Some things made her happy, and then they made her wonder about how she was capable of feeling the ecstacy. For, most things made Sharon Raiprakash cautious. The fear of pain and rejection and similar horrors was the driving force of her existence. Obviously, vigilance that stemmed from fear did not spare her the energy to be happy. Thus, happiness had a bewildering affect on her.
What we must understand at the beginning itself is that metals should not be exposed to corrosive agents and rocks to sunlight. If the metaphorical door to her heart was metallic, happiness was the corrosive agent. And if her metaphorical heart was a rock, sunlight was happiness, developing cracks in her heart by the minute, slowly but surely. This was why she needed to tell Swayum Shikhawat to go to hell as soon as possible.
He made her happy. Then, he made her wonder about how he did it. She had to do something about it. His oafish sense of humor, modest looks and Math skills had no role to play in that occurrence. It must have been the way he smiled; perhaps his eyes as well. And while we are it, maybe it was also his presence fifteen to twenty centimeters from her.
"Dude, back off." She warned him, her back to the wall and no hammer or wrecking ball in sight.
He didn't answer and came closer. She must say it now.
"I cannot give you anything." She said and instantly knew she could have done better.
"Of course you can, I heard there's chocolate cake in your bag." He grinned at her and put his hands on the wall, near both sides of her head naturally. Nothing too difficult to predict, fathom or visualize, for that matter.
"Metaphorically speaking, I am a rock." She reasoned with him, finding short and crisp statements to be most effective.
The sides of both his hands were a negligible distance away from both her ears. For a brief moment Sharon Raiprakash admired the guy's cheek. In the next moment, she found herself succumbing to it. But her faculties were anything but poor. Not heeding the sensation of his hands now definitely touching her possibly red ears, she pushed him away with her hands.
Swayum was staggering and Sharon was foolish. Because Swayum was staggering and there was plenty of room to get the hell out and she stood still. If he ever made the most opportune use of anybody's folly, it was right then. His hands reached for the wall again where she was still pinned. It seemed that both of them were certain Sharon wasn't leaving. So, he safely slipped his hands down to hers and then to her waist. That he was even touching her at all was known only because if he weren't, she would not be feeling that way. His hands were too gentle, his lips too meticulous, as though he was adept at the practice of kissing.
All that which is mentioned above was information that Sharon could not hope to process. She was befuddled and just, there. She let him kiss her, not doing him the honor, kindness if you will. For, he was on the threshold of stopping. One hand crushing his plaid shirt, the other the white vest inside, she waited for what, she didn't quite know.
The person kissing her did not terminate his initiative until he could either kiss her or let both of them breathe and live. He crossed his arms and distanced a little from her. Breathing just fine now, they both looked at each other. Swayum looked happy. Sharon did not experience any fear. So, she must be happy too. Maybe he read the wonder in her expression because he said the following.
"You're not a rock, you're a marshmallow." His tone was polite and that too made Sharon wonder.
"Swayum, this isn't good." Far from effective and crisp, this defense of a statement disgusted her.
"But I bet that cake is," He said, asked her permission and then rummaged in her bag.
Eating chocolate cake, with Sharon on his side, Swayum Shikhawat had in fact, no idea of how damaged she was. He seemed to silently know that. But for now he just ate a piece of cake, light and fluffy, opposed to the interiorly heaviness of the one who had baked it. He was just as unbothered by her concrete-like exterior. As for whether he thought that 'this' wasn't good, it was all there in his smile; perhaps in his eyes as well.
It was time-consuming on both sides, but eventually she became unafraid.
She stopped wondering.
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Anupamaa
Cricket
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