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Once upon a time
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Seeing him this moment, anybody would have said, "Hey! That's the man in love."
A good-looking young man, dressed in smart clothes, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands and a shy, somewhat nervous smile on his face, standing in front of a closed door. A closer look at the bouquet would have revealed a card on which only a loving hand could have written... 'Happy birthday, beautiful.'
The observer by this time might have deduced that this was the young man's first visit to the beautiful lady's house. And before ringing the doorbell he perhaps was rehearsing his lines one more time. What to say. How to smile, how to...
"Hey! Enough of this nonsense now," Neeraj scolded himself and rang the doorbell. The sound was like divine music to Neeraj's ears. "It is as sweet as her voice," he thought.
But sight didn't follow the sound any soon. The door remained closed. After waiting for quite some time, Neeraj rang the bell again but still no response.
Even the third try failed to move the door that looked more like a solid wall erected against the world, than an ordinary house door.
Now expressions of doubt and uncertainty crept into Neeraj's deep brown eyes. He checked the door carefully. There was no name plate but the number was no doubt the same that he had learnt by heart. "I am sure this is the right address. But then was it possible that he had arrived on the wrong day?"
But before he could think any further, the door opened. All the rehearsed lines were forgotten. Neeraj was left standing all tongue-tied with a foolish grin on his face and his slightly extended hands holding the flowers.
The woman standing at the door looked at Neeraj. First with some irritation, then astonishment, and ultimately a broad smile lit up her wrinkled old face.
"What a surprise... What an absolutely lovely, beautiful, amazing surprise," she exclaimed, clasping her hands. And before Neeraj could say anything, she took the flowers from his extended hands.
The flowers were beautiful, but not fragrant. But still the lady put them to her face and took a deep breath with her eyes closed. All Neeraj could do was stare at her.
Caressing the flowers, the woman opened her eyes and asked, "Who has sent this?" Neeraj found his voice at last. "Nobody. I mean I brought them for..." he managed to mumble.
"Oh! really?" the woman's eyes widened in delight. Then a tinge of doubt crept in her voice. "But you seem to be so young... how could you remember... how did you know that it's my birthday today?"
"Well..." Neeraj's voice faltered. But it didn't take long for the woman to find the answer to her question. Her eyes lit up. "Hmmm, you saw Sultana."
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