Under The Mango Trees

Chapter Forty-Four : In Between Holding Hands And Bows

To know whether Lila loved me or not had been as effortless as knowing two plus two was equal to four, or so it seemed now, after having loved her. She was sprightly and affectionate like a puppy, always seeking to get petted and shower sloppy kisses on others (I could still feel the wetness on my cheek after a year). Perhaps, I had been certain of her love even when she had dated that prick and the infuriation that pricked my nerves were due to the knowledge that she loved me while beatboxing to his raps.

To know whether Dev loved me or not was as baffling as trying to solve some trigonometric problem without any basis and I was an Arts student.

"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood," I read in my mind from the copy of 1984 which was thrown open on Dev's lap. No, no, no! I wanted to be loved more than to be understood. I wanted to be loved honestly till I could fall asleep in a second, without a speck of doubt tossing my peace. I wanted to be loved fathomlessly till every word I uttered was taken as true. I wanted to be loved passionately till my burning body was exhausted, lulling me into a lingering warmth. I wanted to be loved and love openly, obviously and overwhelmingly.

Dev's eyes flickered to mine at that instant and I scoffed. "To be understood is never enough. No one can understand us completely so it's best to be loved. At least, someone will try to understand out of love. Even if they don't ever understand, their love will colour everything rosy and bright. We won't ever be misunderstood. We would be thought of rather kindly."

His low chuckle made me look at him in curiosity, not in offence because his chuckle was never mocking. It made me want to continue saying foolish things to hear him laugh. When he noticed my expectant look, he said, "People can understand each other. All of us can think in different ways and if someone tries to think in your way, to understand you---"

"Like you do," I blurted out and at that second the train lurched, the momentary chaos swallowing my thoughtless words and pushing me forward.

Before I heard him speak, I felt his firm hand on my stomach, preventing me from toppling over. "Are you okay?" In a brief nod, the hand was gone. "We should get up. Our stop is coming." I watched his broad shoulders expanding as he moved in front of me, then stepped aside to let me stand. "What did you say last? I didn't hear you."

Praise thee to God. "No, nothing. I forgot what I said."

He smiled in amusement, his collar button had popped open in the chaos and I could see his birthmark like a tea-stain. His skin was smooth and taut, but it looked sensitive at that spot. A minute ago, his hand which had held my stomach and left me tingling was gripping the hanging handles, the nerves a vibrant blue like rivers. Then I inadvertently met those honey-brown eyes under the setting sun and looked away. What was I doing?! I was acting in the same way as the creeps in the trains!

Both of us were stunned to see the unusual throngs of people on the station as the train slowed. Someone said in between a tired yawn from behind us, "Trains have been cancelled." Two men jumped at me before the train had a chance to halt, others rushing after them. I still don't remember how I managed to push through them and get down. I didn't have a chance to marvel at my skills either because I was shoved here and there, strands of my hair flying everywhere and my shoes on the brink of being hurled to outer space.

Amidst the crowd, a strong hand caught mine and pulled me away, commanding the crowd to separate at his long strides. I could feel the warmth and roughness of his hand as I stumbled after him. The crowd no longer smothered me, they evaporated into a hazy mist. All I could see, feel and smell was him and hear the wild throbbing of my own heart. His warmth crept on my arms and seeped into my being, intensifying into fiery hotness that inflamed my body. That was how clumsily and hurriedly I climbed on the stairs like someone had set fire to my tail.

The minute we tumbled out of the crowd, he naturally dropped my hand and ran his fingers through his dishevelled (might I add, sexy?) hair. "It was easy for a stampede to break out there."

I was still recuperating from that little touchy session and my voice came out weird and wrong, "Were you worried about that?"

"Weren't you?" He cocked his eyebrow in surprise.

I cleared my throat, to soften the hoarseness. "You didn't give me a chance to get worried." The look of surprise didn't vanish so I walked ahead, not wanting him to see how he made me feel. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Him preventing me from falling over in the train, him making sure that I made out of the station alive . . . Those were what anyone would expect from a person like him. Outside of those scenarios, he never expressed any interest in touching me. Why would he? I didn't even know if he had a girlfriend, he could have easily gotten one this summer. In fact, there must be plenty of greedy ones after him already.

I increased my pace at that thought and heard his footsteps quicken too, but I didn't dare to look back.

As he caught up with me, he asked, "Do you have anywhere to go?"

"No. Do you? You were busy this summer."

"I had a lot of work to do. You could see that day." His reference to "that day" when he had sent me a picture of him playing games and reading at his workplace calmed me a little. I tried my hardest to not break into an idiotic smile. "I'm sorry we didn't get to meet during the summer."

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" I let out a laugh to dissipate the tension, but it magnified it. "It's not like we're dating or anything."

Take me away this instant, God.

"I'm sorry for myself. I missed spending time like this," he said without any hint of awkwardness, pocketing his hands and looking like the cool teenager that he was.

"That's what you get for choosing to do CA. A purgatory before you get a lavish life."

"Purgatory, huh?" he repeated with a smile that melted my insides. "And what about you? What do you want to do?"

"We're not having this conversation today or ever," I mock cried out, running ahead and hearing him laugh. Turning around, I said as sassily as someone like Lila would, "If I knew what I wanted to do, it'll be over for bigshot CA people like you."

He pretended to wipe his imaginary sweat, making me burst into laughter before he even spoke. "I'm relieved to hear you don't know what you want to do. Thank you."

I bowed. "My pleasure."

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