And here we go again

NOTE:
I've never written anything in this genre (if it can be called that at all) before, because its really hard to get away from all oft-repeated plots and say anything new and I don't think i'll ever manage to overcome that hurdle. Anyway, here it is :)


“Why”, she asked him, forcing herself to look into his eyes with what she hoped was a penetrating stare.
“Why do you like me ? I am a smartass, and not one of those pretty babes”
“Don’t kid yourself. You’re no smartass”
“Get your eyes checked. I am not a pretty babe either”
“ I see what you want and I am not going to give it to you”

She wondered if he’d known all along. If he knew how badly she wanted to reciprocate and how badly she detested the vulnerability that always followed an admission of love, even if it wasn’t going to be everlasting. She had never been vulnerable. She’d always detested the feeling of being weak in the knees, and the giddy feeling that she’d read in umpteen romantic novels, and had heard being described by friends. She for one had never let herself go there. She’d always found a reason to “keep standing”, she told herself. Yet, somewhere inside her, she knew it was all a farce. The fact that she had to continually remind herself to stand up straight, continually remind herself to ignore the flutter of the heart when an interesting guy smiled at her told her that she was no different from the rest of them. Perhaps she was even worse. Her only consolation was that she knew the alchemist’s trick. She could always turn her heart of gold into stone.

“No, I don’t want a big romantic speech about love, if that’s what you’re thinking”
“Let’s say it was. But I’m glad you don’t want it because I hate lying”, and he smiled.
“What are you so afraid of anyway?” he asked.
“What makes you think I’m afraid of something?”
“Because I am mostly irresistible, and I’d be surprised if you found me objectionable. I’m assuming it’s my perfection that’s actually throwing you off guard”
“I’m worried about the Cupid impersonators. The kind whose arrows will only ever lead to heartbreak”
“Ah! The smartass believes in Cupid and fairies and Santa Claus”

This time she couldn’t hide it. She let herself do what every cell in her body was demanding of her. She smiled.

“I suppose you think that since you’re smart you can discern every wrong arrow from the right one. But here’s a question. What if you’re not? What if you miss the one opportunity because you weren’t willing to let go of your shield and let the arrow pierce you”
She looked up at him, wanting to run away from there. She couldn’t stand there being exposed any longer. On that bright, hot, day she felt cold, unprotected and unguarded.
“What if you lose”, he paused and then whispered “me”.
“I noticed the dramatic pause. Work at it, will you ?”, she said and started to walk off hastily.
“I’ve decided after all, to make the romantic speech”, he said, rushing after her.
“Here’s what I’d like you to think about tonight. The speeches are cliché, but perhaps it’s so because no one has really been able to answer it, settle the debate once for all, and allow it to accumulate dust somewhere. Love is a matter of the heart. Do you really think you’ll be able to dodge it with your head ?”

She walked faster, not noticing that he had already stopped following her. Why did he think he could get her simply by reading her every thought? She looked back and saw that he wasn’t around anymore. Why did he have to be right , she thought and smiled more fully this time. She truly was no different. Hurt was what she feared. Hurt was what she had never felt. She looked back again to where he last stood when she was still capable of looking into his eyes and manage to hide behind closed doors in her head. Who was she kidding? The door had always been ajar, and he had unabashedly opened it wide and had looked right through. Somehow she couldn’t tell herself to push him out and shut the door on him.

****
Dear diary,

But it never works that way does it ?
Until I know the answer, I am going to have to lock these thoughts in you. In all honesty, I’ll only be half asleep tonight, waiting for a charming lock picker to come, open you and release me.

Murmurs

She entered the large building with long strides, gripping her briefcase tightly, with a smile on her lips, facing the world straight ahead, making for the elevators in the far side of the building ignoring the escalators.

The floor was still wet. She’d long since decided it was the better of the two evils. In 10 minutes, the first crowd of people would come in hurriedly. To be lost in a crowd was now a myth to her. Wherever she went, she stood out. However tall she tried to walk, she felt other powers towering upon her. However fast she walked, she could somehow never escape. Right now there were already two people – the receptionist and the maid. Everywhere she went, the maid and the receptionst, despite their disparity in ranks, despite the need for one to look prim and proper at all times and for the other to work up a sweat, despite the fact that one needed to be available at all times and the other needed to be unheard and unseen, formed strong bonds and ended up intimidating her.

As she walked in, the receptionist looked up to see who it was that had come into the building that early, and the maid began to twiddle her thumbs because the floor hadn’t yet dried.

“Go warn her”, said the receptionist.
“Why must I ? The last time I tried, I was informed by a person that he could very well see that the floor was wet, and maids like me should be unseen and unheard”
“Don’t worry, this one seems to be the kind who always needs to be at work much before it actually opens. She looks like she is used to walking on wet floors in early mornings. See her eyes. There isn’t a hint of surprise that the building is so empty. She must be new here”
“I’d vote for her”
“She’s not running for anything”
“No, but look at the way she confidently walks with long strides, holding her briefcase tightly? She looks like she could change the world just by changing the contents of that briefcase. I’d vote for her, whatever she runs for”
“Then you better move away because she’s looking at us. You’ll vote for her, and the first thing she’ll do is make sure that maids who are seen and heard do not have jobs along with the receptionists that indulge in such activities”

What was it that they had against her, she wondered. It was with reason that she had chosen to work as a consultant. She knew her job would take her places – if not far away, then at least pretty far apart from each other. Escape that way was always imminent and comforting. Everywhere she went, she saw them standing close to each other, whispering, murmuring, looking at her, assessing her, homing into her deepest insecurities. She’d always wanted to look back and smile at them, but she was worried she’d be accused of having a condescending attitude. Often she told herself that they appreciated her. She always laughed the minute she thought that. Distorting reality was one thing. Creating a complete fairy tale out of it was quite another. Every morning she’d hear them speak softly, yet she could hear them loud enough in her head. They knew her palms were sweaty she thought. She always gripped her briefcase too tightly, concentrating on not dropping it, and her palms sweat all the more, despite the air conditioning. Slippery floors were another problem. The less time her feet spent on the floor, the less her chances are of making a fool of herself, so she walked fast, with long strides, looking straight up. As she walked, her heart flipped a beat. It did that every day and it always meant the same thing – that her world was suddenly just a little more crowded. She forced herself not to quicken her pace.

Anju walked in, smiled at the receptionist, a little more broadly than usual and continued walking, looking down at the floor. In the hazy reflection she wondered if she could see her tears. Pari walked next to her forcing herself herself to keep quiet but yet wanting so desperately to help her friend. Another bill had arrived today, Pari knew. But Anju was done with asking Pari for help and Pari knew that Anju was smiling only because of the pride she gained from standing on her own two feet – literally. Anju was glad that Pari was holding her hands right now.

“Look, I can’t keep quiet any longer. One day, you’ll make it like her. Look ahead”, said Pari.
“Sometimes it’s not even worth dreaming Pari. It really isn’t. Everytime I see someone like her, imagining that they must’ve started from the bottom like me, I get my hopes again”
“You can start by looking at world in its face – like her. See how she keeps her head up. She’s not worried what the mirror is saying to her. She’s brave enough to change her own reflection. She’s even walking alone. She doesn’t even seem to need anyone to tell her what she can and cannot be”
“Okay, don’t get excited. She might hear us”
“We weren’t saying anything wrong”
“Oh look, now she’s going towards the elevators. Walking away from us downtrodden lot, I suppose”
“I think she’s too busy with walking high up in the clouds to bother about what’s beneath it. And I assure you, that’s where you’ll be one day. Now cheer up. This month too shall pass and you’ll come out unscathed.”
“Right ! Since I’ve already reached rock bottom, I don’t need anything to break my fall. I’m already broken and broke”
“And from there, there’s nowhere to go but up”

She looked straight up, at the highest floor of the building. She gave a half hearted smile attempting to ooze confidence. Look at my eyes once, and you’ll know they’re looking not straight at you, but over you, as though you never existed. If only that were true she thought. Sea of faces, or empty places, the only place she ever looked was up, high enough to see over and above the heads where thoughts twirled and connected and somehow linked to her. High enough to ignore the stealthy looks, the miscalculated conclusions, the prejudices, high enough so that she was peaceful enough to smile. They’d only just spotted her, she thought. They were already speaking about her. What did they see at the back of her head ? Could they see, that it was such an effort to keep walking straight ahead when everything behind was intent on stopping her and observing her keenly, as thought she was a specimen to be studied in a lab? She thought lovingly about her imagined joys of suspended animation. Could they see that their whispering, that they had someone to speak to, made her painfully aware that there was no one by her side? She walked towards the elevators. Why people chose to socialize on escalators, she never understood. She preferred the closed space of the elevator. It was claustrophobic, she was told. She looked at is a warm feeling that enclosed her and protected her - a plexiglass enclosure where no one could hurt her.

“Third floor please”, said Akhila, removing her compact and the lipstick from her bag.
Tanu walked in behind her.
“I suppose since you’re taking me via the elevator today, you have something juicy to tell me”, said Tanu.
“No. I had my tooth extracted yesterday and my mouth’s paining and there’s only so much time I can spend smiling artificially at everybody.”
“What you and I need is a real smile – not smiles for occasions. What difference are we from greeting cards then”
“I used to know how to smile properly once. I spend so much time guarding myself these days that no one can every catch myself smiling quietly, to myself, in a corner”
“Here’s our lucky day. Look at the woman at the elevator opposite us. She has a very lovely smile doesn’t she ?”
“She looks like she’s on top of the world”
“Well, someday we’ll be there too. Perhaps it needs a certain altitude, a certain dizziness to be able to really let go and smile”


She looked down at the marble floor of the elevator and smiled. On the elevator opposite her, two women were chattering and smiling- certainly about her. She remembered a time when she was younger, when buildings didn’t need to have swanky see-through elevators. She adored her lone time in them. The only opaque walled elevators now were the express elevators and they were worse than escalators. She caught herself smiling suddenly. Did they reach her eyes, she asked herself. Probably not, not since a long time now, a voice replied. The elevator slowly made its way to the top of the building where she made her way into her large spacious office. It was lonely at the top, she’d been told when many times. It was her only incentive to get there. That’s the only place she felt truly on top of the world in.