To My Manorama.....with Love

Are you coming tonight. . . . ?" she nudged me with a soft voice. My palms had already started sweating showing immense tension that I was trying to hide, the dryness in my throat stopped me from replying, drops of sweat gathered on my forehead, eyes trying to avoid her gaze. I tried to swallow and replied nervously "ye. . yes. . sure" the stammer in my voice was sure to narrow her eye brows, she was looking at me straight, piercing through me. "Are you still nervous? "she asked, "Yeah, . . No. . I mean. . "I stammered again. She held my hands in her soft ones, an electric spark flowed across and I jolted. She stroked my hands gently" I told you I am with you. . . why do you have to feel so nervous? "she spoke in her voice which was rhythmic as music. I looked at her with darted eyes. . . . a female deity of incredible beauty, grace and charm. She had a sculpted figure which was twine-thin. Her waist was tapered and she had a burnished complexion.

A pair of arched eyebrows looked up towards me with sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose. A set of dazzling, angel-white teeth gleamed as she gently smiled at me It was a pleasure to see her flowing, moon shadow-black hair across the waist. Her enticing, constellation-blue eyes gazed at me over her puffy, heart shaped lips. An elegant beauty that deemed my heart. I was already pulled towards her with an invisible string. "Just a little. . "I uttered a little relaxed by her touch. I had hardly been social. My apartment, my room, my laptop, my books and my writing pad were all my friends. I felt relaxed and happy in solitude. Quietness' and calmness gave me life of independence; free from the hustle bustle of the outside world. I had no accounts in social networking site, no girl friend, no date to go for. I stayed away from making too many friends. Social gathering and parties seemed to be a curse for me, I used to get exhausted. In solitude I found my energy, my ideas.

My school life and my college life had always been different. I had never participated in the events and gatherings, always stayed away from big friend circles, always kept my views to "Yes, no, ok"and few nods, I never felt interested in sharing my thoughts with anyone. I used to find people around me jelled up so quickly with one another. I always felt guilty of declining invitations and ultimately every one thought me to be mentally disturbed and left me alone. Yes I was an introvert and I loved staying alone in my own little world!

After completing my education, I tried looking out for jobs but since I could not express myself well, I could not get a job.

But who cares, I was predominantly concerned with my own thoughts and feelings rather than external things. I was shy, reticent and was often assumed to be self-centered for this reason I was counted to be one of the most worthless being, who was unable to crack an interview to get a job.

Often remarks and comments would fill in from everyone around me and discouraged I would shut myself in my room. Books had always been my best friends and that is what brought me close to her"Manorama". . . . . . . .

The encounter at the library was extremely funny, when she almost cribbed over a book which I was holding to be issued. She had a bouncy personality and a sugary voice, which I adored. When she pleaded me with those illusive dark eyes, I couldnot resist and my hand simply held the book towards her that she asked for. I was fantasized by the extreme beautiful smile on her face which any man could die for. She turned around to leave when she suddenly looked back again, Thank you" she said softly, her voice soothing and tinkled bells in my ears.

When I reached home, I could not stop thinking about her. Her big dark eyes lined with thick kohl, dark hair as if swirled around in my head, her smile seemed to spread pearls around. She was mystifying and her smile was magical, perhaps this was called "love", which I was experiencing for the first time. I pulled out my writing pad to scribble something, but could not concentrate. I could not share my feeling with others as well, I was too shy. I waited for the day impatiently when she would return the book to the library and I would get a chance to see her again.

She was there in the library, I spotted her but could not go near, she waved at me but I was too nervous to wave back at her. I immersed myself in a book thinking of ways to speak to her when I felt someone standing next to me nudging. "Do you not recognise me?"a soft chime soothened my ears. I looked away from the book towards her, our gaze met. . . I was hooked and could not look away from her. She was as beautiful as a dream, fantasy formed clouds in my mind. She seemed like a fairy to me. May be she understood the situation and smiled, "Coffee?"a little louder to shake me up from my dream, but louder enough to let the librarian look at us with frowing face. She almost pulled me out of the library and I followed her without a word, I was in a trance.

That evening when I returned back home and tried scribbling something on my notepad, her face lingered in my thoughts. I was so engrossed in her thought that I forgot to eat or drink as the days passed. . . . just scribbling about her in my notepad, about her beauty, about how she talked, smiled laughed everything. She was beginning to be my inspiration for writing. . . . . . a novel that i had always expected to write a magical. . . . fantasy. . . .

We started meeting often, but the more I met her, I found her to be more beautiful and mysterious, this gave me the exact water to the seed of my thoughts to germinate and bring in the novel I was writing. I spent days and night in her thoughts, scribbling in my notepad.

My family suddenly grew concerned about me. I was eating less, hardly came out of my room, I used to comeout only when I used to meet Manorama.

Days passed by, weeks went on, months ended and we came closer to each other.

I never felt a minute of boredom within her proximity. How time flew by I never knew, her sweet voice , beautiful smile would often take me to the dreamland.

We would meet often at the cafe, restaurant and the library. My writing went on. . . . I just did not stop to scribble . . . about my fantasy about "My Manorama"

I engrossed myself more in to writing.

I have heard "Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination" so I left my home and went in to the lap of nature in Doars. . . to give shape to my imagination~Manorama who followed me offcourse.

The beauty of the region lies not only in its lush green tea gardens but also in the dense jungle that makes up the countryside. The babbling river playing against the rocks, germination little droplets of water crystal clear as if thousands of sparkling diamonds breaking out from a big chunk. It was a exhilarating experience.  

Each moment that I spent with Manorama not only gave me inspiration to write and nurture my thoughts but each day spent was amazingly beautiful and thrilling.

And today when my book was published and the first 10, 000 copies were sold in just a single day making a record and few day later first 1 million copies were sold. . . . . I still remain that introvert except for only one who knew me from the very core. Manorama, the young bubbly, fascinating and enthusiastic girl made her way to the heart and life of this "author". I had completely fallen for her.

When we know love matters more than anything, and we know that nothing else really matters, we move into the state of surrender. A surrender that does not diminish our power, it enhances it.

The sun was setting with the emergence of the dusk, when I slowly walked towards the auditorium, this was my first appearence as an author in public but the strange fear and anxiety followed me. My palms were wet with the sweat, a dry throat longed for a gulp of water, I was nervous, I had never been in to such big gathering addressing around 50, 000 people in the auditorium!Suddenly I felt a grip in my hand. . . Manorama. . . . she was right beside me, her fingers intertwined mine, slowly she led me to the stage, where I was to share my experience about the book. With trembling feet I followed her in trance and I didnot realise when I stood in the midst of the blue radiant spot. The microphone was waiting for me. For the first time on stage in front of 50, 000 audiences I was to say something. . . .

"A. . hell. . . hello ever. . every one. . . . "my throat dried, I felt as if a roar of laughter floated from amongst the audiences as if to taunt me. I could not look at the crowd directly. . . then suddenly from the crowd emerged that beautiful smile, the big black eyes, the lush of black hair , looking at me straight to say"Why are you nervous?I am here with you!"

". . . . . . . and that's what gave birth to my novel" My Manorama. . . "I heard applauses all around impressed by my speech. I had for the first time spoken in public for such a long time. . . . I was overwhelmed. . . a confidence overpowered all my nervousness. . a new energy formed all around me , I could see my audiences, journalists, writers, authors flocked around me. . . and out of all those people a beautiful smile spreading pearls, big black eyes and the lush of dark hair. . . seemed gradually disappear.

As the crowd emerged towards me like the wave of the sea. . . slowly and gradually those eyes , smile and hair faded away within them. . . I felt as if my love , my Manorama was engrossed within me. . .

When we know love matters more than anything, and we know that nothing else really matters, we move into the state of surrender. A surrender that does not diminish our power, it enhances it. So did Manorama for me, my introvert character vanished, the new energy that I received through my inspiration Manorama blew away all my fear and panic. This was True love.

True love cannot be defined by any means, it is a cluster of adjectives, it is crazy, passionate, complicated, painful but most importantly True love is real.

It is that feeling of being inexplicably drawn to someone. Love is not finding someone who you can escape reality with but about finding someone who makes reality worthwhile. . . . . .

I smiled and looked up towards the sky. . . . My fantasy who made my reality worthwhile. . . . . . . . My Manorama. . My inspiration. . . my love. . . . . . Thank you for everything!