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If you had missed the previous chapters, click here to read: Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5.

                                               

                                                  CHAPTER 6


Ronny was the one to speak first. He embarrassingly apologized to her for asking such a question. “Curiosity got the better of meee.. I shouldn’t have, dear. Sorry.” He told.

“Ron… that’s just fine. Erm… are you by any chance outside?” she asked.

“Of course not.. why do you ask?” he asked.

“Nothing nothing… you know what.. I go for team lunches with my boss and my other coleagues… Do you guys hang out too?” she asked, praying that he must not find her question to be unusually suspicious.

“Ah..Wow..Larson takes you guys to team lunch? And you lament to me that you have a moron for a boss, eh?” he asked laughing at her.

“Well. He might have been a little considerate, at times.” She told.

“Whatever… but we never have team lunches here. And even if we had one, me and Steve would be the last persons to go!” he said.

“Oh…Why?” she asked, her brows frowning ironically.

“Jessy will want to spent some time alone with me when the team had gone for the lunch and Steve…. He doesn’t take much interest in anything, really. And nowadays, he has become worse.” He concluded.

“mmm… yes, that’s right. So how has it been with Jess and you?” she asked.

“Well… we have been going steady and I am waiting for the right time to propose to her to marry me.” He told, his voice raising in excitement.
“Yes. I am very happy for you, pal. Now I’ll have to get back. Let me talk to you later.” She said hurriedly as Larson entered her cabin.


                                                           ******

When Maureen’s father went to meet her mom, she paced around looking for Steve. But there wasn’t any trace of him. After searching te whole place down, she went to the cafeteria as the last resort.

There he was sipping his coffee and talking animatedly to a doctor nearby. As soon as he saw her approach him, he waved a big ‘hi’ and rushed to get another cup of coffee for her.

They sat together, enjoying the crispy warm day and the delicious coffee in their tongue. As Steve saw a golden ray riding upon her hair, he was brimming in admiration of her long, wavy hair which fell to her shoulders and some at the table in which she was leaning over.

He could feel his heart thump rapidly, as he saw her lips smile in wonder as to what he was thinking about. He kept his left hand on his chest and commanded his heart to stay quiet. But it beat faster than ever, ignoring his command.

His heart was longing to get back to the moment they had had their measly first kiss. His arms yearned to feel her and he arched an involuntary smile.

He suddenly realized that someone was calling his name.

“Hello! Steve…heyyy!” Maureen was waving beneath Steve’s nose to bring him back to reality. “Ah…Sorry.. I was just….” He stuttered. “I… I was just trying to contemplate how our future would be.” He said with an embarrassed smile.

Maureen could gather that he wasn’t doing any such thing but only admiring her. She smiled back, a knowing smile, and put her arms around him. After a long period of years, Maureen felt wonderful to have someone so close to her and who could understand her feelings with the bat of an eyelid.



                                                             ******

It was an exciting day for Maureen at office as the feathers on her cap piled up by every moment. Larson had informed her that apart from pronmoting her as the sales manager, he was also to make her head an important project of a major client of the company.

He had also informed her about a 15% hike in her pay. She had almost forgotten about the past 2-3 days’ events and relished a lot of laughter and fun with her colleagues.  “I have never seen you laugh so heartily, in a long while, Maureen.” Said Martha, her team mate.

Indeed Maureen had been spotted the happiest person in the office that day. Thanks to the due promotion and hike in pay that had come her way.


Maureen had even forgotten that Steve had lied to her, while she engrossed herself in dreaming about her promising future. “Perhaps, we could go on a vacation over to Mauritius for this Christmas.” She dreamed aloud.

Maureen had called it a day, quite early and was having a look over the shops in the streets on her way back home. She had spotted a sports wear store which had exquisite varities of sports attire for men. She skimmed through the store in search of a surfing suit that Steve was yearning to buy for quite a while. She managed to pick an expensive surfing suit for him, in his favourite colour blue.

She also bought a large size pizza for the both of them and got back home, still dreaming about her future. As she came back home, she locked the door and went to take a luxurious bath to be rid of her frequent migrane.

After the shower, she got into her night pyjamas and lied down on the cot with a magazine by her side. She flipped through the endless pages of the magazine to just stay awake till he arrived home. The clock struck 9:00 PM, but there wasn’t the expected knock on the door.

She stifled a yawn and tried to catch up with a telly series which she had been watching. An hour had passed away like a minute, but she couldn’t hear the horn of Steve’s car in the streets.


                                                                   ****** 

TO BE CONTINUED...


Image courtesy: Internet

Comments

  1. Nicely written Gayu :) Good read. To be continued ? Waiting for surprises !

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And you shall not be disappointed. :D Keep reading! :)

      Delete
  2. I gotta go back and read from the beginning.. :) :)

    ReplyDelete

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The stars that connect the sky,  the tides that weave the sea, the pebbles that merge the shore, the trees that mesh the forest, the branches that link the trees,  the leaves that entwine the branches, the sun that lights the horizon, the sky that paints the water, the waters that survives the fish, the fish that eats the seaweeds, the seaweeds that carpets the rocks, the rocks that protects the soil, the soil that strengthens the roots, the roots that keeps alive the trees,  the trees that mesh the forest, the forest that survives the big bears, leopards, and birds, the birds that live on the worms, the worms that protect the soil, the soil that gives birth to crops, the crops that survive the we, the we that eat everything in this big, wild world, the world in us is the world outside, the outside that reflects the inside, the inside that is abstract, the abstract is opaque, yet translucent, the translucence of the sun rays in a muddled dew drop at daw…

To write is to dwell

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012





















What writing means to me...

As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv.

When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves, the flowers that smile at me on the road side, happy child…

I'm too shallow to write a verse

I'm too shallow to write a verse To wrap around the twists and turns To dwell unto my own, I do Living somebody else's life or my own? Shrouded under piles of thought, I scribble, thinking only of the applause.
I'm too shallow to write a verse or two To make ends meet, I'm too cuckoo. I'm not the classic, scratching blue wooing 'em, tearing 'em apart  with every word.
I'm not the one who rhymes nor the one with notes for those lyrics. I'm the one who scribbles blotching blue on all my troubles, roiling over moments back and forth, trying to string those stray words, into at least a doggerel. See, I don't make sense.  I told you, I'm too shallow to pen that sonnet, that ballad, that haiku, that refrain, that ode.
I'm forcing it out all that gibberish snowballed  unto mine, to chime and rhyme  but nevertheless I realise in time, I'm to shallow to be read over cheese and wine.