The Pink Chewing Gum - Short Story A decade ago I saw her on the road. She went to the nearby shop and in a twisted Urdu accent, that is trademark of Kashmir girls, asked for a pack of chewing gums. After crossing the road, she tore the wrapper and freed a pink chewing gum from the shacks of polythene packing. I could draw comparisons between the chewing gum and myself. We were both amazed. We were free. We were both to be used and thrown. Meanwhile, she came up the stairs of the coaching center supposedly for chemistry tuition. She looked around for her friends. Entered the classroom, crossed rows of boys till she reached the sovereign territory of girls. Our tuition centers are the only places in world were small sovereign nation states are carved on the basis of gender. The reckless republic of boys at the back, the disciplined republic of chocolate boys in middle and then the confused republic of girls at the front! I was the spokesperson of reckless republic but to get a better glimpse of her, I decided to give up my citizenship and took refuge in chocolate republic but it was more of a romantic asylum than a migratory decision. Strands of her curly dull black hair tapering down her head scarf and freezing down her neck distinguished her from rest, as all of them dawned in black *Abhayas with their backs facing my eyes. My eyes started searching her like the Google. But even Google needs a keyword or two. For my eyes the only keyword was beautiful, just beautiful, most beautiful and unlike Google I just got one search result -Her. Our chemistry teacher entered the class, scolded the reckless republic, praised the chocolates and smiled at the confused mass. I was gazing at her careless curls. For me it was a Chemistry class in its literal sense. Suddenly I had a cursory look at the blackboard and saw my teacher draw the structure of Benzene which Kekule had discovered in a dream. He had dreamed of snakes with tails tied to each other and thus came up with the cyclic structure of Benzene. I bet if he hadn’t discovered it, I would have done it by dreaming about the curls of her hair. Alas! An unromantic snake dreamer denied me, what would have been the most romantic discovery in Chemistry.A week after I saw her walking on the same road. She had a strange walking style. She would walk as if some invisible heavenly power had chained her legs. She would take small steps and jog with a lazy elegance like that of Pakistan batting legend Inzimam-ul-Haq. But this lazy Inzimam like character would suddenly transform into a hurried, alert Jhonty Rhodes when a boy would approach her even with his good intentions. I was her prisoner and she had handcuffed me with her curls. Some prisons are soothing. Some prisons are beautiful. No one wants to be bailed out of such prisons. In fact people want to be booked for serious crimes, under draconian laws and sentenced to lifer in such prisons. She had many admirers. I was a secret admirer. I was a coward. Fear of rejection overcame the necessity of union. I decided not to talk to her. One beautiful morning, in an exam hall in our school, with the mathematics paper in front and she besides me I solved a problem of Boolean Algebra. I turned back, had a glimpse of her and solved trigonometry. I turned again, had a look at her eyes and solved Calculus. Finally I looked back again and she gave me her answer paper. She didn’t utter a word and I understood everything. I solved all her problems, mathematic to be precise. She relied on me. I felt special. I felt like Pythagore. I felt like Archimedes. My heart shouted Eureka! I had found it. I had found love. I had lost myself. Copying in exams should be dealt strictly. Students ought to be punished. But for those in love be exempted and encouraged. A week later, drenched in rain and shivering with cold, I rode a bus. I almost had a fall when I saw her seated inside. I smiled. She didn’t. Driver turned on the music. A popular song of that year from the Bollywood flick Veer Zara played. Janam dekhlo mitgayi Dooriyan..Main Yahan Hu Yahan Hu Yahan (My beloved, see distances have ceased to exist..I am here, I am here, I am here). I smiled again. She too did. Everything in and around changed. The drops of rain on her deep webbed hands looked like oyster shells and pearls. I continued to gaze at her. She continued to smile. My cold shivers transformed into warm geysers of sweat. Her smile was consuming. I became much like the pink chewing gum. I turned pink, then pale and white. A year later we again met in an exam hall, with mathematics paper in front and she besides me. I solved no problems. I knew nothing. I couldn’t have a glimpse of her. I had ruined everything. The Pythagore in me was dead. Archimedes in me drowned in his own contradictions. I did what I don’t dare to write now.I lost her. I hate that song. I don’t allow friends to play it. It turns me into a useless chewing gum.
Posted on: Fri, 17 Oct 2014 06:56:48 +0000
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