Up The Hill And Into The Heart

 

Image Courtesy – Shrestha Sharma

I seldom come across moments when I’m intoxicated at a gaze, and for some reason she finds a connection when she’s looking into my eyes as well. October this year, my friend and I, travelled to Pondicherry, to enjoy the sea, the liquor and some French cuisine. Grad school, had been taxing and some sea food was all that we were looking forward to. The first few days made us very happy. From sorting delicious fillets of fish to drinking wine, Pondicherry was turning out to be the trip we had expected it to be.

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Breakfast like Kings.

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The next stop had to be Auroville. This place was mysterious, a spiritual self sufficient village which took us to another realm with its sophistication coupled with its simplicity. People of more than 40 nations live in the village. The path to enlightenment did not require us to infect our bodies with intoxicants, rather, meditation and a heart filled with love for others did the trick. And that is what happened later that day. A heart that only wanted to love someone deeply and unconditionally wanted to exist. Not infatuation, but love.

On our way, back, we wanted to go downhill, either on a bicycle or by foot. The nearest bus stop was 11 Kms away, and for some reason, neither of us wanted to pay for the distance, so we took off walking. We wanted to enjoy the ‘trip’. When we reached around 1/4th of the way, we found the entry to the village, and while others were going in, we were walking past the wooden fencing. A small road, led to a checkpost which entertained guests on bicycles as well. You could see people of each and every race, either driving in, or pedalling their way up the hill into the village. 

We went further down the hill to find people walking up. And that is where I saw her. The only one in the vicinity to walk with her bike along side her. She had a satchel styled bag across her. She had glasses on, and she was Caucasian. I had never seen such a beautiful, gorgeous and captivating smile (For the 3 days I was there.)

She was looking at me. Or At least I thought so. She winked, pointed at her bag, which had a water bottle on the side of it, to which I nodded, given I already had water with me. Her hair, moved with the air, fell on her lips. She blew them off her, face, laughed, and walked past her. I almost wanted to say ‘Thank You’, but the words stayed in my mouth. And I continued down the path. After a 2 minute hiatus, a smile appeared on my face, blushing would be an understatement, but I blushed pretty prominently.  I turned around to my friend, and was about to ask him, when he suddenly replied ‘Yes, she was checking you out!’

I looked back, far into the distance, and I could still see her bag, walking with her red bicycle. There was a huge Italian flag symbol, on her bag, and I guess that’s where she was from. But I was frozen, I couldn’t muster the courage to walk upto her and ask her out. But then again, how can you write when you have a happy ending ?

It might not have been a storybook finish, ending in each other’s arms, and a few passionate kisses, but it surely did leave a bold impression on my heart, for me to write about it 2 months later. To the girl I met – If by any chance, you’re reading this, ‘ I believe, you are a gem, and you should never shy away rom smiling. You make their day, with just your positivity and gorgeousness.

Adios.
Pretty Woman.

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