Touch a woman you mistake for a rock and watch her melt into a fudge

Touch a woman you mistake for a rock and watch her melt into a fudge

It was the first day of my class in L'Alliance Francaise and I walked in with the notion of having to meet, greet and friendzone a few sassy opulent Girl's but much to my dismay the crowd around me were no different from my college friends. Add to the worse, my broadmindedness broke out an animosity between us and as usual I gave them a bouquet of a rare type of Botanical Flowers I call IDGAF.

Aarthi ma'am was the sweetest teacher's you could ever find! She was Fat, fair, chubby and pink painted whenever she smiled. Wait. She smiled all the time, even when she was a bit mad on us. Asking us to introduce ourselves to our new neighbour's I turned my chair to face the person behind me.. and nope I wasn't mesmerized, I wasn't in a trance, I wasn't feeling everything I should feel when an ordinary being comes into contact with something extroadinary!!. Well.. okay, dont look suprised, I did forget English, my name as well as my stance and I did feel everything I just told you I didn't feel. I mean, it isn't sane to have not felt them while facing this form, this lovely lean prodigious form sitting before you with her kiss-curls falling infront of the mascara on her eyes twinkling them like the dew of the Niagara. I smiled, I didn't know what else to do and she did the same. If you didn't know im not much of the 'conversation starter' type but as I introduced myself I also added how I already cleared the examination and am still forced to sit here, stringing a few chords of humour I made her giggle till her cheeks couldn't take it. Towards the end she told me her name was Sandhya!.

Days passed and I found her to be strong, untouchable and oblivios to her surroundings. She was beautifull and when she told me that she was an Hindu Iyer by faith/religion I connected the stereotype propaganda that clinched as an explaination to her beauty. The only thing that I assumed we had in common is the fact that we both didn't give a funk about people's minds, their thinking and the stereotypes that engulfed Chennai. She didn't take much notice about anybody, nevertheless, Me. She just smiled at me whenever our eyes met for the first time in a day. I liked it. The only person she spoke much to is her childhood friend Shilpa another sweet being 'contraire' to her in every way (except pwettyness). As I sat by them all I could hear was whispers with different genre's and all I could see was a wall that bifurcated my reality to theirs. Owh!! How I wanted to just throw my ears behind and listen to all the gossip that was going on but it was none of my business and I dare ask either of them what they were going on about. Shilpa and Aishwarya were talkable but not this Dame, not this walking opulence, not this specimen of beauty, not this slender phenomenon that called herself Sandhya.

The only time she spoke to a regular guy like me apart from giving me that faint smile which she considered self-obligatory was when she had a doubt to clear mostly in regards to translation. I really dont remember her saying a 'thank you' to any of the educational help i've offered, anyways why should she? But I did hear a thank you when I reahed out to open the door before it could smash her.. Lol I dont know for what imagination im writing this! She Got me writing. I remember asking her if she was apart of M.O.P's fashion team and was in for a shock to find out that she wasn't !! I mean what type of a union woudn't suggest her? what type of a judge woundn't be mesmerized by this autumn?.

Apart from Alliance its in her own college that I happened to see her, its for her that I wore my best kurta and later got to know that I was the only soul that did. I have a queer knact of dressing like a prince directly shot from Gujarat whenever it was someone or something special that I had to attend to else id dress like a homeless drug addict. Silhouttes of pretty Girls cavorted about all around M.O.P as host's and participants. After a sheer thread of glimpsing, I saw her. Sandhya wore a salwar kameez which, with carefull delight wrapped itself around her. Amongst all those painted lantern faces there she stood. Still the best woman in the crowd. Everyone gazed at her as much as I did, She caught a gracefull glimpse of me and again parted those lips much to my delight. As I stood there drowned in Delight, Oblivity and Mesmerism all I could recognize with much visibility was that smile which made her seem as the only Red in all the grey and white in the world. Least as I could put it, 'the only coloured silhoutte that was ever present'.

It was the eve of our first French test and by then I had concluded that I got a clear picture of who exactly she is. Sandhya as I would think, is a sassy looking gorgeous lass that paid little or no attention to anyone outside her circle with a carefree attitude towards reality. I barely even spoke to her because of that. As we celebrated the much satisfied marks we got from our test I was called to do the oral test which I missed the other day. It was an interview in which I was suppose to speak only in french and I did much to my ability. Aarthi ma'am asked me to describe my closest friends in class and unable to describe Navneeth my fellow faggot my eyes quickly fell inline to Sandhya's. After a moment of hesitation, gathering myself to the present I said 'elle est Belle'. By now I had even forgotten my french too! I quickly said 'She looks very beautifull with lovely hair and the loveliest pair of eyes'. By the time I could even complete my sentence there she was; Blushing, snuggling, smiling and melting away into a warm pelt of Oreo Frappe. I could never beleive my eyes! Is this the same strong opulent Sandhya that never threw a damn about anybody?.. Is it a mask that she wears or is it really who she is? Did it just take a pinch of my masculinity to expose a great deal of feminity in her? I was puzzled. 'So it really is true' I thought to myself, Grace Nichols was never wrong when she stated in her poem to ''Touch a woman you mistake for a Rock and watch her melt into a fudge".