NA - Page 6

OS- Junk of the heart

He knows that she is bored out of her mind. She thinks such events are too bland. Everyone is dressed in boring shades of pastels, the food doesn't have enough spice and the song is not too loud. Rich people just don't know how throw a happening party, she had told him once and when he had had asked her what a happening party consisted of exactly she had listed things on her finger tips- thunderous Punjabi music, bold and shiny decorations, colorful theme of dressing and of course Jalebis for dessert .He had laughed heartily at that.

She is fidgeting with her Sari's pallu and looking restless. People are dancing and twirling around merrily and she looks at him helplessly. He decides his plan in a flash and pulls her after himself to the car. She gives him a quizzical look but he ignores it and buckles her seatbelt into place.

He pulls up the car in front of a road side Dhaba and the incandescent look of joy she gives him makes him feel twenty feet tall. She undoes her belt and rushes out hurriedly towards the Dhaba. He follows her with a smile and watches as she almost dives into the group of people who are dancing. He feels that she is just like a child sometimes, even after living a hard life she had managed to retain her innocence and he is thankful for that. She stands out in the group simply because she radiates with happiness. She calls him out to dance but he declines, preferring to see her in her element.

Later that night as they sit and chat over food in the Dhaba he gives her a packet of Jalebi he had purchased from a roadside stand while she had been busy dancing. She lights up and chomps on them gladly. Her joie de verve over little things in life never fails to surprise him and he shakes his head in amusement. After a while she remembers that he hasn't had any and sheepishly offers him one. When he tries to refuse she pouts dramatically. He laughs out loud at her theatrics and she takes this as an opportunity to stuff the Jalebi in his mouth and now she is the one who is laughing.

He drives her to her house and throughout the way she sings old Hindi songs. He wonders if she knows how out of tune her singing is. He likes the noise she makes- the tinkling of her payal, the light rustle of her of her sepia veil when she rushes from one place to another and even her terrible singing. Before he even realizes it, he is tapping at the steering wheel in sync with her song. She looks as this and starts singing even more enthusiastically than before, swaying her head from side to side.Silly girl, he thinks to himself.

She gets out of the car and shuts the door. He is disappointed that the day had ended so soon. With her time did always seem to fly. She turns around abruptly and taps at the car's window and he rolls it down. She leans in and whispers a thank you. He gives an curt nod and looks away. She finds his hand, gives it a reassuring squeeze and says softly that she will see him tomorrow. This lifts up his spirits and he slowly breaks into a smile.

Tomorrow suddenly seems a long time away, he thinks to himself as he drives and hums the same tune she had been crooning earlier that day.