My first encounter with her right shoulder came when I hurriedly approached a amassed empty bench at Kanpur station on my way back to college. As I was helping myself into the tiny space available, my left shoulder rubbed a adjoining shoulder. I shot a firing glance at the bothered shoulder, and the next second my frame shrunk, lost and gave way to her shoulder. Her beauty was not spellbinding compared to what I had witnessed recently at Banaras and Delhi, but her timid, cute face and her gritty right shoulder made for a interesting combination. With earphones on, preferring not to speak, she waved a suave finger at my shoulder making me shrivel my frame and even drooping it, vacating space for the feisty right shoulder. I clearly lacked the uncanny quality she had, and thus, my shoulder sagged, complying with my diffident nature.
Weird, it may seem, but I wanted to catch her attention, actually the attention of the 'bolder her'. I wanted to nudge her slightly, have a small shoulder chat, but bold is not the word you attach with me, let alone my shoulder-the timider me. She was kept engrossed by her earphones and I was engrossed in hope for a small prod by the bolder her to the timider me. As my hope burst away, I soon puffed another-'one with her seated beside me in the train', ignorant of the fact that she might be in a different train altogether. Right then her train came bursting away the latest hope of mine, and grabbing her luggage she walked off, with her timid gait but cruising shoulders. She hopped on, with the train just starting to leave. My eyes followed her for one last time, her timid face, those black earphones and that right shoulder, all fading away ,and despairingly, I went tiptoed to catch a glimpse of the bolder her-The Right shoulder.
