The Pale Yellow Girl

It was just another day - a day with heaps of work increasingly piling up on my head and the clock tickling away with the speed of light. Fortunately its friday and time to go home. Sometimes I like to boast about how exciting it is to travel via trains. I tell this to my non-mumbaikar friends, who listen to me curiously and promise to plunge into this adventure whenever they happen to be in this city 'Mumbai'. But on other daysI wish to have some genie who would bring me back home from office in a flick of time. Today I don't want that genie because I have 'Paulo' in my bag. Hey, shed that confused look from your face. I am talking about PAULO COHELO, the extraordinary writer who weaves magical webs with words. I am in love with the 'author' and with 'author' I mean his work.

Like every other day I preferred my one and a half hour train journey by sticking to 'Paulo', the book.After finishing up 'Eleven Minutes' in exactly 11 X 2 days, its Zahir's turn now. As rightly said pain is pleasure, so I am standing(pain) and chewing each sentence of the book(pleasure). I meet all kinds of people in train.

The smiling ones = just smile if you happen to look them in the eye
The sadists = with the sad and dying facial expressions
Worker bees = busy doing their knitting work
The Add-ons = have too much of style and attitude to match with their designer clothings
The Chatter boxes = God only knows what gossiping they do
The fighters = peace be on them, they could burn you with one single look (be aware)

Since I travel alone in peace with a subtle look, I can't belong to the last three categories. So with the mood comes the diversions and there comes the right expression.

Here is the story about a pale yellow girl whom I met in my adventurous train journey. Today I am wearingthe first form. Indeed I have a bright smile on my face. I am happy because I wish to be.There I saw a delicate structure standing just in front of me. I happen to look directly in her eye.I smiled and since its contagious she gave me a stunning bright smile back. Later I realised she was goodat hiding her feelings. I could see tears in her small chinky eyes but amazingly she mastered the art ofputting a plastic smile on her small round face.

There were several exchange of smiles and she kept wiping her eyes while hiding them beneath thin glasses.She looked like an angel to me, an angel in trouble. What could be the reason of her tears? A heart-breakor bad grades in exams or someone hurted her...Umm its awful when you dont get answersThings kept accumulating in my head and my thoughts drifted from the book to her.I realised my dream, a dream of making somone's day. The plan which struck my mind shortly needed some directions.

Me: Do you have a cellphone?
She: Yes, I have.(A questioning cum suspicious look)
Me: Can I have your number?
She: Why, why do you want it?
Me: I will call u up and tell you reasons?(the only stunning answer I could come up for that huge 'why' in that tiny time)
She: I want to know it now.

Oh! I am successful with that plan. Her features were expressing exactly what was going in her mind.I could read every bit and piece of it. There was a sense of pride because she assumed me to be some kind of criminal who will steal her cell the moment she discloses the number.That is very common here. You become suspicious only for those people who try to be polite to you.Like I always say "The only predictable thing about human is that they are unpredictable..."

Again she asked me the reason and I questioned back with an unusual answer like if she was having second thoughts? To which she only replied, its not about second thoughts.Within the next few moments I got engrossed in my 'Paulo'. But I could see all from the corner of my eyes.Mixed emotions were running across her delicate features. A confused look that depicted the curiosity and need for answers to all her questions. She was scared about what would have happened if she would have disclosed her number. But as she didn't there was a sense of pride of saving herself from falling into troubles. What humans need? A self motivation! How do they get this? Whenever they accomplish some extraordinary task.

The conversation ended, but I am happy. Who wanted the number? Who wanted to find out why she is crying?My mission was to distract her from whatever was on her mind. I know its quite a stupid thing to do but I did accomplish my dream in the end. In the midst of strict schedules, the pale yellow girl will remmember me. So will I. Once again I got a topic to suffice my poetry hunger... something crossed my mind - Pale yellow, Little fellow