Three...Seven...Seven

So we were sitting there in the palace grounds, enjoying the wind and the setting sun. I was almost-pestering him about how he needed to settle down, find someone and be all set for the lightning to strike..

That was when she walked in.

She had a very nicely etched out Indian face, sharp features and a very Indo-Gothic look. Smokey eyes, black nail polish, nose piercing. A fine blend. She walked around lazily, taking pictures of this and that, and then she saw us. Him rather. The photographer beside me was trying very hard to show that he wasn’t interested, but his eyes betrayed him each time and they kept darting back to her.

I tried coaxing him to go over and talk. But he preferred his eyes fencing with hers and adding mystery to the beautiful evening. Talking would ruin it all he said. You might be missing out on something huge, was my take. Understanding the shy American and knowing that he didn’t want to verbalize anymore I resumed talking nonchalantly about other random things, something I’m getting extremely good at…

As my curfew drew closer, we decided to wrap up the day..Picking up all of our belongings I looked at the girl who by now was engrossed in a photo shoot of her self, and willed her to come over. But she was too caught up inventing new postures and playing around with the self timer. As we walked away the two barely looked at each other and I laughed playfully, making me feel like I was in high school all over again.

But as we neared the park gates, a voice called out to us, we turned around to see her running to catch up with us. I nudged my friend and threw him the “See I told you!” look and I was happy that the girl decided to make the first move. I smiled as I saw her approach. Atta girl.

And as she spoke to us, it was obvious that I was right. There was only a small mistake though. It wasn’t him that she was interested in, it was me.