A young teacher joined the staff at the school that year and most predictably the boys crushed on her. She was an accomplished academic in Economics, and that she had chosen to join the staff at that modest school was a topic of much discussion amongst the older men lounging in their porches watching their courtyards bake in the afternoon sun while school was still in session. Most boys were charmed by her reluctant smile and waif-like appearance, but there was one amongst that crowd of many who was completely smitten by her. Unfortunate as it was, she wasn’t assigned to any of his classes though he saw a lot more of her than the others. It pricked him at most times that unlike many who watched her at work, he was sure to listen to what she had to say.
The rest of them fought primal urges to hoot and whistle as she walked into the school compound and broke into impromptu debates if she looked better that day than she did the day before. There might have been an improper joke or two but he never heard any for he was simply elated to catch a glimpse of her for one more day. She had engaged him in friendly chit-chat one time in the staff room as he waited for another teacher and he did his best to seem witty and funny as he usually was but when he went home that evening he was unsure of what she thought of him if she did indeed think of him. Tall and gawky, he wasn’t much to look at; but O! there was so much he could tell her. So much more than silly jokes and poorly fabricated tales of false bravado.
He would tell her about how he loved her coffee black eyes and that way her lashes fluttered every time she smiled. He would tell her about the times he could tell she was smiling even when she wasn’t looking his way, and how despite her demure, delicate countenance, she always took charge with ease. If she would only allow him that opportunity, he would also tell her about words that remained unknown to him, in that time before when he had first seen her. And there were a great many other things that he wished to say, but she never had the time to listen and one day it was time for her to leave as she had found someone to script for her, a story of her own to say.
Many years later, he stood in the golden white light of the central lobby in a swanky hotel. Dressed in his best suit, sporting an impressive Rado and few flecks of gray at his temples, he let out an impatient sigh. He was about to make his way back to the elevators when a soft, surprised voice called out his name. Either of them was too shocked to react until a strange man on her left stuck out his arm with a muted introduction. Warm smiles, nods and polite chuckles were traded all around. He saw how her smile did not light up her eyes like it did those many years ago. He saw how it was hard to see her smile even at times when she did. And then there was the girl, his woman, his wife, standing beside him, gripping his wrist, flashing him her broad unapologetic grin and it was time for him to take leave. The young teacher parted her lips as though she had something to say- to someone who was likely to listen- but by then he was gone, as it was his time now, to go away.
_V. 28-04-2016
Righting Writing 