Thursday, January 16, 2014

Strange Connections



Ahh! You are here. After a wait of just 2.30 hrs finally you decided to show up.
No! No! I am not complaining. What rights do I have to even think about complaining?
My point was, won’t it be terrific if we know about each other’s timings of coming to library. Or let’s not complicate things; wouldn’t it be easy if I knew your preferred timings of coming here.
I know it sounds too much of a commitment but I think I deserve to know at least that much about you.
Oh! I am so sorry. Let me rephrase. I already know enough about you from your online profiles. I know your name; the city you belong to, the school u went to and yes the company you worked for.  What else a guy wants to know about a girl before……..!!!
But for the sake of simplicity and to make it less serendipitous don’t you think I should know the preferred time you would love to come and read Ayn Rand.
Yes! I know she is your favourite writer. I have seen you with her books so many times… last month it was Atlas Shrugged and I know you loved it. The way you were engrossed into that thick book made me realise how passionate you are about things you love. Don’t worry I am not judging you. It is one of my favourites also.  If anything it made me feel closer to you. I know you feel like Atlas carrying the burden of millions on his shoulders, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders. And I also know that you want to shrug but the mere sense of responsibility and achievement is making you walk that extra mile. 
What! How can you not sit in the same seat where you always used to? The same seat in the left corner which has only one charging point. The seat in which, no one else likes to sit. Do not give me that cold look. I totally understand your choice. Even I would have chosen the same seat, had I not seen you there sitting and enjoying your lone time.  
But why did you leave that seat today? I sat diametrically opposite to the seat so that I can look at you while you enjoy your book without you noticing my predicament. And now I can’t even see your face.
By the way you look tremendously excited today. Your face is glowing like a spark of fire. Ahh!! A new book! Tell me which one is it. Looking at the cover as far as I can guess it should be: A Thousand Splendid Suns: a brilliant love story of Laila and Tariq framed in a disturbing backdrop of Afghanistan.   If you ask me please do not read it. It is too depressing for you and I can’t stand that helpless look on your face when you will read about the atrocities on Mariam and Laila. But I can see that you are too adamant when it comes to books.
As stupid it may seem but I already feel like your Tariq who wants you but this veil of silence and anonymity will always be our biggest problem. I might know about you a lot, but you are still ignorant of my existence. There must not have been even a single day when before entering the library your thought has not crossed my mind. Every time I got ready, I secretly wished that you notice my presence near you.
Yes I accept that I stalked your profile a million times but let me be honest my intentions were pious. I know we are worlds apart, just liking similar books or choosing the same seat doesn’t make us a perfect match but whenever I look at you I see my reflection in you. I know you have different plans for your life and you will never be interested in my existence in your world. But I have always wished just to talk to you for once. To hear you talk passionately about books which have moved you deeply. And just look into your eyes to see that glow which I often notice when you find a new book to read.
I know this may sound too far-fetched but as your favourite writer says:
“A man will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permits him to experience a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value, will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strongest, the hardest to conquer--because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement.”      
Believe me; for me you are the one.