Salutes and Half Waves- I

It’s been so long since I have even logged onto this blog. I had been wanting to write down the bitter experience I had in the last two days at ISM, thanks to the administration and their whims. I actually fell ill due to that. But today I am in a different mood these days...and I have decided to write down the recent turn of events in the form a story....

Kindly note that it would be most real..with a few exaggerations here and there, what I would call as "Creative Freedom".. It is gonna e a long one..and even I don't know what turn it will take.

Something unexpected has been happening for the last few days and has been occupying my IMAGINATION since then. Yes, imagination I write, cause I still don’t know if it’s all in my head, or am I deciphering the signals correctly. Well, I am old enough to take note of the signals now, though I have never done that before, but yes, I have read it a thousand times online…and I think it is happening with me too. (Yay!!)

It all began about a week ago. I was getting out of my house, my cycle with me, to buy milk from the dairy shop. As I just got out of the door, there I saw, a guy of almost my age in his early 20s, riding his cycle along with his friend. I kept looking at him (the way I usually do with good looking guys) and he seemed to be doing the same, or at least had noticed the same. He smiled at me, and I sort of shied away. For a moment, it seemed as if I had seen the guy somewhere or knew him. Was that the reason he had also looked at me? Well, I didn’t waste much of my time and got up my cycle. I was headed in the same direction as him. I cycled fast to reach him, and then slowed down. He noticed me again, and this time said, “Nahi pehchante toh kya hua, baat toh kar hi sakte ho!” I momentarily stopped my cycle. My heartalmost skipping a beat. But then, out of no reason, I just sped away. He had reached his destination and he advanced no more, though his words rang in my ears, like the temple bells. How much I cursed myself for not stopping by and starting a conversation, for I didn’t know if I would be ever seeing him again. But then, when it came to talking to strangers or persons I am not too familiar with, I develop cold feet. I am such a crippled man in these terms, and it played spoilsport.

I thought it would be like the thousands of guys I just develop a fancy for while walking down the street or in any other crowded place and then forget as soon as I am out of it. But as luck would have it, it was not to be the case this time. As I returned back from my small trip to the dairy and was about to enter my house, I saw him coming again, this time without a shirt and only in his ganjee, sweat dripping from his body and his handkerchief around his neck. And there he was, smiling at me, and in fact, he waved at me. Not wave actually; he sort of saluted me. This time he was all alone, not in the company of any friend. I so dearly wanted to stop him and ask him was he actually hitting on me or was it just another Bengali catching the fancy of befriending a Punjabi? But as usual, I froze at the very thought of talking to him, and I let the moment pass again. Sighhh..

But destiny seems had some greater plans for me and I was to meet him very soon. And by very soon I mean a few hours later. It was around 7 pm and my stomach seemed to be asking to be fed with some light snack or evening meal. So I went to buy chops from the local shop, which was exactly at the place where I had sped away from him. As the Chopwallah was frying those chops, I stood there, trying to figure out among the dim light of the street lamp any good looking guy who could make my wait worth it and soothe my sore eyes. As I turned around, I saw two figures sitting outside a shop nearby. It wasn’t even a second that my eyes had wandered there but I saw someone waving at me and saluting in that typical manner I had seen a few hours back. My man was sitting there, chatting up with his friend, at the same time, keeping an eye on me. I wanted to run over to him and jump on him. I was all smiles, but from this distance and this darkness, he would have never seen that smile on my face. I lifted my hand to him, then pulling it back; not knowing what to do or how to respond. But even as this commotion within me continued, I did manage to half-wave at him back and he seemed to have seen that. I now felt like walking up to him, but he had his friend by his side. Even as my mind kept jostling between what should I do and what not, a lady came and sat beside them. She had a bowl in her hand and was making jhalmuri. I turned back, my head filled with thoughts of how to approach the guy. As the Chopwallah finished making the aloo chops for me, I paid him and began my journey back home. But to my dismay, he was no longer sitting there. He had suddenly disappeared, just as he had seemed to have appeared from nowhere before me. I lost my cheerful mood, but at least, I knew now that if I was to find him again, it had to be this place and shop. It was with these thoughts that I consoled my mind and prayed for another moment to meet him.

Day 2

It was just a one day meeting and for some reason, I seemed to have started longing to meet him again. But I was still not sure whether it was a chance encounter or I would be seeing more of him. The shop where I had seen him sitting with his friend the previous night was one that dealt with glass. From glass panes to glass tables…they dealt with everything. As the shop was a few meters away from my home and just on the roadside, I had to cross it whenever I would venture out of my home in that direction. These days, with my B.Tech having completed and me waiting for the joining dates to be mailed to me by the company, I didn’t have much to do and so would usually just doze off at home. But now, I seemed to long to go out in that direction. The next day at around noon, my mother asked me to bring something from the grocery shop. I had to pass the shop again. As I stepped out, I prayed to god to let him be there again. As I neared that shop, I slowed down my bicycle. I hadn’t approached the shop yet, but the road was very much visible in the glasses that lay within, resting against the wall. My man was sitting inside on a wooden table that I had seen being used to keep the glass on it to take measurements etc. He saw my reflection on the glass (which was acting like a mirror now) and was quick enough to look at me as I crossed the shop and raise his hand to give that customary salute of his. I, of course, was all smiles again and half-waved at him again. As I returned back, he was still there, only this time he had his face turned away and he didn’t see me coming. From within me, I waved at him and longed for him to turn back and look at me, but as I crossed the shop, no such thing happened.

The whole day I was now pre-occupied with thoughts of whether I was imagining it all up or whether it was heading towards the direction I thought it was. Then there was the bigger question, did he work there or was he just sitting there and chatting with his friend whom I had seen working there. After all, yesterday, he was just sitting outside the shop and was fully clothed, and today he was in his ganjee, though he did have a jeans covering his lower half. Would a worker be wearing jeans to his work? No, no way. The day passed with me contemplating the various possibilities and comforting myself with the fact that it was he who had initiated it all.