In The Eyes Of The Beholder
Chapter 2
He was an arrogant SOB, the world was his oyster and all the women, pearls to be plucked and stringed along for his pleasure.
He was tall, fair and handsome. He had muscles that made women go ga-ga over them and he worked out in the gym to tone them to perfection. His looks and his body, were the commodity with which he bought the favors and adulation of any woman that he wanted. But this game was getting old, too fast for him. He was bored with the easy conquests and everything around him was leaving a sense of vague dissatisfaction within him. He yearned for something more, something different.
And then he met her. Geet Handa. She did not stand out in the crowd of peacocks that he always surrounded himself with. He only ever associated with the most beautiful people. The reason he had even noticed her was her eccentric behavior at their first meeting and every encounter thereafter.
The custom painted Harley Davidson,'Softail Fatboy' entered the college premises with a low throaty rumble. It was a beast from hell on steroids; the owner of the bike, outfitted in black leather and a completely enclosed black helmet, looked no less than the devil himself.
A girl, who was crossing the road, stopped in her tracks and stared in fascination at the approaching duo. The driver hit the brakes hard, on seeing the unexpected human road block and stopped the bike barely one foot away from her. Instead of backing away, she moved forward as if in a trance.
"Wow. Hey there handsome. You're a wild beast aren't you." She crooned in a husky voice as she approached the bike and the rider.
"I would so love to paint you just like this; sexy and bold with such an attractive body. I love your style. You are such a show off, you big, macho, bad boy."
Maan had heard a lot of things about himself and was used to his ego being stroked, but he'd never been accosted right in the middle of the road and bombarded with such praise laden words, that too just at the first meeting.
She was messing up with the rules of seduction and flirtation, neither was she particularly attractive. She did not have an ounce of makeup on; her lips looked chapped and were free of even a simple dash of lip gloss on them. Half of her face was hidden behind huge sunglasses, above which her unplucked eyebrows, slashed across her forehead, looking almost like a unibrow. And the other half was covered with overlong bangs, that needed a trim badly.
"It's just our first meeting sweetheart. And you have your work cut out for you if you are trying to impress me." He mocked her.
She then took off her sunglasses and frowned in his general vicinity, without meeting his eyes directly. She did have beautiful eyes though, he realized. Although, the striking unibrow probably drew more attention than the beauty of her eyes, he thought.
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were there. I mean of course I knew you were there. I mean somebody had to be driving this beauty, right? But I forgot all about you just for a moment."
She forgot about him? SHE FORGOT ABOUT HIM? How could anybody forget about him?
Wait a minute! That meant she had not been talking about him? His gaze dropped to her hand which was lovingly stroking the curved handles of his bike. Shit!! She'd been drooling over his bike, not him. He'd been sidelined for a piece of metal, by... by this unidentified foreign object.
That's right! She had to be an alien not to recognize who he was. He suddenly realized that he still had his helmet on and slapped his forehead mentally. Damn!! That was it. She'd not seen his face, so of course she wouldn't know who he was. He removed his helmet with a flourish and tossed his head back.
"I am Maan. Maan Singh Khurana."
"Uh-huh." She said absently, never even looking up at his face once.
Damn it.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Yes of course. You are the owner of this handsome beast. It is same as the bike, the robot drove in Terminator 2, isn't it? God he was handsome."
"Who was?" he asked involuntarily.
"The robot, of course."
He himself was a huge fan of the Terminator movies and just for a moment was intrigued by this woman's interest in the movies.
"You mean Arnold Schwarzenegger, the actor don't you?"
"Oh is that the name of the guy who was the robot? Never mind. The robot had this beautiful red eye and the symmetry and the grey metallic components of his face were just a work of art. "
She really had liked the ugly robot face, not Arnold he realized in shock. God damn it. He felt like he was in the twilight zone, having an unreal conversation with a UFO.
(That's the face Geet likes😆)
"Get your paws off my bike."
"Aww. But why? I really want to paint it. I wouldn't even mind if you sat on it while I painted it. But you'd have to keep your helmet on of course. It would make you blend in better with the painting."
He gritted his teeth, pulled the hand that still making love to his bike and started driving off.
"Wait a minute." She called out. She dug out a pen and a piece of paper from her bag, hastily scribbled something and handed it over to him.
"Here's my name and number, if you change your mind."
Maan looked down in shock at the paper in his hand.
Women handed over their name and number to him on a regular basis. He had a huge collection of these scraps at home. But each and every one had been meant for him and not for the chrome and leather machine under him.
Geet Handa.
Ph No: 1234567890
"Good bye, Hades." She gave a last loving caress to the bike before turning and walking away.
His jaw dropped at that statement.
She had named his bike, His bike, mind you. They'd barely had a five minute conversation, in which she'd ignored him completely, literally drooled all over his bike, while cooing at it and petting it and now she'd dared to name it after the Greek god of the Underworld.
He gunned his bike, followed her and screeched a halt right in front of her. He lifted her palm and slapped the piece of paper she'd given him, onto it.
"Thanks, but no thanks." He glared at her. She was startled and looked up at him for a moment. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to her bangs which had shifted slightly away from her temple.
He peered at it closely in amazement. She hastily covered it when she realized where he was looking.
This was one crazy woman he realized. There had been a tiny tattooed image on her temple under her bangs. It read:
He frowned for a minute and realized it was the mirror image of V2R1'
What a strange thing to write and whoever stamped their forehead with a tattoo.
Perhaps she liked somebody, or was obsessed with him. That could be the reason why she'd tattooed those initials and numbers on her face. That could also be the reason she was not interested in him.
Though he knew that illogical answer did not make sense, it satisfied his ego and he gave himself a mental pat for the deduction.
He decided he'd had enough of this woman for now and hoped he never came face to face with her again. He shook his head at her and drove off.
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