BEAUTY

I get off the train – sticky, sweating and smelling like a pig.

I lay eyes on her.

And suddenly I am not feeling tired anymore, and my fatigue is gone..

She’s not beautiful. Not even close. She is just an average looking Indian girl.

But nothing about her is average.

She is wearing a beautiful sky blue colored salwaar kameez, and long dangling ear-rings. Ok, the ear-rings are a bit too long for my taste. But it really doesn’t matter. Everything else about her is so beautiful.

I look around, as I try to comprehend what I am feeling.

I would never otherwise describe her as beautiful.

But that sight… of my best friend… whom I am seeing after all these years… the sight is beautiful… the light scent of her perfume, which is still the same after all these years… the wait in her eyes… her frantic search for a familiar face in the crowd… for my familiar face… the stillness in her stance, her calm body language contradicts her state of mind, which she cannot hide no matter how hard she tries… for her eyes are too innocent… and bare… I see her anticipation, her excitement right through her efforts to conceal it. And the child like beauty amuses me and pulls me like a magnet.

She still hasn’t seen me, almost as if purposely. She is looking in every possible direction but mine.

I linger close to the edge of the platform where I got off, and enjoy the moment… the moment that will soon be gone…

I’m almost crushed as I realise it won’t last too long.

She looks at her watch, as if to remind me how long it has been since I have seen her.

I pick up my bag and start walking towards her, and I laugh as it comes back to me…

I had asked her for a recent picture of her, just in case I don’t recognize her. And I realise that at that moment, the picture just isn’t coming to my mind…