The Trial

The AC is pretty cold i think. What time is it? I fish out the mobile from my jeans. It's quarter to five. She's been inside for quite a few minutes. No signs of getting out. I start getting restive. I look at the two mannequins-one black and one white. They don't have shades of grey here. I hear a tapping of the door and she comes out. She has put on one of the three kurtis she just walked in with. And she asks me-

"which looks better on me?"

I smile to myself. Now that is one question! And I realise i have to say something. I look at the three kurtis and point to the one she's wearing-

"Ah, this looks pretty nice."

I feel like saying- " You mean which one makes you look more beautiful? "Poor girl. So she actually thinks that it is possible to look even more beautiful! I realise how pathetically cheesy this will sound and decide to shut up.

On the way back from the mall she keeps on asking the same question.

"Are you sure this is good? I liked it."

And I try hard to remember any of the clothes that she's ever worn. I realise I don't. An earring may be? No. Still no clue. Something? Anything? What have I been doing? Me Dumbo!

I try to notice this time...while talking to her. And I realise how hard it is to notice anything at all!

Well apart from her hair. Rebellious and dark. A hair clip putting up a valiant fight to bring back the order. And the eyes. Small. Kajal lined. And the laughter. Serenely sonic. Untamed and unedited. No attempts at holding back any of it. Not even if people are staring. And then she picks up a tune somewhere. Hums to herself. And I know. Know that I will never notice.