Looks

Looks – Ashwin Muralidharan

Ganesh was staring at his mirror. His baldhead, acne covered cheeks, shapeless nose, big red lips, elephant ears, swollen eyes and long throat was a complete mismatch. There was nothing sharp about his features. There was nothing sharp about his life too.

“I wish I was a girl” – He said to himself.

He ignored them and rushed to board the 9:10 train at Chakala, Metro station. As usual, he sat at the window seat and started observing colours, which came alive at every stop.

Suddenly, an unusual dejavu ran across his bones. He saw a young woman who sat across his seat. Something was so familiar about her. The smell, the smile and the short hair, everything was in sync with his actions.

Who was she?

Where is she from?

Why is she here?

He kept staring at her, till the point where the women became uncomfortable and started hiding her face behind a book.

Ganesh could not handle his curiosity. He tried to start a conversation with her. Unfortunately the train stopped and she left. Everyday Ganesh had travelled through the same train and same station. He never felt this feeling before.

It was 5 pm.

He came back to his home, tossed his bag and stared at his mirror again. Now he could see a different version of himself. His cheeks were soft, his lips were rose, and he felt a dense flow of short hair on his baldhead. He pressed his palms on his chest and hip. It was different.

The hangover of the dejavu lingered longer than he thought.  He washed his face and looked into the mirror again. The same mismatch appeared back.

Hundreds of why’s popped into his brain?

Next day at the same time, he went to the same station to find the young woman. He sat at the same window seat and started observing everything. This time, there was no one. He could not control his anticipation. He stood and sat on the seat across his box. The smell, smile and short hair, everything made sense now. He got a glimpse of his past life. What he saw was a version of himself in his previous birth.

The train stopped. Ganesh came out and observed his reflection on the train glass. He let out a subtle smile and left.

He liked his looks now.

Fish-Y-Feast

Vidhya started to behave weird these days. Her silky hair, vivid outfits and witty actions can make any girl go crazy about her.  But recently, her liveliness got diminished. It was right after our previous date she acquired a strange obsession for the Mula- bridge. It’s a 90 year old bridge with a torrent of spoilt slop and mos. I was wondering why she wanted to end our romantic days with a dry sultry sunset.

To know more about her new interest I went to check out her room on a Sunday evening. I believe in the idea that to investigate the actual elf of person, you need to dig in their trash. I flipped her acer note book and checked her chrome history.

It had the links of past life regression. Her wooden showcase had bizarre books.  Unable to connect the dots, I was sliding my hands through the transparent and tranquil fish bowl.

People say, pets often resembled their masters. Symbolically, her gold fish had this other side, which resembled Vidhya. Her sudden liking for growing fishes made sense now.

Slowly connecting the dots, I got a subtle glance on what would be running inside her head. When her cuckoo clock rang 3, I went to attend my natures call. And that’s where I found the actual self of Vidhya.

She kept herself immersed in the bath tub. Tiny bubble popped and revealed a gill tattoo aside her neck.

Was she an amphibian or an overgrown fish?

Vidhya gave me a quirky smile behind the transparent layer of water. I didn’t know how to react.

Was he possessed by a fish’s soul from the bridge?

It was awkward and unbelievable like the urban legends from the pagan societies.

As my curiosity went over the brim, I left her room to check out the bridge and to get some more fish food. 

The Subtle Change

It had begun. The familiar signs alarmed him about the change. Every time when he gets comfortable, he closes his eyes and counts ten. As the countdown started, a subtle tempo of keys and strings rang a bell. It was the sound of his heart. It changes according to his situations. Like a distress call before a disaster, it indicates him about the change that is yet to come. His tunes are usually melodious, peppy and even jarring. It's the symphony of his thoughts and dreams.

The countdown stopped! Still he kept his eyes closed. Not sure of what's going to hit him next, he prepared himself to face the change. Slowly he opened his eyes to focus on the subject that appeared before him. It was a coffee mug. Filled with cream, lather and white fumes over it, it had a heavy dose of caffeine. His nostrils went for the fragrance and eyes wandered for the wonder, a velvet wonder that left a trail of its lipstick over the white texture of the coffee mug.

The dose of caffeine and the hues of colors kindled his curiosity to know who it was. He again closed his eyes and started his countdown. A quirky jazz number kept him at ease. What does this mean? Now with more confidence he saw a draping beauty slurping the coffee. As the caffeine was seeping through her throat, he quickly scanned her till down.

Eyes up! She muttered.

An awkward silence prevailed for few seconds. To escape from this embarrassment, he closed his eyes and started his count down again. This time the tempo was fast. High decibels pumped his heart at 600 horse power. When he opened his eyes, there was no one. The empty coffee mug indicated emptiness. His curiosity turned into anxiety.

For one last time he closed his eyes and started his countdown again. There was silence. It was mixed with subtle expectations. He opened his eyes and moved the coffee cup. A series of number with few alphabets below it brought a change in his face. (Smile)

It was her phone number. It said "call me".