The White Scarf

"100 me 3, 50 me 1". replied the shop keeper.
But he didn't want 3. He wanted just one, one from the three scarfs he was already holding in his hands.
It was cheap... Very cheap and quality was also not bad. But if a person tries to sell 3 in 100 it is Bound to raise some eyebrows.

Just to be sure whether he wanted to buy 3 or not he picked up 3 scarfs from this small corner shop just in front of Calangute beach. The others had gone in search for a good place to have lunch since it was their last day in goa.

He thought perhaps if he could select a few from the rack, he might take an opinion of others once they come back on which one to buy.
Somehow in this selection he forgot the reason why he wanted to buy it. Honestly there was no reason for him to buy this.  He had picked up 3 scarfs. None of them were white considering the fact that white was his favourite colour.

He personally wasn't in the requirement of even one scarf.
So buying 3 sounded absolutely absurd.
No??

It took him sometime to figure out what he was actually doing. He was holding 3 scarfs yet he required not even one. And if at all he wanted one for himself it had to be white, but none where.
He starred at those colourful scarfs through his fast-track aviators wondering the same thing.

Suddenly he dropped everything and straight away when for this white scarf he found somehow magically appearing out of nowhere in the same rack.
He wondered again why he didn't found it in the first place.

Probably last night's beer was still kicking his senses time and again he felt.
But once he had that white scarf nothing looked better than it. Perhaps he was right and should have gone in with this choice in first place.

"Mujhe 3 ki zarurat nai hai.. aur ek ke Mai 50 nai Dene wala" he said to the shopkeeper but bought it eventually.

He wrapped it around his neck just to have a feel how it feels.
He took a selfie with it and WhatsApp it to her.
"How is it?"

As he waited for the picture to upload over a very slow internet connection, a swift wind blew past him. It took along the shorter edge of the scarf for a flip and as it came down it skidded across his face as lightly as the wind itself.
As if the winds whispered something naughty to which the scarf flapped out of shyness.
And then it happened again and again... and it somehow felt similar. But it did remind him about her. For it felt similar when her scarf touched her hands once.

"tumhare liye liya hai. lena padega ab" he typed next as the first message was just delivered. And the double tick's quickly turned blue as well.
she replied "toh apne gale me kyu dala hai?"

"Ganda karne ko" he typed first.
"GirlFriend ho kya meri tum Jo tumhe brand new Aur fresh du." he typed later.

Yes there was a hint of anger in her sentence, but it had more of a flirting outline to it.

He waited for the phone to vibrate from her reply. But little did he know that the coverage was no longer there.  He waited either for his friends to come or for her reply to come.

The salty and humid winds kept blowing and teasing the scarf along the way. Touching ever so smoothly where ever it fell on his body. This smooth touch reminded him about the feeling he had once he held her hands.

These girls, have absolutely no sense where they are going while talking, it was one such instance while walking and talking she ended up almost in the middle of the road. And he had pulled her to the side and near himself.

He held her hands barely for a few seconds but he wish never to let it go. For this was the moment he missed the most for it was the best moment. And that was all he ever prayed for as well.

“maine kaha kuch bola aisa… maat do nai chahiye toh…. Rakho apne pas he.” She replied.

“dekho zada bhav kane ki zarurat nai hai.. waise bhi sasta he tha..” he replied.

“maine kuch bola kya sasta hai ya mehenga.” She replied.

She was now starting to get on her nerves… he felt he should not have pinged her after all.

“aur use b issiliye kar raha hu taki meri di hui chiz ko dhoh k use kiya karo… kyuki I am an embarrassment for you… ” He replied.

“kyu???...kyuki mujhe khujli ki bimari hai……. kyuki mai Christian hu.” He replied with a very heavy breath and a heartbeat that felt like a bomb exploding in his chest.

“christian ka kabhi kuch bola maine apko… kuch bhi maat bolo” she replied.

She may have forgotten but he remembered. He was again thrown back to a time when this thing had indeed and eventually came up.

“mai aisa kuch nai manti” again she replied. But he still wondered whether she was telling the truth or lying again and it was argument he had in his mind countless times before as well. Somehow he no longer wanted to hold that scarf but yet there it was still wrapped around his neck.

“lena toh padega.. use karna ho toh karo.. pocha banana hoga toh banao.. I don’t care.” He typed.

“this is your goodbye gift.” He continued.

“mai kaha ja rahi hu..”  she asked.

“mai jar raha hu” he replied.

“kaha?” she asked.

“tumse dur” he replied.

“fir shuru hog aye aap??” she asked again.

“yes.. I have decided not to disturb henceforth.. self respectfully, image conscious, log kya kahenge types, pseudo busy, bahaanebaz, mai yeh sab nai manti wala jhoot bolne wali tumko” he concluded.

“maine aisa toh nai kaha” she asked.

“thik hai toh maine he keh diya. Tumse toh na kuch kaha jata hai na kara jata hai” he replied with a hint of wetness in his eyes.

Thing did escalate very quickly. He was still waiting for his friends to arrive. the only reason he wanted to buy it was for her only coz he knew it would look good on her. He wore it because he missed her and wished that the scarf could hold on to the fragrance of salty and moist sea winds and humid green air while he drived along the roads. He hoped that at least a soft, simple and non-living thing like this white scarf would bridge the gap between religion and faith. For it was only a sign of love and care he had felt for her before.

And indeed it was a goodbye gift for holding it did reminded one of the best moments he had with her and with it he wanted to let it go as well....