It was 5 a.m, but I am feeling colourful and alive. Though it was high time I got some sleep, messing around with hair colour was just what I did next. Three hours of waiting, since I wanted the brown to be a lil more rooted and rustier than usual I hit the showers. The water, which was almost hot to a boiling point, felt as if it was sinking right through my skin & diluting with my blood with ease coz my mind was slowly absorbing the ecstasy the body was emitting, everything looked larger and the white tiles around me looked brighter.
Flashes of a series of incidents that took place last Wednesday were combining themselves together and were now teasingly replaying itself over and over again as if from inside my eyelids, that I dared not open my eyes lest I lose a single precious moment. The water boat & banyan boat rides in Deira, the sun scorching my skin from one side while the wind trying to fight the heat from another, the smooth business meeting which left me with more hope than I ever had for the past one and a half years (clumsy as I am, I spilled half the glass of water which was placed in front of me half way through the presentation, I wish I could erase the memory, though it seems impossible), and finally seeing him after ages and feeling nothing, but joy which deflated to pure disgust within a few seconds and wowing to never see him again. Didn’t he have no dignity? Why would he still be interested after much rudeness and ignorance? Did he just want to prove that he could eventually get in to my pants and that I can be weakened? May be I just keep leading him on, giving a green light just after a red, just like the traffic lights (though without the amber and no warning what-so-ever). May be, just may be, guys like him deserve to be twisted and crumpled like this, though I know too well that I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. Alas ! the drama ends today and another one bites the dust! He may be a winner, always used to getting what he wants, when he wants, but this time, with me, he is a loser!
I take another scenic boat ride to Bur Dubai with a single regret of not bringing the camera along (such scenic bliss lost to good old memories, which would eventually be lost forever) ! With a few minutes of walking down the allies strewed with shops filled with ‘penny-wise-pound-foolish’ souvenirs, which fell across the creek, I finally reach the bus station to make my journey back to Al Ain. I buy the ticked and impatiently walk towards the bus to relax my feet, which was by now sore and aching. The figure seated right in front, opposite to the driver's seat looked vaguely (if not quite clearly) familiar. I ignored my instincts and sat right behind the driver’s seat, though there were plenty seats behind it. I watched his every move from the corner of my eye, the way he moved his legs trying to get comfortable, the way his jaws moved though they were clasped tight, while he listened to sum junk from a device plugged in to his ear and how his head kept bobbing back and forth towards my direction every time I fidgeted on my seat (which I enjoyed doing more often than I needed to get comfortable).
His hair was tied into a ponytail, which could be expected of him, though he always wore it short back then, but was it him at all or was it just my imagination? If it was him, what was he doing in Al Ain? So many questions were cooking a stew in my head. I watched him ask the driver to stop when he reached his destination, and I heard his gruff voice reluctantly speak a few words over the phone and it sounded different, though I wished so much that it was him. I dared not look in his direction when he raised himself from the seat and slowly made his way to the door giving himself enough time to take a good look at me. The image of him shall be embedded somewhere in my memory waiting to be brought back to reality when the time is right. Inhaling the energy of the final memory of him doing the weird thing he does with his tongue clicking his teeth, I decide to get out of the shower and put an end to the trauma my skin was going through.
With my skin thawed and my hair rusted, I finally curl up to catch around 4 hours of sleep before I head back to work.
Flashes of a series of incidents that took place last Wednesday were combining themselves together and were now teasingly replaying itself over and over again as if from inside my eyelids, that I dared not open my eyes lest I lose a single precious moment. The water boat & banyan boat rides in Deira, the sun scorching my skin from one side while the wind trying to fight the heat from another, the smooth business meeting which left me with more hope than I ever had for the past one and a half years (clumsy as I am, I spilled half the glass of water which was placed in front of me half way through the presentation, I wish I could erase the memory, though it seems impossible), and finally seeing him after ages and feeling nothing, but joy which deflated to pure disgust within a few seconds and wowing to never see him again. Didn’t he have no dignity? Why would he still be interested after much rudeness and ignorance? Did he just want to prove that he could eventually get in to my pants and that I can be weakened? May be I just keep leading him on, giving a green light just after a red, just like the traffic lights (though without the amber and no warning what-so-ever). May be, just may be, guys like him deserve to be twisted and crumpled like this, though I know too well that I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. Alas ! the drama ends today and another one bites the dust! He may be a winner, always used to getting what he wants, when he wants, but this time, with me, he is a loser!
I take another scenic boat ride to Bur Dubai with a single regret of not bringing the camera along (such scenic bliss lost to good old memories, which would eventually be lost forever) ! With a few minutes of walking down the allies strewed with shops filled with ‘penny-wise-pound-foolish’ souvenirs, which fell across the creek, I finally reach the bus station to make my journey back to Al Ain. I buy the ticked and impatiently walk towards the bus to relax my feet, which was by now sore and aching. The figure seated right in front, opposite to the driver's seat looked vaguely (if not quite clearly) familiar. I ignored my instincts and sat right behind the driver’s seat, though there were plenty seats behind it. I watched his every move from the corner of my eye, the way he moved his legs trying to get comfortable, the way his jaws moved though they were clasped tight, while he listened to sum junk from a device plugged in to his ear and how his head kept bobbing back and forth towards my direction every time I fidgeted on my seat (which I enjoyed doing more often than I needed to get comfortable).
His hair was tied into a ponytail, which could be expected of him, though he always wore it short back then, but was it him at all or was it just my imagination? If it was him, what was he doing in Al Ain? So many questions were cooking a stew in my head. I watched him ask the driver to stop when he reached his destination, and I heard his gruff voice reluctantly speak a few words over the phone and it sounded different, though I wished so much that it was him. I dared not look in his direction when he raised himself from the seat and slowly made his way to the door giving himself enough time to take a good look at me. The image of him shall be embedded somewhere in my memory waiting to be brought back to reality when the time is right. Inhaling the energy of the final memory of him doing the weird thing he does with his tongue clicking his teeth, I decide to get out of the shower and put an end to the trauma my skin was going through.
With my skin thawed and my hair rusted, I finally curl up to catch around 4 hours of sleep before I head back to work.
