Here's a little piece of a characterization that dawned upon me in one of those Eureka moments;-) This is going to be an utterly cr@PPy first draft - so please bare with any mistakes:)
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She looks through the window of the passing train that comes to a gradual halt on the platform. The tinted windows of the compartment lends its jaded color to the scene outside. Licensed porters running and boarding the train, chai wallahs, newspaper vendors - the whole world seems to be concise into that narrow and long strip of concrete. She gets up absentmindedly, lifting her handbag and small suitcase. Her young face shows signs of fatigue from the long journey. A beautifully dull red dress drapes her like a silk valance on a sunny window. She grabs her book by one hand. "Anna Karenina" the title reads. One could say she is a forlorn soul from the inside though her bright face with acne scars that replace a blusher begs to differ. Her intense gaze looks like it is protected by a pair of thick, pronounced eye brows. Her hair is pulled back into a neat braid without even a wisp falling on to her face. She is effortlessly pretty - perhaps beautiful!
She carefully places a foot on the platform, walking briskly and disappearing into the crowd. The place doesn't seem to have changed in the past couple of years. She was eighteen when she left this place, now she is all grown up pushing on 21. She walks out of the station, looking past a sea of faces - she doesn't seem to notice any of those. An auto wallah comes to offer his services. She gets into the auto and gives him some precise directions. The auto lumbers forward with a few jerks and merges into the bedlam of the cosmopolitan traffic that seems to embrace two wheelers, expensive auto mobiles and generously sprinkled pedestrians with dirty, noisy and open arms. A constant and loud sounding of random horns from random vehicles interrupt her thoughts. She looks out peacefully, and stuffs the book into her over sized quilted cotton handbag.
Her face freezes when she sees him driving past her on a scooter.
"Had he seen me?" She ponders in her mind. He didn't seem to have changed much - the same hair style, cleanly shaven face and a under-confident look that is plastered onto his face like a permanent fixture. "Kalidas" his name flashes in her mind. She resists the urge to bend forward and look back not wanting to call for his attention. It seems pointless now. A young man of 20 may be he was? Layers of the past unfold in her heart. The same under confident, diffident lad that used to borderline stalk her. Walk behind her till she reached her class room. It took some time for her constantly pre-occupied mind to actually acknowledge the face that followed her like a shadow day in and day out. May be it helped that he used to study in the same campus - May be he just came to see her instead of doing what ever he was supposed to do. The fact that irked her more than his stalking was his tagging along with a friend while he was on his "silent admirer form a distance" stalking period. Besides she knew that the outward appearance of hers is only half as alluring as her mind. She took great pride in her thoughts, her views on life. She thrived more in the fact that her eighteen year old mind fathomed deep, thoughtful ponders. She would thus, generally disapprove any attraction that seemingly came from the way she looked. She wanted a man to talk to her, to be charmed by her gentle ways - her simplicity of thought and no nonsense approach towards everything.
One day while she walked to the college, he stalked her the usual way with the usual clean shaven, under confident look on his face. She fought her urge to look back when she heard brisk steps past her shoulder. She increased her already march-past like gait. He jumped right in front of her holding a letter in his hands. her intense gaze pierced through his scared face - her eyebrows knotting in disapproval. She resisted the urge to open her mouth and reprimand him. But then he didn't budge. Against her own will she had to open her mouth and manage to say something clear and loud - she tries to recollect what she said to him and then lets it go. But he - the already, hopelessly infatuated lad had a new fond attraction towards her. Her voice - that sounded like a soothing waterfall - he perhaps had a glimpse into what she would have wanted him to fall for - her personality, her character and strength. She walked past him and hurried into a run to safely escape to the comfort of her classroom. She didn't look back to see the clean shaved, under confident face colored with an awe like never before. "You kill me" He exclaims under his breath and goes his way only to come back yet again with renewed love for the maiden!
"Kalidas" - his name resonates in her mind that is reminiscent of the past...."Wait a minute" Her mind questions her - "What's his real name?" "What is the name of the most sincerest, albeit irking admirer you had?" She lets out a little gasp..she had not known his name at all! "Kalidas" he was christened by her because he sends a book with the friend that he used to tag along to one of her friends. A book that was filled with juvenile, broken sentences in random languages that professed his sincere, undying love for her. She skims through it, letting out a little chuckle, a muffled laughter but not one bit of what he aims to get out of her - LOVE - she couldn't buy into any of those sentiments.
The day she had to go talk to him, she had to ask another friend to come along - she didn't choose to talk to him - his friend came and begged her to come and say what she wanted to say directly to him. His anticipating eyes, slightly misty, were fixed on her gorgeous face - her full lips mouthed some seemingly distant and cold words "Leave me alone" "Why do you stalk me?" And then, an urge - a folding of hands before him to let her be in peace. She turned back without letting him react - suppressing a want to look back and watch for his reactions. She never saw him again - up until now. "What could his name be?" she wondered - What did his face tell his name was? Then she considered her own name - "Shanti" - she thought it was ironical of her uncle to have chosen that name for her -the restless soul that jumped from a ponder to another. Her thoughts reflect back on her reactions to Kalidas - did she ridicule him since he was all over her? How else could she have dealt with a love that she could never return? More nicely? More softly? She couldn't find an answer to her questions.
May be it shall take her some loving and some heart break to address some silly queries her mind pops up once in a while.
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She looks through the window of the passing train that comes to a gradual halt on the platform. The tinted windows of the compartment lends its jaded color to the scene outside. Licensed porters running and boarding the train, chai wallahs, newspaper vendors - the whole world seems to be concise into that narrow and long strip of concrete. She gets up absentmindedly, lifting her handbag and small suitcase. Her young face shows signs of fatigue from the long journey. A beautifully dull red dress drapes her like a silk valance on a sunny window. She grabs her book by one hand. "Anna Karenina" the title reads. One could say she is a forlorn soul from the inside though her bright face with acne scars that replace a blusher begs to differ. Her intense gaze looks like it is protected by a pair of thick, pronounced eye brows. Her hair is pulled back into a neat braid without even a wisp falling on to her face. She is effortlessly pretty - perhaps beautiful!
She carefully places a foot on the platform, walking briskly and disappearing into the crowd. The place doesn't seem to have changed in the past couple of years. She was eighteen when she left this place, now she is all grown up pushing on 21. She walks out of the station, looking past a sea of faces - she doesn't seem to notice any of those. An auto wallah comes to offer his services. She gets into the auto and gives him some precise directions. The auto lumbers forward with a few jerks and merges into the bedlam of the cosmopolitan traffic that seems to embrace two wheelers, expensive auto mobiles and generously sprinkled pedestrians with dirty, noisy and open arms. A constant and loud sounding of random horns from random vehicles interrupt her thoughts. She looks out peacefully, and stuffs the book into her over sized quilted cotton handbag.
Her face freezes when she sees him driving past her on a scooter.
"Had he seen me?" She ponders in her mind. He didn't seem to have changed much - the same hair style, cleanly shaven face and a under-confident look that is plastered onto his face like a permanent fixture. "Kalidas" his name flashes in her mind. She resists the urge to bend forward and look back not wanting to call for his attention. It seems pointless now. A young man of 20 may be he was? Layers of the past unfold in her heart. The same under confident, diffident lad that used to borderline stalk her. Walk behind her till she reached her class room. It took some time for her constantly pre-occupied mind to actually acknowledge the face that followed her like a shadow day in and day out. May be it helped that he used to study in the same campus - May be he just came to see her instead of doing what ever he was supposed to do. The fact that irked her more than his stalking was his tagging along with a friend while he was on his "silent admirer form a distance" stalking period. Besides she knew that the outward appearance of hers is only half as alluring as her mind. She took great pride in her thoughts, her views on life. She thrived more in the fact that her eighteen year old mind fathomed deep, thoughtful ponders. She would thus, generally disapprove any attraction that seemingly came from the way she looked. She wanted a man to talk to her, to be charmed by her gentle ways - her simplicity of thought and no nonsense approach towards everything.
One day while she walked to the college, he stalked her the usual way with the usual clean shaven, under confident look on his face. She fought her urge to look back when she heard brisk steps past her shoulder. She increased her already march-past like gait. He jumped right in front of her holding a letter in his hands. her intense gaze pierced through his scared face - her eyebrows knotting in disapproval. She resisted the urge to open her mouth and reprimand him. But then he didn't budge. Against her own will she had to open her mouth and manage to say something clear and loud - she tries to recollect what she said to him and then lets it go. But he - the already, hopelessly infatuated lad had a new fond attraction towards her. Her voice - that sounded like a soothing waterfall - he perhaps had a glimpse into what she would have wanted him to fall for - her personality, her character and strength. She walked past him and hurried into a run to safely escape to the comfort of her classroom. She didn't look back to see the clean shaved, under confident face colored with an awe like never before. "You kill me" He exclaims under his breath and goes his way only to come back yet again with renewed love for the maiden!
"Kalidas" - his name resonates in her mind that is reminiscent of the past...."Wait a minute" Her mind questions her - "What's his real name?" "What is the name of the most sincerest, albeit irking admirer you had?" She lets out a little gasp..she had not known his name at all! "Kalidas" he was christened by her because he sends a book with the friend that he used to tag along to one of her friends. A book that was filled with juvenile, broken sentences in random languages that professed his sincere, undying love for her. She skims through it, letting out a little chuckle, a muffled laughter but not one bit of what he aims to get out of her - LOVE - she couldn't buy into any of those sentiments.
The day she had to go talk to him, she had to ask another friend to come along - she didn't choose to talk to him - his friend came and begged her to come and say what she wanted to say directly to him. His anticipating eyes, slightly misty, were fixed on her gorgeous face - her full lips mouthed some seemingly distant and cold words "Leave me alone" "Why do you stalk me?" And then, an urge - a folding of hands before him to let her be in peace. She turned back without letting him react - suppressing a want to look back and watch for his reactions. She never saw him again - up until now. "What could his name be?" she wondered - What did his face tell his name was? Then she considered her own name - "Shanti" - she thought it was ironical of her uncle to have chosen that name for her -the restless soul that jumped from a ponder to another. Her thoughts reflect back on her reactions to Kalidas - did she ridicule him since he was all over her? How else could she have dealt with a love that she could never return? More nicely? More softly? She couldn't find an answer to her questions.
May be it shall take her some loving and some heart break to address some silly queries her mind pops up once in a while.
Why do I feel as if I know this character? The story reads very well almost to the end... I feel the ending is abrupt... will look forward to the further drafts :)
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