It was not his ex-girlfriend,
nor his mother,
just a random woman
he once saw somewhere,
sari clad,
long hair,
radiant, laughing,
that he always thought of,
when she asked,
'what should I wear to the party?'
'Wear a saree',
he'd say,
almost without giving it a thought.
'Why don't you wear a bindi
on your forehead,
or those danglers we bought together,
the big ones!'
'Every time?'
She laughed.
Likewise,
she'd tell him,
'keep it an inch shorter,
the blazer,
why do you like it to sag?'
He'd look on perplexed.
'Oh! ho! you cut your hair,
too short again!',
she'd tell him.
'What's too short?'
And she'd close her eyes,
and see a man,
she'd once seen in a movie,
a stout, short, middle aged man.
'Too short is when
it makes you look too young!'
'What does that even mean?'
No comments:
Post a Comment