The Crush - Episode 11

That implied I was caught red-handed while I was shamelessly staring at her vital organs. My embarassment had no bounds. My embarassment had no definition. Yet, it had some movement: it spread across my innocent pale face and started moving rapidly down my waist area and finally took a u-turn at the ankles. Then it started crawling up back, passed over my buttocks and finally stopped at the place where it actually started. This embarassed me further.

Ofcourse, I was not looking at her organs with lust. I was looking at them out of love. True and heartfelt love. Once you fall in love, you tend to have this strange feeling of assuming ownership over your lover’s appendages. Only true lovers understand this strange feeling.

I knew she has a husband. But, I didn’t know she has a brother too. Neither had she told me. I hate them to the extent I love her. I wanted to tell this to her, upfront. But I couldn’t muster courage. I was provisionally gutless.

“I would like to know about your husband and brother too. Infact, I would love to know about your entire family and in-laws and grand generation and beyond that. You see, I am of the reserved types. So, I didn’t really want to interfere in your personal matters ” I told her in a soft romantic voice.

“That’s like a plump pumpkin..Now can you guess what could I have brought for you from my in-laws’s place?” she asked me giving a 32-teeth smile.

Well…hmm..if my guess is something to go with, you might have brought..hmm…mm….LOTS OF LOVE FOR ME…hehehehe…” saying this I stared at her sharp love-inducing eyes, which sopped in rain a few minutes ago.

She moved a little closer to me. And I could feel her breath and sense the mild soap-like aroma from her body.

“You are getting too romantic. Any girl in my place would have definitely fallen for you. She wouldn’t have minded to give you a muscular hug once she gets encaptivated by your powerful looks through those third-rate ancient spectacles” she said romantically, and giggled naughtily.

“You naughty girl !!” said my innersense which was on a roll and was giggling vigorously.

“Now, please close your eyes” she said in a soft romantic voice, typical of a hollywood actress. “Don’t open them until I ask you to”

“Ok. As you please” I giggled..

I was standing there with loads of expectations in my closed eyes.
“Is she gonna kiss me?” – no it’s too early to expect a kiss at this stage of relationship.
‘Is she gonna hug me”- no it’s not the right place to expect a hug. (Nor do I recommend personally)
“Is she gonna hand over a gift to me” – probably yes. But not sure.
“If yes, what could be that gift”- probably an i-pod? Can’t say.
“Or is she gonna …….”

Before I proceeded further with my internal conversation, I felt her grabbing my hand and placing a feather-weighted, 6-inch gadget into my hand.

“Now open your eyes slowly” she said.

As I opened my eyes, I saw her face beaming with curiosity. I still can’t forget the curiosity in her eyes, eagerly waiting to witness my expression once I see the ‘surprise gift’ she placed in my hand.

I slowly looked at my hand to see what that surprise gift was. My heart was pounding heavily and my mind was sincerely practising the various stylish and humble ways to react if it indeed turns out to be an i-pod.

It was a plastic comb. A dirty plastic comb with missing teeths here and there and ridiculous amounts of black oily deposits at the base.

The most embarrassing moment in my life. Infact, the most irrating moment in my life.

“How dare she insult my baldness by gifting me a filthy comb, huh?
My love doesn’t come at the cost of insulting my biological deficiency, you lady!
I may be bald, but I have a fully clean heart.
I may be bald, but I have a dandruff-free scalp.
I may be bald, but I have hair-rich thighs.
How dare you insult me symbolically by giving a comb?
Are all girls like this? Is this what happens to all true lovers? Common, tell me I say?

But somewhere in the corner of my heart, I felt she had a definite purpose behind this nuissance. I had known her for the past 9 days and I definitely feel she has some good cause behind her action. I knew her pretty well. Even my innersense knew her pretty well.

She began sobbing. “Do you remember this?”

Now, what the hell does she mean by “do-you-remember-this?”

Before I opened my mouth and moved my tongue to speak out something, tears rolled down her cheeks like a baby’s piss.

"I am sure you remember this. I told you on our way back from office that day. This is my brother Pyarelal’s comb" saying this, she hugged my belly sturdily and hid her face underneath my jacket, breaking wildly into tears.

I gave an embarassing smile to the middle-aged man at the bustop who has been watching our free show for the past half-an-hour.

Not wanting to forego this opportunity, I gave her a warm romantic hug forgetting about Pyarelal and his dirty comb.

It was a bustop. And I was feeling shy.

After a few minutes of slience and one-side-romantic-other-side-pyarelal-induced hug, she took her original position of standing straight a couple of feets away.

“Today I want to tell you why I love you so much” she resolved explicitly

“Why?” I enquired in a soft romantic voice expecting her to hug me again.

“Had my brother been alive today, he would would have looked exactly like you: same height, same size, same shape, same spectacles, same caring heart, same patience while listening, same ass, same balls, same….#$#$#$#$”

While she continued with the ‘same’ list of items, I was searching for a deep well to jump into. Badluck didn’t spare me this time too.

(To be continued)