It’s drizzling. The trees are happily swaying against the wind but I’m quite irritated – because I’m half wet from the rain and my umbrella couldn’t protect me completely. It was raining heavily a few minutes ago. But now it’s only drizzling, thank God.
I’m thinking how I’m going to make my way across the muddy puddle without coming in way for the vehicles passing by. I look up for a moment. That’s when our eyes meet. I think can hear the thunder, followed by a bolt of lightning. But hasn’t the heavy rainfall stopped?
His messy hair is damp, even though he, too, is carrying an umbrella. I suddenly feel like running my hands through his hair and continuing doing so until it’s no longer messy. And just standing there with my hands on his face and looking at him for a long, long time. There’s definitely something wrong with me.
OKAY. It’s about time I stop looking at him and just keep walking. But I can’t. I just can’t tear my eyes away from his. I wonder why he’s looking at me with the same intrigue. There’s something there.
Oh my god. Now he’s walking towards me. Quick, look away. Look away. LOOK AWAY. Find something else to look at!
Okay, now I’m just staring blankly at that horrible brown puddle. Great.
“Excuse me,” he says. His voice is rough, maybe he too is annoyed by the rain, but it has a kind and a gentle undertone – as if he (call me crazy) fancies me. “Are these your sunglasses?”, he’s holding a gold rimmed black glasses. Yes, they’re mine, registers my brain.
“Yes, they’re mine…”, my speech dumbly mirrors my brain. I want to say something more. Like “Would you like to have coffee with me? Would like to let me run my hands through your hair?”
“… You left it in the stationery store. So I came running after you to give it to you. I thought you’d need it, especially in this weather… ” he says, with an amused smile. So yeah, he’s laughing at me. For carrying sun glasses on a cloudy, rainy day.
“Oh, haha, thanks, but try cracking a better joke next time” I say defiantly, but with a hint of sheepishness; and start walking away. I couldn’t think of a better comeback, because really, there was no need for the sun glasses in this weather.
Now that I’m walking away, I feel better. Like everything’s under control. But I did feel an instant ‘connection’ with this guy. And I know he did, too. It’s one of those things – you just know.
But there’s no point thinking about it now. I’m walking away. This is it. It’s over before it could even start. Should I have asked for his number? I should have. What should I do now? What should I do? I’m walking away from someone who could be my future husband. (What? Husband? Slow down there, girl.)
I can hear him hailing for a rickshaw. Now it’s definitely over. He’s leaving, too.
“Excuse me, miss!” And I know it’s him, without having to look back. My heart does a little cartwheel.
“I’m going towards the mall. Could I drop you somewhere in between, you know, only because I want to compensate for my ‘bad’ joke?” he asks. I can sense he’s really counting on me saying ‘yes’, even though he tries his best not to show it. He’s got very contagious smile.
“Oh, uh, sure. My house is just across the mall, actually.” I say, matching his toothy grin.
And now there’s definitely thunder and lightning. Only, now I know it’s not the weather.