The elevator

There should be a word for the feeling the feeling you get when
your shoelace loosens and is about to get untied. You can sense it.
Your shoe loosens up a bit, the feeling is a cocktail of very slight relief
(which the loosen shoe brings) and the annoyance that the inertia of
loosen shoe has. As you can very well see, this is a feeling which one
has to feel. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, I say a
"feeling is worth a million. And thus even my million words wont be
able to do justice to the feeling.
So one fine day, my newly out-of-college-just-got-inside-MNC self
found this peculiar middle feeling. The feeling of which I just now
made an audacious attempt to describe. My left shoe wanted to get
pampered. It was warranting my attention and wanted to get tied
again, more tightly. If getting this weird feeling wasnt enough I went
into a spontaneous competition with my shoe. I wanted to see for how
long would my shoelace hold up. Rather for how long could I hold up
and not give into the temptation to tie it back again. I was with one of
my friends, walking out of the "work area" towards the elevator for an
early lunch. As we took a left and entered the lobby, my friend
remembered" that he had forgotten" his wallet. And thus took a uturn and went back to fetch it. This was when I finally decided to give
up the competition. To utilize the idle time to tie my about-to-getuntied shoe lace rather than squander it looking aimlessly at the
striped carpeted floor or the large posters which I saw tens of times
everyday. After punching in the appropriate buttons (the elevator in
my office asked for the floor you wanted to go to instead of just
up/down), I moved aside a bit, knelt down and tilted my head down to
get in the position to tie the lace. At that moment nothing in the world
existed for me- just me, the nearly untied lace, and the little area of
floor which was currently in my field of vision. It was then when I saw
her or rather part of her.
It was her feet that had so very smoothly made an entry into my
limited area of vision. It was just there. so close inches away
from my left shoe. Inches away from me. Her feet were beautiful, so
very delicate and so very pious. Those were very petite pair of feet,
the shoes complimenting their delicateness. She was wearing a dark

blue, velvet fabric shoes. It was one of those kinds of shoes,

absolutely flat with no heal, which revealed some parts of the feet, but
toes are covered. They hid the toes but were just about revealing the
hint of cleavage" between the toes. Those pair of feet blew my head
off.
It was with the emergence of these angel-like feet, that I realized I
must be in presence of a divine beauty. It took me a mere second to
feel all that I have just described and warrant an involuntary turning
up of my head to have a look at my new pretty companion. And yes, I
was not disappointed.
She was as easy on eyes as you could extrapolate from seeing those
angel-like feet. Poised, petite and poignant. there was something
about her, which I didnt find in most other girls. Her brain must have
registered the sudden movement of my head in the corner of her
eyes. She involuntarily looked for the cause of the sudden change in
her surroundings. It was then that she saw me. She saw me looking
at her. She saw me, tying my lace and looking at her. Rather she saw
me intending to tie my lace but pausing as if for some very important
work, and shamelessly looking at her. Our eyes met. It was that time,
when out of embarrassment both the concerned people instantly look
away, as if shying from some crime they were stealthy committing. So
yes, I shied away and again tilted my head downwards to tie my
shoelace. Years of tying shoelaces finally meant that the act was
engrossed into my muscle memory and my mind was free to
appreciate the most beautiful thing it had seen in the whole of
Bangalore- those beautiful feet.
After tying was done and my competition with my shoe got over, I got
up again and waited for the lift to come. Never in my life did I like
waiting for the lift so much as I did at that moment. Hell, I wished that
it never came. I was standing there, just beside her. I couldnt see her
properly (she was too close and you cant see someone too close
while keeping your head straight) but was enchanted by her presence
nonetheless. "I found it, said my friend, dont know if to break the
spell that I was in, or to share his happiness. The happiness and
relief of finding something that you suspected that you might have
just lost forever. Didnt know what exactly it was but I take it that my
expressions made it clear to him that, at that moment, I didnt care.

The doors of the elevator slid open. Unconsciously I walked in,

closely following her. In retrospect, probably a bit too closely. After
entering an elevator one does the ritual - one enters the lift and then
turns around to face the door. This ordinary act had never ever
proven to be so delightful (and so useful) as it did that time. So as I
was saying, I followed her, and was waiting for her to turn around.
And turn around she did. And again she saw me looking at her (dejavu?). She probably noticed that ideally it was about time that I should
have turned too, and the fact that I deliberately delayed.
Not probably, I am absolutely sure that she knew that I deliberately
delayed. And still I am pretty sure she didnt mind (or so I wish). So I
turned (with a heavy heart, obviously), and following me in the lift was
my friend and some random people I didnt know. Since the lift was
pretty empty, I stood (as etiquettes dictate) at a slight distance from
her. The doors of the elevators slid shut and its mirror like polished
surface reflected her pretty face. The face, which in the reflection, I
noticed, was stealing a glance of me. Or rather stealing a glance of
my reflection. It was kind of a token. A token which gave me the
permission to again have a look at a thing of beauty, which i knew in
my heart, would be a joy for ever.
She, akin to me, was wearing specs. The specs were so minimalistic,
that I dont remember the frame. She had straight her. Long, dark
black, straight hair, which were tied in a nice ponytail. A ponytail
befitting her elegance. The whole look being embellished with the
jewelry that she was wearing. And she was wearing none. Her face
had this peaceful look. Not the kind of peaceful look you find in saints,
not the peaceful look which says that I now know it all; but the kind of
peaceful look you find in kids, the look which says, I know that I dont
know a lot, but I dont care and still am very happy with myself and
my life. Everything about her dripped elegance. Being simple and
beautiful is a charm unmatched. A charm which I have seldom seen
in people of my age group. And I was pretty optimistic she was of my
age.
So here we were, having sneak peak at each others reflections. It
was then when I broke into a semi smile. A half smile. It is not what
you are thinking it is! The smile wasnt for her. Neither was it a lewd
smile. I smiled at my silliness. Although I was having a sneak peak at

her reflection, contrary to my misconception, she wasnt looking at

mine. Rather she was looking at the floor number which the lift was
headed too, the look which I had happily and perhaps wishfully
misinterpreted. It was the realization of this foolishness of mine that
had made me smile. And till this day I am glad that I smiled because it
made her smile. A smile which began in her eyes, and which she, to
my dismay, stopped as soon as it reached her lips.
Apart from the unparalleled view of the city (especially during the
rains), I finally got one more reason to like my office on 28th floor.
Going from 28th floor to the cafeteria (7th floor) took a decent amount
of time, even in an elevator. A time which you would thoroughly relish
if you have a company akin to what I had on that eventful day.
As the doors opened at the 7th floor, the hustle brought me back to
the real world. A distant commotion was in the air, as expected.
People started getting out of the elevator. I dont know why but I
wanted her to go out first and then follow her. But this would have
been too clichd. Me getting aside and indirectly signaling her ladies
first.. nah too cheesy. And thus I decided to act coolly and to go
ahead of her. As I stepped out and started walking I could sense her
staying there and not getting out. Standing there in the lift . as is.
And it was then I realized that her destination was not 7th but was
ground floor. And I got the feeling. The feeling you get when you
realize that life can troll you in ways unfathomable by your little brain.
I could hear the elevator door behind me getting shut. I even turned
to make sure if she was gone. And indeed she was.
There was something about her demure demeanor. She wasnt the
girl whom you just find attractive today but forget the next day. But
was the girl whom you find beautiful today and are not able to forget
for years to come. She wasnt just another pretty face you would
come across while walking in the mall. But was the face you are
reminded of, each and every time you see one. She was a beauty
you yearn for. She was the one you want to grow old with. She was
the Mal with whom Cobb inside you could lay on a railway track for.
She wasnt just one of your flames. She was THE flame. She wasnt
just a flame in your heart. She was the flame which your heart wishes
to burn in.

Its been a few months since that incident. And still whenever I get
that feeling. the feeling that my shoelace is about to get untied, I
am reminded of her. And whenever I kneel down to tighten my
shoelaces, I wish for a miracle. A miracle to see those flat blue shoes
again. A miracle to see those angelic feet again. A miracle to see that
girl from elevator again.
P.S: for those who are wondering why my friend kept quite the whole
time and didnt poke his nose, well, what can I say, he knew the bro
code.