I asked her what was the matter to which she replied "I'll text you once I reach my home" and she left. Today its past 3 years since she left. I texted her not once, not twice but hundreds of times but still no replies and she didn't even bother to contact me.

And today, sitting on my couch I asked myself "Am I sad?" Nope, that was not what it felt like. It was a funny feeling.

I cursed myself- funny won't do. Such words are what foolish people resort to. I did like her, most definitely I did. Or did I?

What was it that I felt for her? I stopped on my tracks as the words hit in between my eyes - fascination.

"So why did I wait for her? What was I hoping from her anyway? Nothing! A happy voice rang inside me. So what are you thinking over and over again? Nothing! came the reply again, even happier."