The Day I Knew
It was a nice day.
Monstrous grey clouds rumbled in the sky, an occasional flash of white greeting it. A wind gushed over the organisms; so strong it threatened to knock me off my bike. My legs were a bit shaky but my heart was soaring, satiated and happy, unlike the blobs of water above. It had taken less than a week for me to fall in love with the art of dance. Dance; the amount of peace and sense of self-control it provided was marvelous. Every motion of Sharon's limbs in that rehearsal hall made sense to me now. Every step was akin words, you just had to have the temperament to understand them.
The sky rumbled louder.
I had grown a strong liking for hip hop, despite its rugged appearance. Contemporary, I found soothing, a dance form worthy of strong emotions. I pictured Sharon in that white dress, in the rehearsal hall, an unusually serene smile on her face. The way her hair fell over face as her hands skillfully cut through the air-
I clutched my brakes, skidding to a stop; suddenly breathless. In good time, my brain added as I realized how close I had been to denting a shiny Mercedes Benz. Phew. I parked my bike just behind the Merc and ambled away on the footpath, the sky above me darker than ever. The perfect build up for one hell of a rain, I'd say.
The onslaught began.
Before I could even gather my wits to express my happiness, the rain had completely drenched me. Not unlike my love for Sharon had. With a lopsided grin, I dug my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and pulled the hood over my wet head. My eyes caught the sight of a 'Rai Chaat and Snacks' and I found myself attracted to it alike a moth to a flame, like a Swayam to Sharon. The shop was nearly empty, with just one of the three tables occupied. By someone I knew very well. My breath hitched and I could feel my insides tremble from the cold and the enormity of the current situation. I even considered the absurd idea of me having hallucinations; it was that unlikely.
Sharon Rai Prakash was seated on the bench, munching on a plate of bhel puri with much gusto; a manner unbecoming of a Diva, a rich snob. I stood transfixed for a while, having to then remind myself to get moving. Trying not to gain Sharon's attention, I walked to the counter and ordered the same delicacy as Sharon, hoping to decode what freed her alter ego. It was surprising for me to see this side of her, to see her face filled with childish joy for a food item, found best in a dingy shop. Sharon, in a dingy shop. Gobbling down a chaat dish she'd otherwise look down as unhygienic. If anyone had told me I'd live to see this day before, I'd have sent them packing to an asylum. Too bad, because they'd have to be brought back. A lopsided grin crawled up my face. It was pleasing to know that I was beginning to understand Sharon, understand who she was in her real form. Not the Diva, not the dancer, but Sharon. And what better way to do that than by knowing her childish desires?
**
The canteen was bustling as usual.
The Dazzlers were seated on 'their' table, having their own share of fun, while I was in the corner nearest to them, joined by Bharat. He was a nice chap with anger issues with a complementry inferiority complex. I didn't blame him. Anyone within a mile of the Dazzlers would have the same complex. Thanks the Almighty, the complex hadn't struck me yet.
"Bhel for you Ms. Rai Prakash" The plate was placed on the table much to the Dazzlers' annoyance. The two girls screeched in contempt, rambling about how Sharon would never eat something which originated from roadside stalls. Forget them, Sharon's expressions were worth noticing all this time. I could very well see the battle raging in her mind. And my smile hardened, just a bit. She didn't really live her life. Not that she wasn't happy in the life she chose, but I could see her inhibitions and insecurities holding her tight, keeping her chin raised, her face regal.
I saw her cringing as the plate passed past her and chuckled. Her defenses were up, she was berating the delicacy with much vehemence. I sighed, at the look of utter despair in her eyes.
"I hate it."
I know Sharon, I know.
Udne Ki Aasha
Cricket
