How To Not Fall In Love?

3 : Deotima

Please read the chapter till the end. It is important, in this journey. Also, I love to read your inline comments. Do share them in the comments.

Deotima

I have particularly taken care of how I look tonight. I had decided to look the most under-dressed. Better said, the shabbiest. And I had my own reasons. They were all justified.

There have at least been a thousand times, when I have made it known to my parents that I hate parties. I despise them. I scorn them. The entire concept of get-togethers is so stupid. Numerous people show up, eat, drink, giggle, laugh, dirty the house and then leave. It's a waste - financial, physical and timely.

Me looking shabby tonight, would be a protest to it.

I had been staring into the mirror, thinking all these, when my mother barged in.

"THIS IS HOW YOU ARE GOING TO SHOW UP TONIGHT?"

I turned to stare at her.

She softened down a bit, "Diya, sonamaa, get dressed up, please."

"Na," I uttered in a syllable.

"You are the princess of this house. You need to look the prettiest, beta."

"Ma, I am about to turn eighteen in two weeks. All this oiling won't work for me. Moreover, beauty lies in the soul, not in the body. You say that, don't you?"

"You are explicit. Do whatever you want to do. People will blame for spoiling you. But okay, who cares?"

I turned my face around.

"No one even looks at you. They are terrified as hell," Ma shouted, "I WONDER WHICH BOY WOULD EVER MARRY YOU?"
She was leaving the room.

"I WILL MARRY A MAN," I shouted back.

Then I ran behind Ma, as fast as I could. Hugged her from the back, kissed her cheeks, spoke unwanted mothereses to my mother, and tried to justify my reasons.

It turned out that I irritated her more. So she threw me off her back.

Ma, my sweet Ma. I can never comprehend what kind of of relation I share with my mother. But whatever it is, it is fun.

By eight, a lot of guests had arrived. I was sitting on top of the mock tail counter, with Dev. We were at our assigned task - Giggling.

"Ei Diya...Where is Wriddhi Da?"

I widened my eyes. Then flinched my face.

"See...this attitude. This attitude will take you nowhere. I wonder which boy will ever love you?"

"Woah - wha -" I suddenly realized the futility of a verbal protest. So I punched him off the counter. He fell on the ground and stared at my face.

"Diya...where is Wriddhi?" Dadabhai asked me.

"Wha - How will I know. He's your friend. You know better, I suppose"

"Diya Ma, Wriddhi would come today, won't he?" Baba asked me.

"How will I -" I couldn't complete when Dadabhai shouted, "Baba...Wriddhi is here."

I saw Wriddhiman Sengupta standing at the door, smiling at my mother.

"Wriddhi."
"Wriddhi Da."
Dadabhai, Dev, Baba and most of the other guests shifted towards him. Was he like a magnet? Or what?

"Diya Ma, bring a glass of water please," Baba called out.

"Sure, Baba," I instantly responded.

I hurried with the glass of water. I was offering it to Baba, when he told, "Give this to Wriddhi."

'Why? Why such special treatment. Is he a celebrity?' I thought.

But, anyways, I stretched out my hand to offer him the glass, when for a brief second, I noticed his eyes survey my face and my outfit. My shabby outfit - an old oversized men's T-shirt, old baggy pants, and a pair of chappal. A big bun was reigning the top of my head. Then a soft smile appeared across his lips. Did he just mock me?

The crowd moved forward. But I stood still. Did I dress up that bad? I suddenly felt an unease spread across my chest and mind.

After a little while, I followed them. My brothers and friends had encircled Wriddhiman. When I reached, they pulled  me to sit together with them.

That was the time, I noticed for the first time how he looked. Charming! Absolutely charming!
The top two buttons of his whirt shirt were ajar, giving a considerable idea of his chiseled torso. His biceps were kinda threating his white shirt to tear off, whenever he laughed. My eyes for the first time noticed how handsome he looked.

Then I thought of myself. It was so obvious for him to laugh at me. It was so obvious for him to mock at me.

Then he looked at me for a second. I did not remove my eyes off him. But he immediately withdrew his eyes and laughed with his boys.

My eyes tickled a tear drop. No one could feel the complexity I felt at that moment. But I could. None of them noticed me vanish from their company. But I noticed how I took little steps to move away from them, in a place of seclusion, to shed my tears for an unknown, disgusting and churning feeling.

I never felt so helpless before.

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