Circle

“Pasa……….” He heard someone calling.

He opened his eyes. The straw barred hut was same as usual. The torn pairs of gray underpants were hanging on the strings through the middle. The thick layer of dust had covered the broken pieces of furniture. Few of the cooking utensils were on the broken rack. The clothes had been bundled and thrown in the corner. They were waiting for a Saturday. A locker with the half empty shelves was partially open. Few of the empty hangers were hanging in there. The sun was peeping through the small holes in the roof of the hut. The hut was illuminated with the rays of lights passing through them.

It was eight fifteen. He got of the bed and headed for the tap.

He came back with a washed face and wet hair. He took out a small old greasy mirror and checked his teeth. They were all white. He took a closer look at his face. Few of the pimples had emerged in the cheek. He squeezed them one by one. The white puss was out. The skin near the pimples had turned red.

He shoved his hands in the mustard oil. He caressed them through his hair. He took a dusty comb and ran it through his hair. After few of the strokes it was neatly middle parted. He took a small pair of scissors and thinned out his partially peeping beard. He hated razors. They were difficult to use. He had tried it once and had only managed to cut himself.

He took a handkerchief and folded it along the diagonal. He took it longitudinally and put it around his neck. He tied it around his neck. The knot appeared in the front. His multicolored shirt and belly bottom pants looked perfect.

It was eight forty-five. He had fifteen minutes to spare.

He silently sipped tea in front of the rusty old tea shop. The boys were cracking up. They were howling in laughter. He had no desire to laugh. He nervously glanced at the watch. It was eight fifty five. He looked at the road.

* * *

She came slowly walking around the corner.

She was beautiful. She had a beautiful longitudinal face. A thin nose ran along it. The small thin lips were slightly curled. Dark beady eyes were searching for something in front. The long curly black hair was bouncing by her sides as she walked on. She was in white and blue surwal kurta. The long white shawl was wrapped around her neck. Her eyebrows had been properly highlighted with dark black mascara.

She looked ahead. The "lofar" was there in the tea shop. He looked out of place in that multicolored shirt and belly bottom pants. He was staring at her. It had been almost a month since this had started. He stared at her. He followed her. He asked for her number. She never replied.

The morning college was less crowded. Only few students were walking through that big metallic gate. The majority of students came in the afternoon.

She had to hurry to her class.

* * *

He was in his usual white shirt and dark black pants. He looked elegant in them. His face was clean-shaven. A rectangular spectacle hung over his eyes. The hair was neatly parted.

“Good morning class.” He said in a soft deep voice.

“Good morning sir.” The class rose to their feet.

He looked around. It was same as usual. The class toppers had occupied the first bench. The second bench had that girl. He nervously glanced at her. She was intently gazing at him. She was on her white and blue surwal kurta. She made him uneasy. She was half her age yet she had that gaze. It made him uncomfortable. She had a sly smile on her lips. He immediately changed the direction of his glance.

He picked a marker from the bench and started the class.

The class went quite well. The Faraday's theory of electromagnetic induction had been discussed and elaborated to depth. He believed most of the students had got the concept well. Few last bencher were busy talking. Some were busy staring at his face. He didn’t care much about them.

He walked down the corridor for the staff room. The big clock hung by the end of it. It was nearly eleven o’clock. He turned left and swiftly entered the big brown hall. Staff room was written on top of it.

He nervously glanced at the opposite side. The dance teacher was there. She was busy talking another teacher.

* * *

She had a cute oval face. Her long silky black hair reached up to her lower hip. The mild black color adorned her. She was busy in her conversation.

He was still gazing at her. He remembered the first time he had seen her. it was in the principals room. She was there for the interview. She had applied for the post of dance teacher. He was hit by a thunderbolt. He was awestruck. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. For the first week he had remembered nothing more than her face, elegance, hair and grace.

He was still struck by her beauty. Five minutes with her in the staff room was the best moment of his day.

The lady got off the bench and headed for the exit.

The morning job was good. It paid her enough. She loved the job. The students loved her. They had learned sufficiently. The last cultural program was quite a success. Her classical composition had earned few very good remarks.

She reached the exit. The tall physics teacher was there as usual. His mouth was partially open.

She remembered the first time she met him. It was a disaster. He blushed like a teenager when she introduced himself. He couldn’t speak. Only a long he.., he…., hello… appeared out of his mouth. She had never tried speaking to him since then.

She was late for her next job. Once outside, she called for a cab and headed for the theater.

The rehearsal had already begun. They were about to reach her scene.

* * *

The protagonist was delivering the dialogues. His long deep voice was vibrating in the big empty hall. The fluidity with which he was delivering the dialogues was admirable. He was moving gracefully across the stage. The hand gestures were of perfect timing. They coincided perfectly with the timing of his dialogue. The passion in which he was doing his job was admirable.

She liked the intensity with which he took his job. His fluidity and depth of voice had touched her. The dialogues went directly into her heart. She had liked him the very first day she saw him act. And it hadn’t changed a bit since then.

It was her scene now. She was the girl for the dance scene. This was her moment. She would be dancing with him about five minutes.

The rehearsal was over. It had been a tough one. But he enjoyed it. The protagonist sat on the bench outside the theater center for a cup of tea. The dance girl was really good at her job. She had danced with the intensity which he had never seen her dance before.

The fish seller passed along the way. She had the basket of fish on her head. It was perfectly balanced on the mercy of gravity. Her hands were placed in her hips. She was hurrying through the crowd of people in a catlike manner.

Her blouse was cut short ensuring the maximum exposure of the backside. The sari had been wrapped around her legs. The portion below the knee was neatly visible. She had voluptuous curves neatly exposed. The long black hair had been tied in the back to form a pouch. The lines of mascara had been put around the eyes. A black dot had been put on the chin to imitate the natural mole.

The visible skin was sun tanned. She spent seven to eight hours a day fishing in the sun. this had given her skin a golden color.

He kept on looking at her until she was no more to be seen.

* * *

She hurried towards the fish market. The sales would be high now. If she missed the afternoon tip the sales would be low for the rest of the day.

She reached the teashop. A group of boys were seated in the circle. A lone figure was in the middle. He was sipping tea in silence. The red handkerchief round his neck looked good on him. The neatly parted hair was oddly catchy. The multicolored shirt with the long belly bottom pant made him look tall and handsome.

She was still looking at him. She didn’t see a bicycle coming from the opposite direction. Bang, they collided. She fell flat on the ground. The fishes were scattered all over.

She blushed profusely. She looked in the boy’s direction to see if he had seen her fall.


-Tilak K C (Based on a Indian Video)