In the park.
Tuesday evening, I saw a beautiful girl sitting in front of me. Her eyes were wide open, I amazed myself that I was searching my happiness in her eye. That eye was a dreamer’s eye. Black panted Kajal was trying to defend from evil soul, I thought. A classic Hindi song was playing in my heart, “tere kale kale najare”. Her ear ring was swing while she moving. Time to time she made her hair with her hand. Her fingers were beautiful. I didn’t but one handful air came and kissed her then gone.
She was wearing black Kurta and Surawal. Her face was covered with mask that was also black in colour. Her attire was black. Covid Sucked economy, everything around the world but that was the first time that it ruined my partly happing love. How did I call her to open up her mask, how did I call her I wanted to see her nose, chick and lips with my eyes. That’s was unfair but what if she opened her mask and I could have to run away.
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Why she was wearing black get up. Did she love everything black, if that, all of people known called me black guy. Could I be her choice. I thought that’s first time I was happy being a black guy.
My heart was canning with the job, being a black boy. I thought that racism had never gone. I was bullied for my skin colour. But that time I was inviting somebody just come and call me "Kale".
One couple just passed, crossing we both. The boy was so thin and his girlfriend was fatty. I imaged how would they deal if they made quarrel. He could fly if he got kicked from his girlfriend. Her eye would become red with fire if somebody called her Fatty. If her girlfriend became sad, he would call her chubby to make her pleasure.
She just woke up from the bench and got ready to go. She had been caring her dress what that sketching or not. She was middle in size. I was not teller man but I could guess that she would fit me. like her dresses fitted her. Was there any measurement of the love if were, what was that? I questioned myself. When she moved her body to make a path to go, my body was shaking, my legs also wanted to go with together, but shyness and obsession weighted couldn’t make me to move a little. My heart settled like the frozen in the ice. Cold air blew in the heart even in the mid-summer.
I did not have idea whom she has been waiting for. Was she upset after her boyfriend didn’t come there to receive her. After she left, all flower had dried up, pond had drawn, that “Puspalal” park had been burning in the mid-day. I didn’t see green grass in there, it had changed into desert. There was no more park in the middle of the “Hetauda” town. When I had been existing from the gate one question pinched in my heart, she could be Muslim girl, that’s why she was wearing black attire.
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