The Undiscovered -- Or the Long Forgotten

The Undiscovered -- Or the Long Forgotten

A Story by

Sandeep Palakkal

Once upon a time, or rather, some years back, there lived a young man in the middle of a big city in India. In those days, in the depth of his heart, he used to feel that he was one of those educated young men who were, perhaps, doomed to live in a rather congested, dirty Indian metro, far away from home and where some alien language was spoken in the everyday life. Of course, his bulk five figure salary helped him lead an easy life in a nice apartment, with all comforts which almost all of his nighbours could not even dream of! He lived in a fully furnished apartment, in the corner of a street, which otherwise was as good as a slum. Perhaps, he was bored of everything outside and, most of all, of his own life. I don’t know; I can’t judge him anymore.

For the past four years, he had been living there, and had developed some damn, monotonous routine. Routines are good, you know? They say, it helped people like Einstein to concentrate on their work; perhaps, they are correct. But his routine only made him more of a damn fool. There was nothing interesting to think of in life, other than the usual daily cool stuff. But only until a day something had happened in his life. Something apparently trifling, but which changed something in him. Which caused his mind to be active again.

Well, it was a hot morning, as usual in that part of the earth. And he was on his way to office, on one of his new bikes -- he owned three bikes and one car at the time, for that matter. And, as usual in every morning, he bumped into the same old coffee shop for breakfast. He had not made this shop his permanent place for breakfast because it had very good ambience, or because the people over there behaved well, or because he had just developed some kind of affection with the place and the people who worked there. It was simply because it was almost the only shop which provided some hygienic food, though they charged him more than necessary. After all, this was the case with every shop in a metro! As the usual confusion of what to eat -- dosa or idly or puri with masala -- started threatening the stability of his mind, he noticed a startling new face on the other side of the bill counter, where usually an old boorish fellow used to sit. Perhaps, he had been too much conditioned and adjusted to his life, his mind could not take this change quite immediately. He was confused while making his order, almost forgot to get his balance back, and was so embarrassed to talk to her, the owner of this new face. While he was eating, he knew something had changed in him. Only, he could not explain it in words -- he just could not explain.

His confusion stayed only for one day, and second day onwards, he started observing her, in fact, without his own knowledge. Somehow, she aroused a lot of enthusiasm in him. Enthusiasm -- maybe, the sign of a healthy mind. She was just twenty-two or twenty-three years old, yet not very attractive, and had nothing in common with those girls who were working with him in the office, who his friends and, as he would admit not without some doubt, he, found very sexy, and who, he and his friends thought, made their life in the office exotic. On the contrary, she was less attractive, or perhaps, completely unattractive; his friends might even say ugly? She used to wear some old fashioned churidar, a pair of black coloured earrings, a pair of plastic bangle of some dark color, one on her each arm, and a pair of thin slippers; she showed no taste of fashion whatsoever in her dressing or appearance, and if she still had some sense of fashion, it was from some ancient times and bland; and it seemed to him that she never bothered to say something or make a point about her personality through her appearance. Besides, she was so thin and fragile that she would evoke pity in anyone who looked at her.

Yet, since the beginning, he felt there was something in her, which lay beyond her outward appearance. Was it the liveliness she was able to render into her otherwise silly gestures? Was it those simple and naive expressions that she continuously bore in her face? Or, was it the calm composure she always possessed in all her movements? He could never tell. But I am convinced that for him it was a joy watching her, without her knowledge, sitting in a corner of the shop, with a hot cup of coffee on his table. Sitting like that he used to feel that he was a child again, life was again worth living, and happiness was nothing remote or nonexistent. What is the meaning of life, dear friend? Or, rather, what was life worth living for? If not for the simple happiness one feels for no reason! That simple happiness one feels when waking up to a warm, sunny morning, with songs of the birds in the background! The same happiness one feels after taking a short walk through some old country side! Happiness one feels when watching the sun falling slowly into the sea! Where had it gone? When had it disappeared from his life? Why had he not known? Perhaps, it was the same simple happiness that her presence had aroused in him. I could never tell till lately.

I had chanced to meet him on one of my long train journeys a few years ago, as he happened to be seated opposite to me. He looked like a very happy man, looking enthusiastically through the window, as though he could not miss any scene outside. At some point of time, somehow, we started talking, and it was then that he told me this story of his life. He told his story with such intense passion and poise that even I felt very elated. From his long conversation, I was convinced that what he felt towards that young girl was not the least stained by those carnal desire a man would feel towards a girl. Rather, he was just inspired by her presence. I remember asking myself the question: Can mere appearance of a simple girl cause so much of change in one person? I never believed him, but only until lately.

As years move forward, we forget even our own happy memories, and so had I long forgotten that chap and his story. But to my surprise, and for no apparent reason that I could think of, his story came back into my mind, not when I was awake, but during my sleep as a revealing dream. Perhaps, it was the early hours of the morning, and I was still sleeping under my blanket, when I started dreaming of an unknown land. I am sure that I had never been there before in my life. I saw myself walking on a deserted road, looking for something. Finally, I could find a lonely coffee shop, which, I felt, had long been waiting for me. I entered into it with some strange feelings, hoping to have a cup of coffee, and I saw at once a thin, dark skinned girl sitting across a table, wearing a green churidar. Somehow, it occurred to me that I must get the bill first from her, and walked straight towards her. I was aware that there was no one else in the shop, and I kept wondering what kind of a place it was. First, I asked her what time it was. She did not understand. She was confused, and rather, was scared -- I could read it in her face. Her face reflected her mind so transparently that it glowed with momentary confusion and doubt. I had never seen such a glowing face before in my life, and it was refreshingly new and beautiful. I woke up at this moment in my bed, and the last word was stuck deep in my mind. I deliriously repeated the word many times before I was fully awake and became conscious of myself

“Beautiful! Beautiful! Beautiful!”

Alas! The fellow I met in the train was wondering what had attracted him to that unattractive girl. But I know the answer. I know the answer. It was her beauty! Her beauty!

I do not know where that chap lives. I do not know his address. But if he reads this piece of work that I have written for him, let him know this.

It is beauty, my friend, which lies beyond attractiveness, which is the source of simple happiness in life. And while attractiveness is open for any fool to see, beauty has to be discovered!

Sandeep Palakkal,

Chennai,

Aug 11, 2011.