For people who do not know already or have visited this page for the first time, let me tell you guys that I travel a lot, like four hours everyday within the city.
Considering I'm always using the public transport, I happen to meet a lot of people. Keep bumping into the same people all the time who happen to be in the metro/bus same time as me every day. And I've got reasons to believe that this must be quite a common phenomenon with most of us.
I've also got reasons to believe that all the girls reading this post must have their own story of a boy who was a stranger but still remains memorable. Like boy in the coffee shop. Boy in the bus. Boy in the mall. Well, so this is my story about the boy on the metro.
FYI, I'm usually at my defensive best when travelling alone. I deliberately put up that expression which screams don't-ya-dare-mess-with-me for people who can't help themselves but pass lewd comments or follow young, pretty things for no reason. Ain't I modest? **chuckle**
I'm usually the kind of girl who would be walking unusually fast, almost running (coz I'm always late), carrying a REALLY big bag, looking serious or talking to myself as I walk. Not the perfect mental picture for a "pretty young thing". Ain't it. It was already dark when I left college yesterday and it was still 5.30 pm in the evening. Winters, I tell you. So, I once again assumed that fierce, strong-girl exterior and headed to the metro station.
By the time, I reached upstairs, the metro was already stationed there with it's doors about to be closed. And hell, I was still on the escalator slowly approaching the platform. I dashed towards the metro, frantically running on the escalators and managed to squeeze in the metro, with the doors closing just behind me.
I smiled and congratulated myself. Doesn't matter, that half of the compartment filled with most of whom what seemed like "middle-aged people" returning from office were already looking at me. I thought what they must be thinking, "Oh, these youngsters who do not have enough patience to wait for five minutes till the next metro but will obstruct the closing of doors" and other shit.
I chuckled at the thought and looked searchingly in the compartment for a seat. Seriously, with all the running, I could use some space to sit. God Bless the person who invented "Seats reserved for Ladies". I saw a young boy sitting there....and again I went "Oh boy, that's my seat, get off it" in my mind.
So, I simply went and stood in front of him. Clever boy, He understood the hint, looked back and saw the sticker behind him which said, "Only for Ladies" and politely got up, offering me his seat which I gladly accepted.
That is, when at the next station, I saw him. I saw him standing on the platform even before he got in and thought to myself "Aw,, that guy is HOT". The train stopped, and he got in my compartment. "Great", i thought.
As I was contemplating why I had been fixating on this stranger, I realized he had sat down next to me.
In the empty seat that had cleared out.
For the woman who had gotten on at the last stop.
The woman was still standing there.
WHY DID YOU NOT SIT DOWN???? I mentally screamed at her.
Ok, this is not good. The boy I had nearly drooled over was SITTING NEXT TO ME.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
What now? Stay calm. Stay. Calm. Caaaaalm.
I tried not to look uncomfortable and just to play it safe, started looking in the other direction. But I could almost feel his shoulders touching mine and I was freaking out. And sweating. In Winters. Weird.
I hope he doesn’t notice. I snuck a look at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed completely oblivious to my existence. Well, he’s probably too cocky to even consider me to be in the same league as him. Although I usually don’t care much about appearances, my pride was slightly hurt at the thought of this. I mean, I know I don’t look like a model, but I can look decent when I want to. And today, I looked fairly decent - at least, I thought so. I mean, I was wearing purple, and I only wear purple on days when I actually colour-coordinate my outfit. So there. I was looking decent today, and yet I was totally invisible to him.
Argh, stop it pink. I’m sure he’s used to girls tripping over themselves to get his attention and I am NOT going to be one of them. I REFUSE to be a silly giddy girly-girl who swoons over pretty boys!
Wait.I am a silly girl. I am just not a girly girl and I definitely, DEFINITELY do NOT SWOON OVER BOYS. And he would definitely, DEFINITELY not be interested in a girl like me. His girlfriend is probably tall and skinny, with long tanned legs and wavy, dark brown hair, and big eyes with long eyelashes…
Before I knew it, I was picturing his supermodel girlfriend.
No, he probably has more than one supermodel girlfriend. A guy like him definitely has someone on the side. Probably two. Or three. Or four.
Then, suddenly he threw something, trying to be incognito but I noticed..
What?! Did he just litter INSIDE THE METRO?
Ok, now I am not a freak about littering or anything, but I don’t throw garbage out of moving vehicles either. I was not impressed. So I snuck a (what I hoped to be distasteful) look at him. But before I could deliver the full distaste-look, something in his lap caught my eye.
A pack of cigarettes.
Now we have a litterer and a smoker. And a (possibly) major player. This just keeps getting better and better.
I turned away and looked out the window. I am so over this guy, I thought, which made me smile because I had fallen for the guy in less than a second, then gotten over him before the metro ride was even over. I am SO good at this “swearing off boys” stuff.
See pink, this is good, this is what you want. Boys like him make you feel insecure and disappointed and not good enough. Without the baggage of swooning over every pretty boy that walks by and wondering if your hair is in place, you’re so much freer and you can smile stupidly and not care who’s looking at you strangely or whether that’s a flattering look for you.
I was proud of myself.
We ended up getting off at the same stop and I almost skipped off , feeling extraordinarily rah-rah power-to-the-women / who-cares-if-I-don’t-look-like-a-supermodel-I’m-still-beautiful-on-the-inside. But I allowed myself a glance at him as I walked away, because I wanted to see, from the perspective of my girl-power self, whether I would still swoon like I did when I first saw him getting in the metro.
And, maybe the heat had gotten to my brain and was making me see things, but when I glanced over at him, I caught him looking at me as we parted ways. And I grinned.
Good things happen when you meet strangers. ~ Yo Yo Ma