By Neel Anil Panicker
The first time he didn’t see her; he smelled her.
There she was—standing a mere two feet away from him in a short line outside a corner lane ATM kiosk.
He inhaled her, his nostrils filling with whiffs of lavender dipped in honey floating down his throat.
Time stood still for an indeterminately long period as he gazed in a half stupor the back of her creamy neck, finding himself totally lost in the infinite maze that was her auburn hair, its wisps skirting around the baby soft lobes while his heart turned turnstile, swirling maddeningly like an unhinged Ferris Wheel.
“It’s bad manners to stare such unabashedly at beautiful things so early in the morning”.
She was looking at him; her black button eyes matching the coquetish smile playing on her lips, and at that instant, he knew he was a lost case—his infantile heart yet again failing for one more of God’s exquisite creations—hook, line and sinker.
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