“Just see her boobs,” I told Lolat who sports a shoulder-length hair tied into a pony tail.
Lolat smiled a yes.
“Just see her boobs, man,” I turned to Disi unable to contain my enthusiasm for the boobs that took me by surprise, “Hypnotizing is not it?”
“Yeah I saw that,” Disi smiled knowingly. Disi is a guy who looks like someone who knows things personally. His laugh that breaks out frequently I find quite perplexing. But I have to admit it is charming.
And I am happy that he understands those pair of boobs, that they are different from most boobs in that they are small and separate from her body like headlights are separate from a car, that those boobs are like two beautiful cancerous lumps that needs to be relieved of, hanging there like that, only discernible to the scientific eye.
We three boys could see her in all her coquettish behavior: Straight black hair, glossy and sleek, precariously tied into a loose bun, matching candy lipsticks, white boat-neck blouse that suggested modesty and tight black leggings said otherwise.
What is so exciting about a train journey? A bunch of strangers sitting together in a compartment with nothing in common but a single track.
She liked it, and we liked it. We ate, we slept, she woke up to take a pee in the washroom, charcoal hair nicely disheveled down her eyes. She was really the type that was great as a distraction: my heart and all our hearts wanted to leap out and take her to a dinner or coffee.
When we neared NJP station, we shifted from our seats to get a better look of her. She had changed her clothes! She was now in a Scarlet blouse, and a hat too—and showing it off turning the hat this way and that way and making poses with her bright toothy smile—I was sad that she had changed her clothes, I totally adored how she looked in her white blouse that nuanced her nubile pubescent boobs. But the sadness did not linger: this woman sure knew about dresses. She was like a movie actress now more than ever. And yet she also had that effect that made me think of sensible middle-class girls with enough parent’s money.
“Wanna talk to her before she leaves?” Disi asked me.
“No,” I said.
“I am going out to give her one last glance outside” Disi said and went out to the platform.
And I sat there wishing her good luck in life, and imagining how excited her parents would be to see her back home.