I saw you again today in the lift. You looked lost somewhere which gave me ample time to take in your beauty. To take in those eyes, deep deep eyes. That chiselled nose, and those lips. I loved that chin of yours, tilted to that stubborn angle. You seem like a matured guy with a kid inside. Seeing you makes me want to love the kid inside and to be loved by the man.
Ah! Me and my fantasies again. I should admit that for a married woman I have not lost the imagination. At times I think of speaking to you, to tell you a lot of things, to tell you how lonely I am. To tell you that the guy, this society calls my husband is no where related to me. Emotionally we lost contact years ago and after the three miscarriages, he lost interest in me physically too. I am like the phone number which cannot be deleted from your contact list and is never dialled. The unpaid maid who sleeps in the master’s bed.
Ah! Leave it. Now days I don’t like thinking about him or cry on my miseries of life. Now I have you to fill my dreams and thoughts. To fill the void created and thats whats makes life beautiful. In the past two years I had lost the urge to dress up or try and look good. But now days I can’t stop staring in the mirror and blushing like a love sick teenager. At times I make faces in front of the mirror imagining you to see from somewhere laugh and talk to me. You at times feel like the manna from heaven sent to make me happy again.
Can’t forget the day you came to our flat, talked to Ashok, and told him you were shifting to the flat next to ours. And borrowed the stool. I was there, looking at you from behind the curtain. From that day onwards my heartbeat has not been back to normal. Even Ashok noticed some changes. He actually after years of ignoring said that I look different and asked the reason. Why should I tell him, that it’s because I am in love again. I feel pretty again. The love songs make sense again and every time I open the door, my eyes search for that known face again. It’s like am alive again.
This is no bollywood movie so I know that there will be no happy ending. May be you will never know my name let alone like me, u will not even know that I exist let alone touch me. But you know what I have no hopes and no demands, because after a long long time I am happy, happy, not for him, not for you but happy for myself and in the end isn’t it all that matters. My happy ending.