Here I was, in front of the mirror. The bathroom mirror. Looking at my face and wondering if I looked good or not. I was taking bath, and for obvious reasons, I am nude. The pot belly has reduced in diameter, probably because of my less alcohol intake, or may be, the green tea. But still I didnt like the way I looked. I am happy with everything below the waist (no detailed description, you pervert !! :P ), but everything above it seemed to need urgent attention.
I like my shoulders, but my elbow seems to need moisturizers. The lower part of my hand seems to be too dark than the upper part. Blame it on the sun and half sleeve t shirts. And well.. the face. sigh.
I dont know why I started growing my hair. Or rather, stopped cutting my hair. I wanted long hair, for no reason. Well, I aint imitating something. People say I am imitating APJ, and Dhony (when he had long hair). I hate them saying that. Coming back to the point, it looks real ugly if I dont fix it properly. Well. let it. I aint cutting it soon.
I am happy with my nose. Except for the small, painful pimples that comes up every time i forget to wash my face. My eyes are normally discolored, and droopy, but I am fine with that. Ears.. No problem. I hardly clean it. So dont peep into my ears.
I dont like my cheeks. But nothing I can do about it. My lips either. I think its too thick. well.. Open my mouth and I see my teeth.
There is this small piece broken off my front tooth. Blame it on my anger. Every time I am angry on phone, I first bite my teeth, and then this small piece will break off off my front tooth, and then I would call the other person an A@# H%^& and then keep the phone. I save a lot of mobile bill this way, but I am losing my tooth.
I need anger management. I have been counting numbers, but that piss me off fast, because I cant count properly when in anger. I need to model my brain as a set of stupid chemicals, giving out signals to the wrong dendrites and axions when in anger.
Whew.. before I finished thinking, it seems to be working. Chemicals. Blame it on the chemicals. And not the F***ing A**h*** who is standing in front of you, who did all the wrong things.
So I did. I went to this astrologer, with my friend. I am an athiest, alright, and obviously i dont believe in these stuff. Alright again. But its fun listening to people talking about our lives. Our future, our past. To believe it or not, is not the question.
My friend was more serious than I was. He believes in it, though not a hard core believer. Anyway, the appointment was fixed, and there we were, in front of this man.
He had this typical astrologer look, clad in "bhasma" on usual places on his body. He had thick beard and moustache, but groomed. We sat in chairs, and he sat in front of us, with this wooden board, rested on a small piece of furniture. That was my first time to any astrologer, and all I know about this species of men, are from movies, mostly played by thilakan. But this one was different. The ones in movies sat on the floor, wile this one preferred a chair. Good.. Its been long time since i sat on the floor, and sitting down for long means pain.
So my friend gave the "jathakam", and the astrologer took out a set of sea shells out of this cute pouch. It (the pouch) looked beautiful. Small squares were drawn on the board, and malayalam alphabets written on the sides. He took his time to arrange the shells on different squares, and whats in store for my friend was revealled. Well, majority of what he said seemed to be true, even to me. A bright future was predicted, and now it was my turn.
I didnt have this "Jathakam" because it was not written. The time, date, etc was given and he did some stuff with the shells, and there it was -
He asked me if I was married. I said no.
And heres what he had to say, -
> My life will be straight, only after I get married
> I will have increasing debt
> I will be wandering, and will not have a fixed income
> I will have no benefit from my work, others will benefit from my business
> I might have love affairs, but I do not have to guts to marry one of them
> There is a problem with the "vasthu" of my house, which is creating problems
> My mother might fall down
> It will be difficult, for me to fix up a marriage, but I must try
> Nothing will be right until I get married
> And I have to be willing to marry so that I can get married.
hmm.. the future doesnt look bright, as I dont have any intention to get married in the near future. What he said of my current state of affairs might be true, or in fact very true. So if my future, as he predicted, is in doom, if I aint getting married, well.....
I aint scared. But I am, for sure uneasy. Things was never going straight, and it never seemed it will be straight. So I am sort of used to it. Its when a solution becomes the most difficult thing you can do in life.
Well.. Still, I am an athiest. All these things should be meaningless. But the guy did disturb my mind. My people used to believe I have a secret attachment to god, and that I might be praying in private. That I am carrying with my athiesm as a fashion. I do not care what others say about my belief, and my belief stands as strong as it used to be.
Well., of course, I aint getting married. That thought is far more scary than what can happen If i dont marry.
The woman looked good. Words might fail to express the way she looked. The skin had light tones of wheat. The hair had the warmth but felt cool and serene. The eyes were milky white, and the nose seemed to be perfect. The lips were inviting, and the body had all perfect bends. The perfect figure every man would love to look at and every woman would love to possess.
She stood near the platform, waiting for her train to come. so did the many people, who were to take the same train. She could feel all the stares and the looks caressing her face, and every part of her body. Yet she stood alone. Men roamed around her, rearranged their attire in the best way they could. No one dared to come forward and start a conversation. Inhibitions. of all sorts. The fear of rejection, the fear of insult. The fear of giving out unnatural gestures. The increased heart beat.
In came the man, he could not place his steps. The backpack looked ackward in shape, it was obvious the things inside were stuffed in in the last minute. Its been days since he touched the shaving machine, or months since he has visited the salon. The top buttons remained unbuttoned, and the chest hair stood out of the vent to get the fresh air. He smelled whiskey, it was like he was drinking all day long.
He walked slowly, down to our lady. He could not feel the difference. He could not understand the beauty either.
"howdy ??" came out of the worn out lips, tinted with alcohol breath.