Wednesday, May 4, 2016

The Application...


The glass door flung open and she walked into the lounge, her hair scattered all over face, and her orange and pink dupatta flying about her as if announcing her arrival. Balancing her helmet, a purse and shades that had just got off her eyes in one hand, and a bunch of papers and what looked like a book in the other, she struggled to shake off the unruly hair from blinding her.

He sat gazing at her from his seat across the customer desk, his heart fluttering wildly like it always had when he saw her. He wished he could sweep her hair off her cheeks and tuck them behind her ear. As she tried to use the back of her palm to push her tresses away, the papers and book loosened from her grip and scattered on the floor. With the papers flying in all directions, she nodded her head in disapproval at her own clumsiness, cursing herself and then muttering an inaudible apology to no one in particular.

A damsel in distress, they say, is always the beneficiary of male sympathy! They weren't  wrong at all,  because  as soon as he saw her struggling with the scattered papers, he jumped off his chair  like it were a trampoline  and was beside her in no time!Together, they caught the papers like they were hens that had escaped the coop, and sighed in unison and smiled at each other when the task was completed. He escorted her to the chair opposite his desk and manoeuvred himself into his chair.

‘I’m so sorry Karan! Quite a mess I can be at times,’ she said apparently embarrassed.

‘C’mon, don’t beat yourself over it, Suma, I can be worse.’ he said trying to make her feel better.

Then a silence followed, neither speaking a word, looking into each other’s eyes as if expecting them to do the talking. And then suddenly aware of the obvious and shameless stares, she looked away smiling. The eye contact broken, he was shaken out of his reverie. He smiled too. ‘How can I help you today?’   

‘Ah, yes. I lost my pass book. So I need to issue a new book and check a few transactions. I think something doesn’t tally,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ he said making a face, ‘and I thought you had come to see me.’ He gave her a naughty grin.   

‘Why would I...’ she began, appearing surprised at first as if he had read her mind, and then she caught the naughtiness in his expression, ‘...not,’ she said cheekily, ‘in fact, meeting you was the main reason, the pass book was just an excuse’ she added playing along and they both burst out laughing.

He so wished what she had just said was true. Only ifwishes were horses...

Suma had been one of his earliest customers at the bank. He was smitten by her simplicity and jovial nature from the very first time he had seen her. Over time, they had become good friends and she would directly approach him whenever she needed to transact at his branch. He was more than happy to provide her all the services without making her stand in the queue.  Four years of knowing each other had finally begun to assume the form of an intense liking for her. They knew almost everything there was to know about each other - they were both foodies and shared a love for Italian cuisine. Both loved white water rafting, and travelling. They would often regale each other about their travelling exploits and favourite food spots. Something about the way she looked at him made him suspect that she reciprocated his feelings but he wasn’t too sure. He had been wondering for long if he should confess his feelings to her. But he was scared. What if she denied having such feelings for him, what if she got angry, what if she left never to return again

He shook his thoughts away and brought himself to the task at present.

‘Ok, write an application letter, addressed to me... I mean, the deputy branch manager’ he added sheepishly.

‘Help me...’ she said with pleading eyes and a pout. His soul leapt across the table and placed a quick kiss on her lips before the pout was gone, while his body sat still trying to feel what his soul had just experienced.

‘Sure’ he said plucking a sheet of A4 size paper from the printer feed tray, and placing it before her and handing her a pen.

‘Address it to me, ‘he said and waited till she filled the ‘To’ and ‘From’ details. Once she was done, he continued, ‘Dear Sir, I have lost my pass book.’ He looked at her as she scribbled what he was dictating, biting the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, a strand of silken hair teasing her cheek and her dupatta sliding down one shoulder exposing her collar bone. There was something different in the way she looked and behaved today and he could not quite put a finger to what it was.

She caught his gaze lingering on her lips and raised one eyebrow like only she could. It was a few seconds before he realised she had caught him staring at her, and he shyly glanced away, too embarrassed to meet her questioning looks. She smiled and continued writing as if nothing had happened.  She scribbled some sentences, signed it, neatly folded it in half and handed it to him. 

He sighed. He would perhaps never gather the courage to let her know. For now, he accepted the application and opened it to check if the details were correct.

‘Dear Karan,’ it read, ‘I have lost the pass book of my life. I am not sure the transactions of my emotions tally anymore. There are some missing entries, mainly those pertaining to my heart. I fear that someone has messed with them...could it be you? Kindly issue me your heart so that I can search if my missing feelings are in them. Do you think you could do that?’ and then it was signed, ‘Love, Suma.’

Wishes sometimes did come true!
  







   
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