The Enchantress

DISCLAIMER: This article mainly focuses on the physical beauty of women. If you can't handle it, please don't read any further. Also, please don't think I am shallow and creepy. I am just a stupid admirer of the feminine form. This does not for once mean that I am not appreciative of their inner beauty.

“Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink.”

          -Col. Frank Slade (Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman)

If there is one thing in the world that acts as Kryptonite as well as an Arc Reactor (Non-superhero fans, please refer Google) for men, then its women. The above lines by Al Pacino do reflect the sentiments of every man in this planet quite aptly. Since, I reside in a boys’ hostel in an Engineering college, it basically means that lethargy, procrastination and pot are my best friends which kind of dulls down my mind. So any trip to the outside universe buzzes my mind up. I start noticing things in a very poetic manner. This brought me to the topic about women.

In my recent trip to Delhi, I saw a variety of women. Now don’t get me wrong. I do see a variety of women everyday in college but they are either my teachers or women in items found in my hidden folders. But jokes apart, I actually saw a few women in this trip, not in a way of just seeing them, but closely observing them (not her measurements you pervy bastards). But, I’d like to focus on one particular damsel.

I was half asleep in the train, daydreaming about how I was partying on a Yacht with Rakhi Sawant and Poonam Pandey and how they were stroking my, uh—hair. Then suddenly I was awoken by this ambrosial perfume that sent down an eternal pleasure right from my nostrils to my funny parts. I tried to locate the source of the fragrance and there i saw this woman of not more than 25 years, having a slender mermaid-like figure gliding down the aisle towards me.

Now, the thing is that luck has been a sucker on me. Never have I ever got a hot female travelling companion. It has always been either some snoring uncle or annoying children or fat aunties. But then, jab upar wala deta hai toh chhapad faad ke deta hai. So, this goddess-like woman sits opposite to me and as soon as that happened, I went from my awkward daydream pose to my hot James Bond pose and slowly started sipping water from my paper cup in a manner Mr. Bond sips his martini.

Facing such a situation for the first time, I did the only logical thing I could do. I started fiddling with my phone in a very suave manner, scrolling through my contacts and p*rn collection and shit. With the corner of my eye I saw that she took out a book and started reading it. I thought to myself, “Ground control to Major Tom, coast’s clear. You’re clear to zero-in on the target.” Well, a pretty unusual thing happened. Thoughts just vanished from my mind and for a brief moment I was stunned by her sheer beauty. She wore a simple red-coloured full sleeve top and a long, flowing, blue skirt. She had feline facial features much like Olivia Wilde. Her skin was the perfect tone of brown— not uncooked, not burnt, but perfectly roasted. She had these big, doe-like, hazel eyes with the slightest traces of mascara. Her hair was of the type they show in shampoo commercials. I was just overwhelmed at this sight and for a moment I forgot about the seven hells—my life. Her supple form swayed metronomously with the movement of the train, almost in an angelic fashion. I kept watching her very skilfully, through my cellphone’s camera and after my brain got numbed from being enchanted by her aura, I dozed off with a smile on my face. When I got up, alas! She was nowhere to be seen. And then suddenly I finally understood the meaning of the lines written by John Keats:-

“A Thing of Beauty is a joy forever.”

-The Freak