Skip to main content

Some friend 3


The first time I saw him, I was petrified. His aura clanged to my nerves and won’t let go. The clean-cut hair with its deceiving hairline made in the trendiest fashion made him resembles some sort of model for a shampoo add. The deep sunken eyes carried the late long hours of concentration and the genuine happiness for whatever it caught. The dark thin eyelash hid the little know fact of his late-night parties. His aquiline nose made him resembles so much like the cruel birds hunting their prey, yet the rosy cheeks and perfect white teeth condemn just the opposite. One look at the chubby nose and you’d be unnerved to unfold all the secrets underneath it.

An olive complexion broad should fell in the thin waist that gave rise to his long, slender legs. A man at ease, he knew exactly what needed to be done. When those loafers moved to the rhythm of the Rolex that was fastened in his hands, it was as if the cupid descended the earth. The rising and falling chest could not easily hide the fact that there was a beautiful heart that lay inside it that was filled with embraces for every other being. The well-built muscular arms and the quick fingers mocked with anything and made it look so effortless. But one dago at it and you’d know your place. The built manly figure made him look like an adult but the jet-black pupils still hold childlike youthful spark energy radiating in his eyes. A child by heart, any thing that raised to his ears was rhythm to him and the words he spoke was melody to mine. Some other time I would have liked to think that the bi wide hands could do wonders to my body but now fully dressed he was a mirage for anyone wanting to unravel him.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nancy Drew: My hunger for mysteries

I picked my first Nancy Drew novel in Grade 5 and instantly was obsessed with this little girl going around finding clues and unfolding secrets I could only dream of. I tried to do the same, however, staying in a hostel I could barely afford a lawyer father who would give me cases. Regardless, our assumptions were limited to Jujuman, the hostel ghost, and we used to snoop around in his abandoned car in front of the music room. We would sit there after dance and music classes and look at the old car. Although no one had the courage to go inside, we were very curious and so started investigating the mud around the area. This novel made me realize my hunger for mysteries and quests. It also help form a deep connection with my best friends where we would establish an informal book club. It also developed my habit of reading where gradually I shifted from Nancy to Nora Roberts to Dan Brown to Sidney Sheldon and Jeffery Archer books. One major thing I learned is: She starts from a clue and s...

Loved the red sea

 (This is purely fiction and please don't report this to my parents ;p) .. My fantasies were coated by perfect men from books who spoke perfect words to flow the hem of my skirt and the strings of my heart. These men knew every poem ever written and every fairytale ever told. These men loved children and respected women. These men were crafted from a woman's pencil. I longed for these men. Painful to realize a real man is made of dirt and dust. They are made up of rhythmless tunes and mismatched words. They are clever yet need help to understand their feelings. They make me grip my hair and groan in distress. I could never find a prince of books. Then I got a man. Perfect at see but flawed at saw. These hip of imperfections could not match my dreams. Mismatch at its finest. 1 don't want to see but I observe and am curious. Who is this? Who is he who dreams of me? One of his kind, I dare say. The open arms invite me and hug me so tight, it's difficult to breathe. Actions...

Deteriorating state of Model UNs in Nepal

‘I’m gonna look the prettiest.’ I thought to myself as I joined my first Model UN which was happening in my school and was hosting a lot of other school students as well. I pulled off a red saree with a golden shimmer border and an ounce of foundation on my face. With coal-like kohl smeared on my eyelids, I went to my first MUN dressed up to kill anyone who’d endanger themselves by glancing my way.   The results of my laborious effort to put collateral damage to the MUNers were void. Nothing happened. Other than dancing at the Motion of Entertainment, I received rarely any second glances. It hurt to realize that I was just another pretty face there. At the end of the three days, I realized the privilege the out-spoken people received; the spotlight which shone on them. Not the prettiest one but the boldest one. It was surprisingly settling to think about how I don’t have to worry about cakey concealer again or the hair on my arms. You could still be the center of attention as...