TotaLLy TaBoO Paaart- 3

NIMISH:

Everytime Preksha smiled, his heart jumped for joy. He knew she was married and thought her husband was an insensitive asshole. How could any man bear to see, or even see, let alone be the cause of...those lovely eyes sad.

When Preksha was sad, or happy, you could see it in her eyes. Anything she was feeling, was clearly there for everyone to see. She never really bothered to hide her feelings, probably not the best thing to do or the most tactful. But she was honest. And it was just as well no one really bothered looking into anyone's eyes anymore. Those eyes could speak volumes and he could read forever. Sometimes, words were not needed. When he first saw her, in the office, there were no fireworks. There were no songbirds chirping around his head or violins stringing their songs.

Truth be told, He didn't even take a second look.

It was only a few months into the job, that he noticed her. She was always, always alone.

She ate her lunch alone, took her coffee break alone, she rarely talked to anyone regarding anything outside of work. And her eyes, behind her glasses, were sad. Flirt he maybe, in the office...but it never went beyond that. She wore shapeless clothes, designed to camouflage her figure. There was always something wrong about her person. A stain on her dress, a button missing, an old pair of shoes, never any jewellery. Sometimes she wouldn't comb her hair. She had lovely hair, a stunning mass of thick black waves which she never left loose. Once he chanced to see it when he entered the coffee room. She had unpinned it and was massaging her temples and nursing a cup of espresso...and obviously a terrible headache. Somedays she would wear the same outfit two days running. And then one day, he noticed her crying. The entire time she was at work. No one noticed. She didn't bawl like a baby, but it was just, quiet tears. Drip, drip. Wipe. Drip and discreet wipe. She never wore makeup so smudging it was not a problem. She spent two hours out of eight in the coffee room. Crying. When he asked her if she was OK, she didn't answer. She had never looked this sad in all those months. He was worried. It didn't matter to him that no one else noticed. The world was callous. He wondered what could be so wrong...maybe a fight with her husband...correction, a huge fight. She looked low everyday anyway. He wondered what would help.

Perhaps a flower.

A daisy...they were so cheerful. Bright yellow centres, bound to make you smile. A note, telling her to be happy. At least she would know someone was there to talk to.

She came back the next day. They became friends. And then a month later, more.

It was two months later that she told him, his small gesture had saved her life. Literally.

She took much better care of herself now. Always well dressed, polished, more importantly, bearing a smile that reached her eyes. She stunned the office the next day...she had been hiding behind a wall, afraid of looking good...being her best. And no one cared to see beyond her fine features. No one saw beyond the obvious, beyond sometimes...flashy.

Turned out she was all that too! Who knew?!

He loved taking care of her. Sharing his lunch with her. Eating her delicious lunch. She was an excellent cook, there was no doubting that. Getting her coffee, taking walk breaks. Being her friend. Bringing her back to life.

He wondered how her fool of her husband failed to notice the death of their marriage...how little he cared...? What could be more important than putting a smile on the face of your beloved? Putting money in your bank account? Which was more important, more essential to life...? Food on one's plate, or joy in one's heart? What was the point of a full belly and tearful eyes? The combination makes life worthless.

When he took her out on dates, and just took her hand, her eyes glowed with happiness. It seemed all she wanted, was an acknowledgement, that she was loved...perhaps it was that acknowledgement that had gone out of her marriage. Often happened. She spoke about her husband, but never mentioned his name. That would have brought him to life, as if he wasn't a glaring light in their relationship as it was.

She spoke of him in a remniscent manner, as if he was no more. In a sense, He wasn't. He wasn't the man she'd married. Or the one she'd fallen in love with. Or the one who promised never to be the cause of a tear in her eye. Or the one who promised to take care of all her problems, anything that fell into her lap. The one who promised never to take her for granted or try to change her. Never to restrict her in anyway. To listen to any and everything she said. It was another thing that she didn't say much.

"Har koi pyaar ke liye bhookha hota hai, usey jahaan bhi pyar milta hai, chala jaata hai." [Everyone is hungry for love, whereever they get it, they go.]

That was the only reasonable excuse to justify what they were doing. Their relationship. What it was worth, was something only they knew and understood. They didn't feel the need to justify themselves to anyone. There was no point. She had no friends and he...well he did have a few close friends...only one of whom was married...a gym buddy of sorts. He'd never met his wife...he talked about her a lot, but never took up Nimish's suggestions for a get together...maybe he was embarassed by her...maybe she was fat or ugly... Even he didn't know. Nimish wondered why marriages went this way...perhaps he would ask Rajat.