I saw her go across the street and sit down on the pavement. I was waiting for the husband,but at this point..I couldn’t care any less, and with an asinine trance,I traced her footsteps. Tattoo that read ” Freedom” inked across her forearm,just glistened . Much like it had its own personal halo radiating. Oh.. Maybe that was her eyebrow piercing.
I maintained a good perimeter of a difference,where I could see her and yet not intrude. I wasn’t a stalker,I was but intrigued by her demeanour. She wore her hair ” blood red with highlights of platinum blonde”. Her eyes were caramel and her lips a goth black. Her nails were painted yellow with ” Devil” written on it. Her distressed jeans were an acid wash blue. Her tank top a distressed greenish black one.Her fingers were adorned with silver rings,her hand filled with baubles.
Her backpack,a reflection of who she thought she was,slangs,unintelligible scribbles,blotches of color, the trident( don’t understand if it was the trident of Poseidon or Shiva or the trident of the devil) I didn’t get it… I know she cared.. She cared about moulding a certain image of herself.. That’s why she went ahead and constructed a wall and put a billboard on it,shouting ” I’m different”.. She has sparked,whiffed up and engendered a pot of boiling controversies. Let me remind you,we are in India.. Things still are regressive. We love girls to be dainty and girly..Well,we only accept them like that.. Hmmmph!!!
She looked at me and she frowned. I had to look away… ” Goodness me.. I oughta have never looked at her,let alone follow her here”
She violently picked her backpack up.. Dusted her worn out and distressed jeans.. She squinted her eyes.. She took steps towards me.. Her eyes peered with suspicion. * gulp*
” Oh no!! Now she’s coming at you.. Noorain,what the hell are you gonna tell her,you’re so screwed.. Is she gonna punch the living day lights off you??Is she gonna cuss??? You hate all that…,where the hell is that husband of yours when you need him the most?”
I stood,with a bout of dialogues getting scripted in my head. I was thinking up something smart to evade her… How I wish I had a skunk… Or at least,a skunk power???( Squirt,and she runs in the opposite direction)
” Noorain you don’t even have your phone handy,so that you can feign that you were preoccupied with something else.. Darn it, you don’t even have a coffee handy.. Ok.. Ignore,just ignore..”
” Hey girl!!” Says she… And I know she’s talking to me,yet I act surprised and look around and say ” who me??”…
My ” who me??” Was the most nonchalant “who me??” ever to grace on this Earth..
“Yeah sweet thing,I guess this is yours!” And she picks up my debit card from the ground and hands it over to me.
” I saw you drop it,and you took no heed to it… You gotta be careful babes,there are a bunch of weirdos out here,and not every time will someone return things to you,btw…my name’s ****, take care!!” And she wandered off into the chocked streets.
I just muttered a bewildered and a distraught ” Thank you”.. I couldn’t have been ashamed anymore.
She is a rebel,rebelling against the pandemonium of the so called acceptable normalcy.
She is a rebel,rebelling against a united opinion..which she thinks is wrong.
She is a rebel,rebelling against not you( spare the wishful thinking,that you are ever so important to her),but against herself to find who she really is.
Hypocrites are we,who base opinions on a person’s physical appearance,colour,race and qualifications and not on who they really are.
Look beyond that… blur the borders of appreciating or degrading this clay urn,you call a body… Focus on the intangible part of who you really are.. Your soul..
My husband came within seconds of her disappearing,and almost as if to wash away or clean my thoughts.. It started raining. Raining so heavily, yes.. My thoughts were cleansed off prejudice..
[[* hats off* to my dear rebel, who just twinkled in a page of my life,but very staunchly left her mark behind.. ]]