His hair was curly, all the way down his ears, reaching that nape of his. It gave me this sense to just nuzzle close and touch the fringe. Not too dark, nor was it auburn. Just like the color of his eyes. Looking at him is like looking into a transparent sheath of mirror. It felt like looking through him, so lucid. He looked at me, nodded his head and smiled. That smile was warm, sincere and infectious. I smiled too and took a seat next to him. We exchanged HIs and later introduced ourselves. He has this very soft look on his face, the one that you'd never get bored looking at, and the way he uttered his words was just as soft. I'd imagined him flaunting his accent, but not at all. With much difficulties, he tried hard to string his sentences and to find the right words. Mujtaba, the Iranian and Hung, the Vietnamese, were really focussed in trying to understand his ideas of the GIS. I noticed that he had a black-colored Collin's Inglis Pocket Dictionary, and at times attentively jotting down Antonia's notes.
I was so much engrossed in my observation till Hung's regular snorts of flu and scratchings of his hair made their way. I pushed my bag nearer to me and instantly shifted closer to my left, to his side. I was uneasy. He must have sensed that for he offered Hung some tissues. Yeah ... I saw them, neatly stacked, which much to my suprise, Hung refused. Hmmm ... thoughtful ... and sensitive, making an even more complete outline of what a person he could be. He had certainly become my object of further scrutiny. I wrote what they said, recorded the details of Mujtaba's dilemma and of Hung's views. They discussed the points as if I did not even exist. That was what happened if you belonged to a group of 4 men. But I was too happy with that, as I continued stealing the many looks of him. He must have not shaved for some days, still the thin red lips were smacking. The nook of his nose was perfect and the eyes ... that deep, deep look they're capable of ... were captivating. I watched the way he listened and responded. By then, I was already in cloud nine. Hung and Mujtaba became the near "invisible fixture" by now, disappearing bit by bit into the thin air.
As swift as he turned, we exchanged looks. He led his finger to the paper and looked at me again. Put it down, your ideas, he smilingly said. He caught me redhanded! What an apt moment! That one hour passed in a blink. He told me he'd be back for the evening session and asked if I would too. Sadly, I shook my head. Damn, I cursed myself. I registered for the one on Wednesday. He nodded again, wished me luck and left. I could only watch him leaving, even Antonia's concluding remarks sounded alien to me. The only thing that came to my mind was that I'm not going to see him again. It felt awkward. There were tickles of sadness in me. I didn't sulk the whole of the next 2 hours, but found myself staring out from one of the windows in one corner of the Silent Zone. Gazing out at the sky, I saw sun and droplets of rain. But too soon after, there it stood. It was simply majestic, too magnificent to be described. I lost my words, only to realise that it brought the smile back on me. The brilliant colors that painted the bluish grey sky were spectacular. My first rainbow here, and it came to me when I needed it most.
They said there is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I have never believed in it, until today. At the end of the rainbow, I grabbed my bag and left. I was content. At the end of the rainbow, I started to count my steps home. I was pleased. But alas, at the end of the rainbow, I saw MY pot of gold. I was dumbfounded. At the end of the rainbow, I saw Roma'n. He waved, and etched that same unforgetable smile ...
It was just magic ...
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