Out in the field!

He exuded over-confidence like a brimming swimming pool. Much to everyone's annoyance though, but he had the licence. The world had him labelled as drop-dead genius. He awe-inspired me. But when I let him have ounces of my thoughts, it rang constantly in my head that he didn't even know me. Who was I? A girl in the crowd. Perhaps, someone who wanted to know him, someone who wanted to uncover the million layers he pretended to own.


He was a strange person. You'd often see him set himself up against the best of people. As speculation would have it, that was his mechanism of avoiding complacency. I remember the only encounter
I had with him. He pushed me back getting uncomfortably close. His perfume, a top notch one, had the fragrance you'd die for. He whispered, "I don't talk to you everyday but when I do, I want to walk away thinking you're worth passing by again!"

I wrestled to release myself which could only happen when he was done talking against my contorted facial expressions. When he let go of me, the first thing I managed to do was to hate him, a few abuses inclusive. He was weird, in a very weird manner. I did not know what to think of him. I resented him for those few moments until I saw him walk down in the setting sun.

He stopped for a moment. I thought he was about to turn around but he didn't. He continued walking forward, he wasn't one of those guys who could have given a glance back. I pondered over what just happened. If he would have thought it, I was making him not get complacent. That was a wonderful way to feel happy about an obnoxious experience. Realizing how sprinklers of optimism are placed in lawn we tread everyday, I stepped out in the dusk. Irony as one may say, my day begun with a sunset.