Even Mastodons Fall In Love...
It's a moderately busy saturday. He had promised to meet her on MG Road. They had already decided to lunch at Rice Bowl and then proceed on to the Rock Concert.
He comes ripping across the other side of the road and in the process, shoots a furtive glance at the building across to see if she is standing beneath as he had instructed her to. He sees her standing there and waves... while simultaneously bringing his black 5-speed RX-135 to a smooth halt at the traffic signal. She didn't even see him. He curses. The traffic light timer shows 165 seconds. He curses again. He knows that she doesn't like to be kept waiting. He curses yet again using all the profanity his peer group had ever taught him. He also remembers the amazing blow she had given him, centered dead on his half-built abs, when he had stood her up a couple of months back. Suddenly, the guy on the Karizma behind him honks... and then shouts "Guru!! Light green aithu guru..." He mutters an obscenity under bated breath and then rips off... He then parks his bike and heads over to the girl who had so patiently been waiting for him all this while.
She gives him a hug, fixes his hair which had gone awry due to the helmet he had been wearing and then says - "You're half an hour late." On seeing the dumb, sheepish look on his round face, she gives him a forgiving smile. As they walk down the footpath, he buys a pack of his favourite brand of Cigarettes - Marlboro Regular. He checks the cigarettes for the thin stripes that distinguish the originals from the fakes. She curses him for buying a whole pack but she relents knowing that it's only once in a while that he meets up with his friends to enjoy.
They then walk up to the Rice Bowl and occupy their favourite table in the half-empty restaurant, which was just by the windowblinds. She orders a bottle of Fosters Beer for him, knowing that he preferred the smoothness of Fosters rather than the "high" of the other "strong" brands. He lights up a Marlboro and takes a puff, blowing out rings as he exhales. She snatches it from him and tries taking a puff, but ends up coughing. The pretty lass rebukes him, using all the wilfulness of her 18 years of life. He loves the way her lips twist and turn and move in a magical way and it takes an overburned cigarette to snap him out of his trance. He then discards the cigarette and continues gazing at her. He looks into those lovely blue eyes of hers and realizes that her halterneck top went very well with her eyes. He curses himself for not realizing it before.
She pays the check and then they proceed towards the venue of the concert. The place was a few kilometres away, but he didn't mind riding the bike this time. He loves the way she cuddles up onto him and she loves the way his shoulder blades seem to provide just the right amount of support whenever she leans over him. He adores the way her body massages him when she leans onto him. He finds the smell of her hair exquisite when the wind blows it onto his face. She remembers the words of Stephen Hawking (a great cosmologist of our time) -
"For millions of years mankind lived just like the animals, then something happened which unleashed the power of our imagination. We learned to talk."
She feels grateful... for the fact that she is able to talk. He is grateful... for the fact that he is able to smell... smell her lovely hair. Both are grateful... for the fact that they can taste... taste each other.
He parks his babe (the bike) in the overcrowded parking lot. She gets down. They then walk towards the entrance with his hand over her shoulder. He is tall at 6'3" and she is... not very tall at 5'4". As they are walking, he sees sweat running down the back of her seemingly fragile neck. The familiar smell of her sweat, accompanied by the stunning visual of seeing it glisten in the rays of the setting sun, seemed to be push him towards a state of mellow yet powerful intoxication... And then... he whispers something in her ear. She smiles.
He comes ripping across the other side of the road and in the process, shoots a furtive glance at the building across to see if she is standing beneath as he had instructed her to. He sees her standing there and waves... while simultaneously bringing his black 5-speed RX-135 to a smooth halt at the traffic signal. She didn't even see him. He curses. The traffic light timer shows 165 seconds. He curses again. He knows that she doesn't like to be kept waiting. He curses yet again using all the profanity his peer group had ever taught him. He also remembers the amazing blow she had given him, centered dead on his half-built abs, when he had stood her up a couple of months back. Suddenly, the guy on the Karizma behind him honks... and then shouts "Guru!! Light green aithu guru..." He mutters an obscenity under bated breath and then rips off... He then parks his bike and heads over to the girl who had so patiently been waiting for him all this while.
She gives him a hug, fixes his hair which had gone awry due to the helmet he had been wearing and then says - "You're half an hour late." On seeing the dumb, sheepish look on his round face, she gives him a forgiving smile. As they walk down the footpath, he buys a pack of his favourite brand of Cigarettes - Marlboro Regular. He checks the cigarettes for the thin stripes that distinguish the originals from the fakes. She curses him for buying a whole pack but she relents knowing that it's only once in a while that he meets up with his friends to enjoy.
They then walk up to the Rice Bowl and occupy their favourite table in the half-empty restaurant, which was just by the windowblinds. She orders a bottle of Fosters Beer for him, knowing that he preferred the smoothness of Fosters rather than the "high" of the other "strong" brands. He lights up a Marlboro and takes a puff, blowing out rings as he exhales. She snatches it from him and tries taking a puff, but ends up coughing. The pretty lass rebukes him, using all the wilfulness of her 18 years of life. He loves the way her lips twist and turn and move in a magical way and it takes an overburned cigarette to snap him out of his trance. He then discards the cigarette and continues gazing at her. He looks into those lovely blue eyes of hers and realizes that her halterneck top went very well with her eyes. He curses himself for not realizing it before.
She pays the check and then they proceed towards the venue of the concert. The place was a few kilometres away, but he didn't mind riding the bike this time. He loves the way she cuddles up onto him and she loves the way his shoulder blades seem to provide just the right amount of support whenever she leans over him. He adores the way her body massages him when she leans onto him. He finds the smell of her hair exquisite when the wind blows it onto his face. She remembers the words of Stephen Hawking (a great cosmologist of our time) -
"For millions of years mankind lived just like the animals, then something happened which unleashed the power of our imagination. We learned to talk."
She feels grateful... for the fact that she is able to talk. He is grateful... for the fact that he is able to smell... smell her lovely hair. Both are grateful... for the fact that they can taste... taste each other.
He parks his babe (the bike) in the overcrowded parking lot. She gets down. They then walk towards the entrance with his hand over her shoulder. He is tall at 6'3" and she is... not very tall at 5'4". As they are walking, he sees sweat running down the back of her seemingly fragile neck. The familiar smell of her sweat, accompanied by the stunning visual of seeing it glisten in the rays of the setting sun, seemed to be push him towards a state of mellow yet powerful intoxication... And then... he whispers something in her ear. She smiles.
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