Tuesday, June 30, 2009

THE GIRL OPPOSITE DOOR: MY NEIGHBOUR

On a lazy Sunday morning, I sit in front of my desktop writing a story. Towards the left side I have, this small window and I saw this girl. She is very young. Perhaps 18-19 year old. She was wearing a salwar kameez and drying the clothes that she just washed. A beautiful girl she is!

I cannot make out her face, as the distance was very large between my house and hers. Still I felt she is dishy. More than that, what I liked was her body language. I could see there was lot of confidence in it. I was enjoying the sight. My lazy Sunday morning has become all of a sudden very active. Why is that girls always makes boys active. I kept watching her. There is an open ground between my house and hers.

A bull grazing on the patchy grass blocked my view. I cursed the bull. I could not see anything. I cursed the bull hundred times. I made a sound near the window so the bull would go.

‘Mowww.... Mowww...’ – That is the sound I was making.

The bull was at a distance from my window. I was inside the house. The bull could hardly hear me. (Wonder what if it does) However, my neighbour next house heard my moaning.

‘You need anything?’ What is wrong? Why are you peeping near the window?’

So many questions in just one shot. May be confused by my actions. Like an idiot clown, I said ‘Nothing. Hee hee' I tried to laugh but ended making a fool of myself. By this time the bull has moved. I looked through the window. However, the girl was not there. She has moved on. Sad and glum I penned a poem on her.

‘Beautiful you are like the clothes you were trying to dry...’

As I was busy penning the poem, some one knocked at the gate. I peeped through the window.

‘Shit man, the girl- she is right there in front of my gate, knocking. I immediately got up. Washed my face, tided my hair, put my favorite perfume (ZATAK), and moved on to welcome her. I checked my clothes. A tee and shorts I was wearing. It was perfect. It is important to check your dress before you go in front of any one so early in the morning especially when you are just up from the bed. What if you are not dressed? It happens in movies with heroes when they open the door in a semi-nude state. It is tolerable in movies. Not in real life, especially with me. With out anything on my long thighs, I would look horrible.

I opened the door and went near the gate. She smiled. I also tried to smile.

‘Sir I would like to take the flowers’ she said.

There is a hibiscus plant in our compound. I permitted her to take the flowers. She started plucking them. Now I observed her closely. Man she is beautiful, like Kate Winslet of Titanic.

‘Beautiful’ I said.

She heard me. ‘What?’ she asked.

I controlled myself. ‘The flowers they are beautiful’ I said. She did not say anything.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked

‘What?’ she asked again.

‘The flower- what is it called?’ I changed my question.

‘It’s Hibiscus’ she said.

Her voice was sweet. Then she said something that baffled me.

‘Are you not Sreekumar?’

My eyes popped out of its socket. Horry shit, how does she know my name?

‘Yes’ I said

‘You are an author, aren’t you?’ she asked

Now that is funny. Nobody knows that I write. Not even my family members. Except a few friends at my club in mocha...

‘Aren’t you that famous author?’ she asked again

The word famous made it funnier. I am not a published author and have never published any of those good for nothing stuff. I thought my foot was going an inch up in air because of all those praise.

‘How do you know I write?’ I asked her

‘I follow your personal blog. I liked your poem ‘Dusk and Dawn’ she said

Oh good, I thought. At least I have a fan. That too in a girl. Moreover, this girl at the opposite door, my neighbor made it more soothing. She finished collecting her flowers. She looked at me. I looked at her. She smiled. I was totally swept. I remember I use to stalk her and her house since the days I have seen her. A very bad habit, I know. But could not help myself. The next question of the girl completely shocked me. She asked with the flowers in her hand, ‘Can I come in?’ This was something I did not imagine. You like the girl; you trail her, all that is okay. However, if a girl opens up straight, a boy never likes it. She saw my hesitation.

‘It’s ok. I just want to see your writings.’ she said I did not like it, but thought she would mind if I say no. Therefore, I allowed her.

We came in. Only we two. There was no one else at home. My desktop is in my bedroom. So we went in. She kept the hibiscus flowers on the desktop table. I opened my folder and showed her everything. Poems, short stories, essays, articles and the latest book that I am working on. She liked it gave me useful comments. I have never showed up so many things of mine to anyone like this. While showing my works and discussing it, my hand touched her hand. They were smooth. I wondered anything more would happen like in all those movies. I think our bollywood heroes are luckier. She was surfing on more of my works. I went a bit close to her. I observed her face. Very fresh, very fair- like milk, like an actress.

Her eyes were beautiful like SONAM KAPOORS. Her aquiline nose was like PRIYANKA CHOPRA. Her lips like DEEPIKA PADUKONE. She is sexy and sultry like BIBASAH BASU. A beautiful charming angel is sitting next by to me. I am the luckiest guy in the world. I could not take it any more. I closed my eyes for about five seconds. I opened my eyes and observed her again. The charm and every thing have vanished. The girls face was looking more serious. Her fair complexion has changed red in colour. I could not understand what was happening. I looked into the monitor to figure out what was she reading. It was a story on ghost that I had written some time ago. I tried to hide my laugh. She is getting scared reading it. My writings definitely have an impact.

‘Do you like ghost stories?’ I asked

‘Do you like?’ she short back looking into the monitor.

‘Yes’ I said

She turned her face towards me. ‘You like?’ she asked

I bent my head twice saying yes.

‘How about seeing a real ghost?’ she asked

‘I like that too’ I said, though I was sure I would pee, the moment that happens.

The girl bent her head and lifted it up. Then she got up from the chair and said; ‘I am a ghost.’

I caught my stomach and started laughing. But there she was, her face and expression changed. Sonam kapoors beautiful eyes disappeared. It turned coal red. There was no aquiline nose of Priyanka chopra. Only a hole. No lips of Deepika padukone, only sharp biting teeth’s. No sexy body like Bipasha Basu- but skeleton of bones. Her soft hand that I had touched was not there. She laughed horribly and it echoed in my bedroom. The girl opposite door: my neighbour is a ghost. All of a sudden, she just disappeared.

‘Aahhhhhhhhhhhhhh..................’ I yelled and fell of from my chair.

I woke up. I was lying on my cot. It was a lazy Sunday morning. I looked at my desktop. The monitor was off.

‘Thank god, it was only a damn dream.’ I said to myself

I sat on my chair and peeped through the window. I looked at the house of the girl next door. There was no one there. My next neighbour observed me and asked ‘What are you looking at?’

‘Nothing’ I said and smiled. I was relived a lot. I switched on my desktop. I thought of the dream and my foolishness in getting unnecessarily so scared. After all ‘Illusion is the creation of mind and fact is the invention of wisdom.’

Then I saw something on the desktop table.

There was a bunch of hibiscus flowers.

****



“DO NOT GO BY THE STORY. IT IS A TRUE EXPIERENCE. WHAT?... I AM ONLY TELLING THE GIRL OPPOSITE DOOR: MY NEIGHBOUR IS NOT A FANTASY. SHE IS REAL AND I OBSERVE HER EVERYDAY.



1 comment:

  1. Well writte. Good story. BTW where have all our writers and critiques gone?
    We need not be scared of ghosts because anyway we are also to become ghosts one day or the other. The merciful God has sent down each one of us with a death warrant; only that we do not know the date. (Kafka calls life a Trial, the verdict of which has alraedy been pronounced, and therefore meaningless!) also, ghosts never kill because if you die, you will also become a ghost and then you can avenge the ghost that killed you.

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