Of an infidel morning..

Such infidel thoughts in this circumspect world – and you’re being watched from everywhere. I’m missing a girl whom I shall not! But is there really something that “one shall not even miss someone”?

I was reading Slow Man by Coetzee this morning. Paul – my protagonist, a man of 70 with his leg amputated – pondering over his feelings for his caretaker Marijana – while she is dusting his books. Paul tries to find an exact word for his feelings. If he has to choose one word, he thinks, it would be admiration. “Can desire grow out of admiration, or are the two quite distinct species?” Paul thinks.

I, suddenly like a twinge, thought of a girl whom I had fallen in – principally an admiration. Whatever it was, it kept floating between admiration and desire – more towards admiration. What was it that I admired, I know not. Not really intelligent – someone whom I would put in “average” range – someone who makes mistakes in spellings and words and gets confused between convince and convenience. A beauty she was – no doubt absolutely gorgeous (so much that I once in my thoughts had named her Georgiana), but that must not be the reason. Was it her innocence? Perhaps it was, at least for the first few days, but later it was more of her reluctance to fall. I knew she admired me – a lot – and hence perhaps more cautious to let it not move up to desire. Sheer reluctance! Perhaps, it was no more an innocence.

My days were counted. As such, I was kind of taking a liberty to indulge, knowing it is to end on a fixed date. I weaved my days around her. I knew it was cruel of me trying to break her reluctance and I was still doing it. I knew it was best of it to leave it unsolved, and I was still trying to untangle it – only such that it does not get solved indeed. I lived my days between a yes and no – between admire and desire.

With an abrupt end, it started to fade away day by day. It was never to the stage where I could text her and say “I miss you” – in fact, never even where I could text her anytime I want. So when I was reading Coetzee this morning and was thinking of my Marijana, there was no question of me letting her know about it.

Then it started raining today – first real rain of this monsoon – making the weather kind of romantic when you see it out of the windows – and I set myself afloat, let myself flow…

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2 Responses to “Of an infidel morning..”

  1. Impavid Says:

    Beautifully put !!:-)
    कळत नकळत खूब काही घडून जात ….

  2. mayur hulsar Says:

    Enjoy, the Mumbai rain, dude.

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