The Trainer...contd.

There are a few days in every woman's life when she feels perpetual happiness. The days when she believes herself to be in love! Shweta, was certain she could never think of any other man. And there was just something about this man that kept her wondering. Quickly her life had fallen into the routine. Her cab reached a good ten mintes before his' arrived. She would rush to the coffee vending machine, grab her cup and rush out again just to catch a glimpse of him as he descended from his cab. He always smiled but never really stayed on to chat. The customary smile, the informal nod and the small talk before he moved away. Shweta could not find any fault in him. As a trainer he was just perfect. She heard with complete attention as he explained the technicalities. She always believed herself to be bad with computers yet with him around she was learning quickly. There were those days however when he was a bit too near for comfort, explaining the step ahead on her workstation. She had noticed everything about him. The way he seldom smiled during class, the uncanny sparkle in his eyes whenever he laughed. The way he stood, completely at ease with himself, his steady walk, the thick baritone voice cultured to perfection and not to mention heady whiff of soap.
Soon Shweta felt the uneasiness settle in the pit of her stomach. She had never realized when the thirty day training period had dwindled away and she was all set to hit the floor as they called it. She knew she had done well...there was not one person who had matched up to her knowledge of the process yet she was unsure of the next day. The party had been everything she had not expected...a whole lot of fun. They had danced till their heels hurt, had toasted to every single state in US of A...yet somehow as she moved out into the still cold night she felt completely drained. She felt anger surge through her as she realized she was out of matches.
"Here...let me help you," the voice was close by and Shweta had no need to look. She bent and felt his thumb gently brush against her cheeks, took a long puff and moved away, looking towards him light his own cigarette.
"Congrats..." he said and she smiled.
"Well. Thanks...I just doubt whether i really deserve it!"
"Of course you do. You were the best." he said and Shweta dared to look into his eyes, the frankness too palpable.
"Uh...I just..."
"Don't worry Shweta...you would do just fine...I know it." he said and Shweta knew he was about to leave again. There was no one outside smoking so she did have the opportunity of standing close to him. She would not be able to meet him now, maybe not even see him. At that moment perhaps Shweta should have told him yet courage seemed to fail her. She puffed away silently, feeling sadness engulf her.
"That's my cab." he said and Shweta looked around.
"You are not staying longer?"
He hesitated for just a second and Shweta felt he knew but then he smiled and she was unsure again.
"I am not getting the weekend off...you enjoy the party and all the best. I know you would do well."
Her smile died as he turned away and started walking out of the premises. That was it...Shweta thought silently and wondered...
"Hey Sanjay," she called and he turned.
She wanted to tell him she completely adored him, wondered if they could have something more than just a polite hi and bye? Yet somehow courage left her door that instant and she smiled...
"Could you lend me the matchbox?" she asked and Sanjay smiled, took it out casually and flipped it towards her and was gone. Shweta stared at the small box. It was an AIM box and nimbly she flipped it around to read the small quotes it was famous for. A tear trickled down her face as she wrapped her fingers around it. She instantly knew that she would never let go of this matchbox...

concluding part on Wed 6th dec 06