I feel, women in India are the most beautiful and attractive women in the world, which explains why men spend most of their time looking at them. I an Indian male was happy to date a girl who was one of the most beautiful girls I have seen. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop my wandering eyes to look at other beauties. I can’t help it. A woman does so much work like exercising, dieting, makeup just to look good, isn’t it my duty to appreciate by giving my little attention to them. Pooja had once caught me checking out this beautiful young girl. We were out on a double date with another couple, and while both the ladies stopped at a store to check out new collection of handbags. As if she hasn’t got enough handbags already. I stood there grazing the crowd. From afar, walked towards my direction a blossoming young girl, she wore a short skirt which ended way above her knees and an off-shoulder top. She had many wrist bands of different colours and high heel boots, which reminded me of those cowboys which I saw on television. I even turned to watch her as she passed by me, big mistake. As I turned back, Pooja was standing there with a look of disgust on her face. This was the same face, when I mixed her whites and her coloured clothing in the washing machine and all her whites came out pink. She doesn’t say anything. She would just stand there with that look that someone’s going to die by her hands. She may be little but her looks can be scary as hell.
She began walking towards that girl. I stood there panic stricken, frozen like an ice cube, looking helplessly, wondering about what might happen to that poor girl. I suddenly developed ultra-hearing abilities and managed to hear every single word of the conversation they had. ‘Hey, I want to apologize on behalf on my jerk boyfriend, he just called you a slut, judging by your outfit, I am soo… sorry’. Pooja said with an expression of great sorrow. She should be in movies that performance was flawless. Her head was hunching, hand held together and that expression; I even would have believed if I were to be on the receiving end of that performance. Then they both looked at me with those piercing eyes, like they were sentencing me to life imprisonment for a heinous crime. Which I didn’t commit, my only crime was to appreciate beauty. I looked at our friends and they too had the same expression. How did I just become from a causal guy standing and enjoying to the most wanted criminal at that place?She still hadn’t said a word during the drive back to her apartment. I was constantly apologising, but she just sat there with her hands folded looking outside the window. As we stopped, she just got out of the car and went upstairs. I followed her, but when I reached at her door, it was closed. I rang the bell few times, but she didn’t open. I didn’t want neighbours to think, I was causing a ruckus so I went down stairs and sat in my car. I texted her ‘I would stay here till she talks to me’. Soon enough her call came. She forgave me after I apologized from another thousand times. I felt bad that I made the girl I love so much cry but I did make her laugh before we hung up the phone. A lesson learnt never check out any other girl,when Pooja is around. During the drive back home, I began to wonder. Was she jealous of that girl?However, what is there to be jealous about! She knows, how beautiful she is, and the fact, nobody in their right mind would date me other than her. So what was there to be jealous about, it was just a harmless gesture of my eyes.
Few days later, Vishal, a friend of Pooja’s had invited us (only her) to his birthday party. I hate going to parties, especially to a party where I know only one person. Everyone would say ‘what’s up’ and I would reply with ‘good-good’ with a nod of my head and that’s about it. That is all the conversation I can have with strangers. Pooja is the best girlfriend I could get; she would never leave my side. Everyone would come and talk to her and she would somehow include me in the conversation. How did I get so lucky to be with her?
Everybody was dancing, and I saw, she also wanted to shake her sensuous body to the beat. So I took her to the dance floor. Though my dance looked like a crazy monkey jumping up and down, still I was happy to see my love groove on the dance floor. I would often stop and look in amazement, getting a little turned on while with the way she moved her hips. We came back to get some rest, I could see she was in blithe sprits. We were both sitting on the couch, as she leaned forward and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Vishal then came and asked her for a dance. She looked at me and I told her to go ahead. I sat there looking at them dancing and laughing. He would often come close to say something in her ear and then both of them would guffaw. From where I was sitting, his coming close and taking into her ear looked almost like kissing. Vishal was a good dancer and to add insults to injury. He was a good-looking guy too. He had broad shoulders, muscular physique, and wore a deep V-neck T-shirt. They looked like a couple straight out of a model catalog. I suddenly began to have resentful feeling for Vishal. I wanted to break his legs so that he would look like dancing even while he walked. I stood up and walked towards the dance floor. Feelings of passion were running through me. I grabbed Pooja turned her around and gave her a big smooch. When our lips departed, she looked at me in amazement, I leaned forward our cheeks touched as I whispered in her ear ‘I love you’. She smiled back at me and for the first time she said ‘Love you’ back at me. That could be the fondest memory of that party.
I finally understood what she felt when my eyes did that obscene crime. When you love someone deeply; the mere thought of your love with someone else or thinking about someone makes you insecure. This insecurity isn’t that they will leave us, but the thought of not having them in our life is what scare us into the hands of jealousy. We do crazy stuff, to mark out territory, but not making our love jealous is one of the best gifts one can give.
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