She was neither particularly beautiful nor particularly alluring in anyway, atleast not in the conventional sense. Nor had she any particular feature that stood out or was striking to behold in any manner. In fact , she was quite plain to look at.
Her complexion could have been called dusky, but was tending more towards the darker side. She had small expressionless eyes and a rather smallish nose. Slightly sunken cheeks below rather prominent cheekbones served to give her something of a proud air. Her shoulder length hair was severely tied back into a neat ponytail. She had a large forehead ,on which were a few strands of hair ,which had escaped the severe punishment inflicted on their other brethren , and as such were showing off their rebelliousness.
She was thin of build and had smallish breasts. Her hips were wide for one with such thinness of build. She was dressed in a black, almost knee length kurti on blue jeans , which were jagged at the ends, She had on a pair of light brown floaters ,which advertised her uncut , slightly dirty toenails.
As the reader can perceive , she was quite plain . One might not have given her a second look if one had seen her on a busy street or someplace crowded. However, the place where I was then , was neither a street nor was it crowded. In fact , excluding me, her and the bookshop owner, there were two more people in there.
We were in a large used books shop. It was big but it was nothing much of a shop actually. It was on the pavement in a side alley. Lot of books were just piled on one another on raised wooden platforms. These wooden platforms were set against a 10 foot wall and this was throwing a cool shade on the shop , thus serving as protection from the sun. It was on of my favorite haunts, the coolness of the place , combined with the collection of books , afforded one the opportunity to while away several hours pleasantly , just diving through the piles and fishing for and browsing through those books. I came here almost every weekend.
It was one such weekend , a lazy Saturday afternoon. I preferred to come here on Saturdays ,because on Sundays this place became very crowded and if you are the leisurely type , you wouldn’t want to elbow nor be elbowed while browsing through books.
She was standing a few feet away from me , leafing through a book. May be she sensed that I was looking at her , she suddenly turned in my direction and looked at me . I didn’t stop looking at her. We exchanged glances for a brief moment and she went back to her leafing.
I noticed the title of the book . It was one by Dawkins, The God Delusion . I started thinking about the book . On how well Dawkins articulates , on the cogency of his thoughts , and the almost missionary passion that he brings to atheism . However , sometimes the stridency of the book disturbed me a little. As I was thinking , I noticed that she had put that book down and had picked up Sagan’s Demon Haunted World. Ofcourse , I thought , compared to Dawkins , Sagan was so balanced , couching his arguments in a much less strident language. As I started thinking about balance , and careful language and gentle critcisim , I noticed Will Durant’s Story of Philosphy. And I could not help reflecting on his balanced and almost gentle criticisms of various philosophers. As I leafed through that book , I came across a lot of philosophers whom I had always tried to understand but could not.
As I was cursorily going through the book , wondering was there any philosopher that I understood even slightly , I noticed her picking up a title by Bertrand Russell . Ofcourse , I thought , here was a man whom I understood a little atleast . I started thinking about his writings and his most famous came to my mind “ Why Am I not a Christian” . As I was recollecting what was said in the essay , thoughts about religion , about atheism and about science started coming to my mind. As I was thinking about them , I noticed some of the best works on science that I had ever read , selfish gene , climbing mount improbable , dragons of eden , cosmos . All of them first rate , all of them immensely pleasurable reads. As I was thinking about those books , I was thinking not about their contents , but about the pleasures , of curiosity , of surprise ,of admiration and most commonly of discovery that are almost always associated with them. As I was wondering , if there were any other books , by reading which I had derived so much pleasure , I noticed her leafing through a collection of short stories of Maugham .
Bingo , I thought .That was indeed one author , that I loved. I mean , his was probably some of the first novels that I had ever read. And they had left a lasting impression. As she was leafing through the book , my thoughts strayed from Maugham’s novels to his short stories and some of my favorites started coming to my mind. Lord Mount drago , alien corn , a string of beads . I reflected on his writing style , the really amazing characters , and most of all his some of his unforgettable quotes . This led me on a bylane to think about humor and thereby some of it’s practitioning authors. And ofcourse Wodehouse sprang to mind immediately. I begain thinking about his works. The eccentric characters, the rib ticklngly funny lines , and the improbable , hilarious situations. I remarked to myself that , Wodehouse’s humor indeed comes from a combination of interesting characters and improbable situations , but his humor is never insane. As I was reflecting thus , I noticed her picking up a work of Douglas Adams . Ofcourse , I thought , the undisputed emperor of insane humor.
It continued ,thus, for around two hours.
After around two hours , I noticed her coming towards me. She was smiling at me.
“Coffee honey?” , she said , “I am tired”
“Sure” , I said , “the usual place?”
“yes”, she said
As I walked out of the shop with her , she said ,” You know ,that was the one of the best conversations I ever had”
I beamed down at my wife of two years. I was so glad I had married her.
.
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sweetie
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