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The Magnolias Still Bloom - Chapter II

I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again - My life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I were dissolving... I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - i have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you. My creed is love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a power I cannot resist.
--- John Keats


Now came the next big question. Who exactly was she? I mean, you can't just ask somebody you've met twice, her name and antecedents, can you? And especially someone like me, who is renowned for a subtle approach, just doesn't do things this way. That's not my style at all...

"Are you a she-devil come to lure us mortals towards sin? Or are you an international spy working undercover?" I asked her once.

"Naah! Ok, I guess there's no point lying any more," she said. It seemed some mountain gorillas decided to do a war dance at that very moment inside my heart. "I'm just an employee of the tax department, trying to snoop on you and find out how much black money you have," she said with that killer smile.

And then, it became a game. Daily, she would allow me one guess at her identity.

"Are you a mermaid cursed by her stepmother to live with mortals on land?"
"Nope, I'm an alien from the planet Zupton, trying to get spare parts for her crashed spacecraft."

"Are you a princess from a faraway kingdom, looking for her frog prince?"
"Maybe, but so far, I've only met toads!!"

So, our verbal parleys continued for may days. Though I didn't manage to find out who she was, our acquaintance blossomed into a beautiful friendship. And as my guesses grew wilder in their fantasy, her laughter at my imagination grew merrier. Once or twice, I tried pestering her to tell me who she was, but she would promptly change the topic. Meanwhile, summer turned to autumn, and autumn turned to winter.

On Christmas Eve, I found her waiting for me on the bench, on our bench, with a small package in her hand. She handed it to me, and with a twinkle in her eye, said, "When you open this, you'll find out my identity."

With nervously fumbling fingers, I opened the package. Her quiet, mischievous smile turned into gales of laughter, as I moronically stared at the Enigma CD in my hand, a perplexed frown on my face.

"An enigma," she whispered, "that's what I am. I cherish your friendship, and let it remain this way, please....." Saying so, she turned away, but not before I saw the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. It was probably my imagination, or was it??

I took out a neatly wrapped package from the pocket of my parka, and gave it to her. She smiled at me, and tore the wrapping open, like a little kid, and then, jumped in surprise on hearing, "I love you." It was one of those toys that say funny stuff when touched. "It is lovely," she said, "Thank you, and Merry Christmas." I smiled at her as she walked away, "Merry Christmas to you too. I'm glad you like it."

That evening, I was trying to sneak a CD player I had borrowed from a friend, into my room, when I was accosted by a feisty young girl. Eyes blazing, she said, "So, where do you think you're slinking off to, dear boy?"

"Eh..uh...nowhere. What makes you think I am 'slinking away'? I am walking in a perfectly dignified manner, like any young man of my age ought to walk."

"Shush! What's that you're carrying?"

"I am...uh...just in the mood for some nice music. So, I borrowed this player from Andy."

"Ha!! You and music....nonsense! I know you've hated always music of any kind. You claimed once that if you had a time machine, you'd go back in time and strangle Bach, Beethoven, Mozart et al. And your protests against my taking violin lessons are still echoing around the house."

"Well, people change! And.... I am no exception."

"Hmph! Go, suit yourself. But, I really do think there's something amiss, and you're hiding something from me."

Ever since she was a baby, April was the most adorable child ever. However, her habit of acting like a little Sherlock Holmes would always get n my nerves. So, I decided to ignore her. As I climbed up the stairs, she called after me, "Is this change brought about by the girl in the park?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, and my ears pricked up instantly. "How do you know....ahem...I mean..what are you talking about?"

"Ok, whatever, go enjoy your music. I'll find out, what's cooking."

"Dearest, it's time you were off to sleep. Or you'll be late again."

"Okie, good night, and sweet dreams," she winked mischievously at me.


If you had an eight-year old sister, who always acted too big for her boots, you wouldn't be smiling or grinning at my plight. Anyway, I went back downstairs, to check if April was nicely tucked in, and came back to listen to the CD.

I've listened to that CD innumerable times. It no longer plays, for it's surface is marked with scratches and abrasions. Still, each note of that soulful music is etched clearly in my memory. Indelibly...

I listened to it, not because I love or even like music. I listened to it, because it had come from her, the girl I was slowly falling in love with.

The girl whose name I didn't know... the girl who could've been an escaped convict for all I knew... or cared.

Once, losing my patience with her, I had held her firmly by the shoulders, and almost begged, "Who really are you? Tell me... please!"

She had smiled, knocking me breathless, and said, "The girl in the corner of your mind." Then, she had just gotten up, and walked off, leaving behind a whiff of her enticing cologne.

If only, she knew that she took up my entire mind...

If only, I'd known her name...

The Magnolias Still Bloom - Chapter I

“A coincidence is a small miracle in which God chooses to remain anonymous.”

She’d sit there for hours, unmoving, with an expression of utmost bliss in her eyes. Quietly, on that old park bench with the peeling red paint, and watching the world go by with her lovely, innocent eyes. She’d always have a smile on her face that would captivate me, and a vaguely sad wistfulness in her eyes that would always intrigue me.

No, don't get me wrong. I've never been the nosey parker or the peeping tom kinds. I am strictly the kind of chap who loves to mind his own business. And if I may add, I cordially detest people who go about poking their noses into other peoples' affairs.

I'm not even someone who vies for female company. Somehow, my innate charm and magnetism has always brought women flocking to me in droves. (No exaggeration there at all. I know modesty's a virtue, but so is telling the truth. I don't know what your priorities are, but I believe truth is more important than modesty.)

Anyway, it's not like I like observing people's faces. Like I said, I'm a loner. I love to go about my own business, uninterrupted. It's just that... just that.... sometimes one takes a bit of a liking to a particular face, and begins to look upon its owner with a touch of familiarity. And so it came to be.
Slowly, she became my constant in an ever-changing world. Without a word ever being exchanged between us, we must've spoken volumes to each other! Anyway, I began to look upon her as a familiar oasis of happiness in a desert of emotion. And those eyes!! Those eyes had a hue of blue that no artist’s colour palette would ever be able to create. Azure as the ocean, it was the deepest, richest blue I had ever seen. Somehow fascinating. Deeply fascinating.

I was so mesmerised by that colour, that I almost developed a fetish for eyes. I would stare at any woman I came across, and try to see if her eyes were as blue as those of the mysterious girl in the park. (Well... to tell you the truth, for a few days, I had even tried looking at the guys who frequented the club down the street. But, I had to give up when I heard one of them tell the other, “I think he's just the right kind for you, Tom. He often hangs around here, must be searching for a match.” Since that day, I have never been within a mile of that vile place.)

In my fascination for that shade of blue, I had even driven the suave, talkative salesman at the paint store to the verge of insanity, with my attempts to obtain that perfect shade. After a couple of exasperating hours, when I finally left, he had given me a nasty glare, which looked like it stemmed from a deep-rooted hatred. And if looks could kill, his would definitely have bored two minute holes in the back of my head. (Talk about customer service!! He should've been sorry that he couldn't meet a customer's requirements, and here he was... giving me baleful looks.)

However, the raging fires of my curiousity were still not extinguished. I decided, “If you can't beat them, join them!” So, I decided to frequent the park more often, carrying a newspaper or something with me, so that it wouldn't look like I had nothing better to do, and observe her activities, or rather, the lack of them. I wanted to understand what was so exciting about watching the humdrum, unexciting sight of daily chores being carried out. Once or twice, I thought she caught me looking at her. But no, it must've been my imagination! I pretended to go back to my newspaper, giving it my undivided attention. A few moments later, I sensed someone standing close to me, so I looked up.

It was her!! The corners of her mouth twitched with amusement, and she said, "Well mister, you're holding the newspaper upside down."
"Ahem...umm....ah..well...actually, yes...so? There's this picture of mountain gorillas in their natural habitat, and I was just admiring the work from different angles. Is that a problem?" I asked, being the very picture of confidence.
"Not at all! It's great! In fact, why don't you explain the picture to me?" She laughed merrily as she asked.
"Well....uh..actually, you need to view it yourself, and understand it. My explaining it won't help much." Whew! Quick thinking saves the day!!!
"Naah, that's ok....you tell me your interpretation, and I'll tell you mine," she said with a hint of mischief.
Realizing that the game was up, I decided to be direct, "Actually, it's not the picture I was looking at. I was wondering what brings you here, each day. It always piques my curiousity, your aloofness to the world, as you avidly gaze at the humdrum, unexciting sight of mundane chores beng carried out."

With a bewitching, pearly smile, and a shrug of her shoulders, she had replied, “I think life is so amazing. Each day is a new wonder waiting to be explored. I love watching the little children sweetly prancing about, and listening to the birds sing. And then, I think about how kind God has been, to have so blessed us.”

She flashed another one of her ten-megawatt smiles, which would have assured her a lifelong contract with any toothpaste manufacturer.

"Honestly, I think life is the biggest con game ever invented. You spend years believing that you've won it but, in the end, you're just as dead as anyone else. Those damned kids that you adore, those vile beings have shattered my windowpanes so many times, that I've given up replacing them anymore. HMPH!! I feel like shaking and throttling all of them, till they turn blue. And the bloody birds!! I just hate the way they keep congregating in flocks, and mumbling to themselves in their strange language. Of course, the fact that they decide to decorate my shiny new Chevy with their droppings doesn't endear them any more. Not only that, they mock me by roosting on the scarecrow that I painstakingly created on my verandah.

"And GOD, is the master conman, running this fiendish show, and making fun of us from above."

I would've unveiled these blashpemous thoughts to her, but fortunately, the wind had been completely knocked out of my sails by that stunning smile. Otherwise for sure, that would've brought our fresh acquaintance to an unsavoury end.

Breaking into my train of thought, she interjected, "I really appreciate your listening to me. A lot of people talk to me here, but no one has listened so intently. Thank you, I'll look forward to another delightful conversation with you sometime. Now, I gotta rush."

And before I could say anything, she breezed away. Anyway, though I looked forward to meeting her again, I decided to be a bit more subtle in my apporach. Hence, I purposely avoided going to the park for the next few weeks. Eventually, after subtlety had been well-thrashed, I decided I'd had enough! If she felt so good talking to me, why deny her the pleasure of my much sought-afer company?

So, I met her again. On the same old park bench with the peeling red paint. Once again, I listened to her, enthralled. I realised that she intrigued me. her ideas sounded silly, nave and even foolish to me. But her smile made them palatable, and all one could do was listen, mesmerised beyond words.

I loved talking to her... or rather listening to her.

But... I still didn't know her name...