Saturday, March 15, 2014

LOVE AT HAIR SIGHT

LOVE AT HAIR SIGHT
Short Fiction - A Love story
By
VIKRAM KARVE 

From My Creative Writing Archives:
 
A Romance  which will bring a gentle smile on your lips.
 
I wrote this  love story 8 years ago, in the year 2006, after a visit to a Mall in Aundh in Pune. 

Why did I write this story? 

You read it and tell me if you liked this story...

LOVE AT HAIR SIGHT – Romantic Love Story by VIKRAM KARVE

Thunderbolt – Love at First Sight

I fell in love with her hair. 

Long, beautiful, copious, lustrous, her lush jet-black hair cascading majestically, adorning her fair and lovely body, almost down to her knees.

“Ooooooooh,” I sighed longingly, as I looked at her through the powerful binoculars, admiring her magnificent hair, feasting my eyes on her nubile body, thirstily drinking her in passionately, from head to toe, as she walked flamboyantly on Marine Drive.

I focussed, zoomed in on her face.

She was an exquisite beauty - tall, fair and freshly bathed, her luxuriant black hair flowing down her back, her sharp features accentuated by the morning sun, her nose slightly turned up, so slender and translucent, as though accustomed to smelling nothing but perfumes.

I could not take my eyes off her. I had never seen anyone so beautiful, so virginal, and so vulnerable.

“Uffffff,” I pined insatiably, my eyes locked onto her, imbibing, relishing, yearning, craving, totally mesmerized, when suddenly I was rudely shaken out my glorious reverie by vigorous hands roughly trying to grab the binoculars from my eyes and Bobby’s voice shouting excitedly in my ear, “Hey, let me see! Let me see!”

“She is too good, yaar!” Bobby exclaimed, “and just look at her hair – it’s so lovely!”

“Hey, you shameless voyeurs – don’t ogle so blatantly – if they find out you’ll be up the gum-tree!”  Aditya laughed as he entered.

“She’s really amazing, yaar! Just look,” Bobby said handing the binoculars to Aditya.

“Which one?” Aditya asked, panning the horizon.

“The tall, fair beauty with the lovely long hair,” Bobby said, pointing in her direction.

“Wow! She’s really gorgeous; just look the way she’s tossing her beautiful hair,” Aditya crooned with appreciation. Then he paused for a moment, hesitating, uncertain, and said, “I think I have seen her somewhere.”

“Where?” Bobby and I asked.

“Churchgate. I think she’s in our Churchgate branch,” Aditya said tentatively.

“What? She works in your bank?” I exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes, I think so. I will find out tomorrow – wangle some work at the Churchgate branch. She’s certainly worth a try,” Aditya said mischievously.

“Hey, you, hands off – she’s strictly mine!” I warned.

“It’s that serious, is it?” Aditya ribbed.

“It’s the thunderbolt – Love at first sight!” Bobby laughed, “You should have seen the way he was lapping her up!”

“Then we’ll have to do something, isn’t it? An intro, maybe a date! Let’s see,” Aditya promised.


Our First Romantic Date

Heads turned as we entered the restaurant. 

I felt the natural pride of possession that any man feels when he has the company of a woman that other men desire.

We sat down and talked. 

I found that she was easy to talk to. 

I experienced a strange feeling of elation. 

In these moods, there was so much to say – the words simply came tumbling out.

I told her everything about myself. 

She was a good listener. 

Time flew. 

I soon realized that she was looking at me with undisguised affection. 

There was a conspiratorial look in her expressive eyes; at once inviting and taunting, and she radiated an extraordinary magnetic allure that had me awestruck.

She knew that it was her gorgeous hair that was her piece de resistance, the quintessence of her persona, the key facet of her loveliness, her attractiveness, her exquisite beauty, her captivating aura; and she used it with enthralling effect.

She would let her silky fragrant hair fall on her face. 

Then in a most fascinating manner she would tantalizingly toss her hair back with a titivating flick of her hand, arching her eyebrows most sexily as she seductively preened her slender neck. 

I sat in front of her, mesmerized. 

I could not take my eyes off her. 

I had never seen anyone so beautiful, so irresistible, so appealing.

I was madly in love with her – her teasing eyes, her nubile body, her captivating persona, but most importantly, her gorgeous hair!


Proposal

I was so confident she would say “Yes” that I had a diamond engagement ring ready in my pocket when I proposed to her, as we held hands, sitting by the sea on Marine Drive, viewing a romantic sunset.

She said “No”.

“Why?” I asked, devastated.

“Your hair,” she said, “look at your hair – you’re already graying!”

“No,” I said firmly, “I’m sure I don’t have any white hair!”

“Yes, you do,” she said, “go home and have a look in the mirror.”

And as she said this, maybe to drive home her point, she sensuously caressed her beautiful lush black hair with her lovely hands.

That night I didn’t look at myself in the mirror. I cried, wept in my pillow, dismayed, wounded, shattered by the rejection. 

Next morning I carefully examined my hair in the mirror and found just one infinitesimal strand of gray, barely visible, which her discerning eyes had noticed, a mere hint of gray, which had spelt my doom.


Love at Second Sight

Ten years later, I ran into her in a shopping mall at Aundh in Pune. 

She looked chic.

She smiled at me and I was struck by the thunderbolt once more.

As I looked at her I felt that recognizable mingling of ineffable yearning and intense desire and I realized that even after all these years I was still desperately in love with her.

Her beauty had enhanced with age. And yes, it was still her exquisite gorgeous that was her crowning glory. 

Even after so many years her magnificent lush hair cascaded luxuriously down her sumptuous body, almost to her knees, and it was still as jet-black, lustrous and alluring as before.

And my own hair had turned almost totally gray! In fact it was mostly white, with a few black strands.

“You look lovely,” I said.

“Thanks. You have …”

“Prematurely grayed,” I completed the sentence.

She caressed her beautiful dark hair, tossed it.

“Coffee?” I suggested.

“Okay. Let’s finish our shopping first and then we’ll meet in the coffee shop at the entrance.”

She was waiting for me in the coffee shop.

“Sorry,” I said, “Cappuccino?”

“I have already ordered for both of us. Cappuccino and Black Forest Pastry – like we used to have in Mumbai,” she said.

“How come you’re in Pune?” I asked.

“Changed my job. And you?”

“Been here for eight years now. I have a place in Aundh.”

“Aundh? That’s great – I too live there – just settling in. Maybe you can give me a lift.”

We dumped our shopping bags in the rear seat and as I drove with her sitting beside me I could not resist admiring her enchanting hair.

“Hey, I’ll get off here,” she suddenly said.

“Here?” I said slowing down the car and steering left towards the footpath.

“That’s where I stay,” she said pointing to a posh building.

She got out of the car, closed the front door, opened the rear door, picked up her shopping bag, gave me a smile and wave of thanks, turned around and walked away, her luxurious hair cascading around her shapely figure like a silky waterfall.


Epiphany

“What is this?” my wife shouted from the kitchen.

“What?” I asked.

“I sent you to buy coffee, tea, spices…and look what you have brought?”

“What?”

“Hair Dye…a pack of Black Hair Color…gel…brush...a complete hair coloring kit…”

I rushed to the kitchen and saw my amused wife take out the contents of the shopping bag one by one.

“Oh My God!” I exclaimed, “She picked up the wrong bag.”

“She?” my wife asked arching her eyebrow.  

So I told my darling wife the whole story – right from the beginning – from start to finish. 

And then, my wife and me, we had a good laugh.

“You must return her bag,” my wife said mischievously. 

“She lives in Aundh. I have seen the apartment block. It will be easy to find her place. Lets go,” I said.

“You want me to come?” my wife asked, a bit surprised.

“Of course I want you to come. Dont you want to see the girl who dumped me?”


“Oh yes. I am dying to see your beautiful girlfriend with the magnificent lush “jet-black” hair. But you be careful – we dont want a rekindling of a hair-raising romance, do we?”

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. 
© vikram karve., all rights reserved. 

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All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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