Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The Girl Without A Face



It must be around two years back. I was in class ninth then. The exams were over and the vacations had started. Unusually, it had rained sometime before. A cloudy grey sky and a silent cold breeze were most welcome on a sunny afternoon. The smell of the earth after the rain was intoxicating. The sun after much fight had fallen into oblivion. The leaves were moist and the flowers looked wonderful. I could not remain in the closed confines of my house and went out riding my new bicycle. It was my new-found hobby to 'discover' new roads and show them to my friends.

The road was wet and had high conifers on either side. It was empty but for some small birds chirping and laughing. After riding for quite some time, I saw someone. A boy? No. Her effeminate walk, long locks and pink dress suggested otherwise. She was like a magnet attracting me towards her. I had always dreamed about an angel wearing a pink dress with flowing laces holding a wand. Was this my angel? With the excitement and apprehension of seeing Santa Claus for the first time, I followed her. She had a fresh rose in her hand and was walking oblivious of everything around her- singing and dancing. I was in a trance. I forgot everything about myself and followed her. I lost count of how much time had passed but when I recovered, she was not there.

I cried a lot that night. What was behind that elusive face? Perhaps, I will never find out. I went for many days in search for her on that road. And then, I forgot. Well, that's life.

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For those of you who think I am sixteen, well I am not. I found this on a paper while cleaning my closet. It seems funny that I don't remember much about this incident. To tell the truth, I don't remember anything at all. I literally forgot. "Well, that's life." If it had not been for this paper, I would not even have known such an incident had happened. And God, I dreamed about an angel dressed in pink, what was I, a goddamn six year old. And " a rose, singing and dancing" , I guess that's the effect Bollywood can have on a child who has not attained puberty. Or has? I don't remember.

6 comments:

gypsy said...

good attempt...

Cяystal said...

i agree with d gypsy =)

Rabia said...

lol still cute heh...... you should UPDATE more often -nods-

Matangi Mawley said...

:)... u know.. i agree wid u.. evn i get bits of papers as i clean..(1ce in a blue moon) my room.. sme crazy doodles of mine.. i try to recollect whn i actually wrote it.. i cant recollect..

really nice! u shld clean u'r closet more often.. ;)

Anonymous said...

This happens to me when I read old diaries.
I go - "really?! I did/thought/wrote THAT??!!??!!"

:D

IncorrigibleV said...

v cute... i smiled more at ur note :)