The Departed Angel

Well, I somehow got reminded of an instance that happened a few years back. Well, I was artful with things I liked, which was a special feeling, which wasn’t Déjà vu.

I used to commute in public transport, distance and many friends were there, so journey was never short of an adventure each day that passed by during the two years of pre-university.

Since many people had to take the same bus at the 11th hour, we had a line of people waiting to get in so that there was no stampede. I got fascinated by a girl, a fair one, and that’s it. Her face expressed many moods of hers while she continued talking to her fellow mates.

OMG, but, didn’t give much thought to that. The situation made me see the girl more often since I was few places behind, and her face was quite visible while we were getting onto the bus. This happened for one week, and each day, she just made me go crazy with her looks. Two weeks, without notice, my heart was penchant towards the familiar face of the fortnight.

It wasn’t a situation wherein she appeared everywhere, but her actual presence on the bus stop and the bus triggered a bug inside me, known as “The Crush.” Previously, I would have liked a girl or a woman, but I never before thought so much about it.

Feelings did creep in, but it would cease as soon as she wasn’t visible. Well, talk about fantasy and an angel coming into your life; this was nothing short of it. The best thing about her was the face and the hair. Her smile and only once did I see her crying, or at least with moist eyes.

The spy inside me wanted to know more about her. At the same time, I didn’t want to be pedantic in terms of tricks or getting to know her.

I am never comfortable with such things. Sometimes or instead, most of the time, I do let the situation do the talking, if not my mouth.

I believe having good intentions about the other person, goodwill, happen since I didn’t have any malicious purposes. She ignited a soft affectionate corner in me that wasn’t discovered until date.

Previously, I would hate to have persistently thought about a girl. I was recalcitrant in this regard. Preferred, being a hermit in such issues and rather being weltered by such recurring thoughts.

In a way, I wanted to get rid of the insularity concerning such feelings.
Initially, my mind was intransigent with my heart. My heart wanted to have a very comfortable zone, which was to think about her and feel good about it. My mind was focused more on other things like studies, playing cricket, and just the routine I had at that time.

Ok, my heart won the battle, not as I would regret. But the feeling inside me at that time was right.

Each day, there were few people in between her and me in the bus queue. That’s ok; I didn’t feel like hurrying up things. I just loved the fact of seeing her face, and that’s about it. Everything else about her didn’t matter. I didn’t force myself to look into her, but situations made me, or instead, she used to be visible from where I was.

On the day of my practical exams, I joined the queue. OMG, she was standing in front of me—a black sweatshirt and blue denim trouser that complimented the upper attire. Never before in weeks had I seen her that close.

From the conversation she was having, I got to know she was in the final year of her bachelor’s degree at Jain College. (B.Com). “Elder to me, by three years??”

“How does it matter? It’s not like you want to be friends with her, you are attracted to her, and that’s it; why am I thinking so much?

We both got on the bus, and believe it or not; she was right in front of me. I had a pencil, and I was marking few pages on my book. Out came a sheet of paper, and for the first time, I started scribbling something on the bus. I still have it with me.

This is what I wrote:

Slow and steady along the road,

A bus moved carrying some load.

An angel was sitting in the front seat,

My heart woke up to rejoice in the visual treat.

As the bus moved from one place to another place;

My heart gathered to race with some pace,

Her lovely smile made me mad,

Seeing her cry, I was sad.

Her rosy lips and silky hair,

Better was the face, clear and fair.

Her hypnotic eyes and catchy dimple;

Made other girls around her look very simple.

I will remember her from time to time,

Through my heart, she would be mine.

Her stop was about to come; she prepared to get down,

My mind told the heart not to bog down.

At last, the stop came finally,

Which my heart thought would never come initially,

All these days, I couldn’t muster the courage to talk,

All I did was to see her walk.

Little did I realize I had just managed to write a poem that rhymed (a lousy one). I was fascinated by rhythmic lyrics, and in a way, my heart managed to disabuse my mind, which had a different mindset altogether before seeing this Angel.

It’s good to always listen to one’s heart. It speaks the truth, and all it does is; it pinches whenever we want to get out of our comfort zone. The heart cannot listen to any dirge playing.

Simultaneously, one must not allow our minds to get into a torpor state by listening to our hearts. One must concur and nurture our soul so that, in adversity, the heart must help us remember the good things we did instead of making us feel sinful and miserable about the situation. It must make us feel comfortable in times of agony and pain.

Listen to the inner voice; it comes in handy while shaping our destiny.

And in a way, she did trigger me, and now when I look back, those few weeks were very important and crucial in my life. Talking about one’s feelings, well, she did make me talk about it.

After that day, I saw her once more. An Angel came and departed.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s