Yes, I will miss her

She was not beautiful strictly by the norms of beauty. Still there was something very attractive about her which was hard to pin point. I can call it a spark in abstract and pretend that I can tell but that would not be right. Today also, while sitting on the long dining table, she is the one who seems to be the most happy. No it’s not her birthday we are here for, neither she is surrounded by the love of her life, but she is happy; visibly so happy that people from the neighboring tables seem to be more entertained by her than their own companies. She is talking and gossips are spreading like wild fires among all sitting around the table. The dining table has turned into an orchestra and she the conductor. Following her gestures everyone is taking the lead, one by one, to present their side of the story, with pride. There is a music to the laughter that follows each time.

I remember when I first heard of her. She was not there, she had won some award and was travelling to some conference in another continent. All the hear say, built in me some anticipation about her. I was excited to meet her. And finally, there came the day when someone introduced me to her. She was standing in front the lift looking up at the minute digital screen displaying the number of floors one after another. To be honest, I was disappointed. The Sarah in my mind was no where near the Sarah saying hello to me amicably. Sarah in my head was skinny, brunette, firm and taller. She used to speak with conviction by looking straight in my eyes. On the other hand this Sarah was with black hair, her English accent was not “perfect”, she was soft spoken and above all she was always “trying” to be social. But I was happy to be disappointed. I was looking forward to meet her more often. And we did meet many times after that. She was not slender yet a fitness freak. She used to laugh at my being vegetarian without offending me. That was her charm. The most amusing was to see her talk about her dates. The redness of her cheeks was a proof how much she enjoys attention of opposite sex. In her stories the men were crazy about her which I always took with a grain of salt. It was hard for me to imagine her physically more beautiful than this. But am I not already enthralled by her without ever telling what is it that makes me think about her this much. It perhaps is her doing the most mundane with utmost excitement, sprinkled with fragility yet contrasted with the boldness of what she says. She will be gone soon. I will miss her.