The curse of beauty

From July you can expect new stories.Till then please bear with repeats of old stories that you might have missed reading

It was a very crowded hall. I was standing in a corner watching the people. Some were moving past me staring at me at the same time and a few scurrying along without noticing me. I always curse myself for the beauty that god has endowed me with. The pity is I have heard people say that I am a knock down gorgeous woman and would figure above nine in a scale of one to ten..You can put me in late twenties with a figure that is sure to win hands down a Miss World contest.. The sharp chiseled features with a nose that could make Cleopatra jealous and eyes that could mesmerize even a sage were my bane..

I hate being stared at and all the waking hours people ogle at me with covetous eyes. I am aware that extreme good looks can isolate people and make them objects of envy of women and adoration of men. There is also the tendency for people when they look at the beautiful women to assume they are proud, arrogant and selfish which I am not. Be that as it may, let me recount the incident that happened today.

I noticed this handsome young man giving me all his undivided attention. He was not moving as others did after a furtive glance or a cold stare. He stood transfixed like a statue at a distance from me eyeing me all the time. I averted his gaze but could sense his deep eyes groping on me. No doubt he was very attractive, tall, muscular and dusky with dark hair that curled and fell on his face. I don’t know how to describe his pointed but curious look though I felt inwardly flattered. I didn’t like his eyes grazing on my midriff that remained carelessly uncovered by the sari that I wore.

When some people seemed to notice his standing for a long time at the same place, he moved to another area a few feet away without averting his gaze. I feared whether his intentions were honest but felt the comfort of the constant crowd around me...When the crowd started thinning, he came closer and walked around me though he made no advances. May be he was a silent admirer of beauty as I saw from my sideward glance his taking pictures of me surreptitiously on his mobile. I didn’t object as I am used to this annoyance.

I don’t know how long I was standing lost in my thoughts. The hall was practically empty except for a few moving fast engrossed in their own preoccupations. It was then this young man made bold to approach me and audaciously stroke my bare midriff and thereafter kiss his hands. I was dumbstruck at his impetuosity though to be honest I felt happy and even had half a mind to hug him.

It was then I heard the security shouting at him “Keep off the statues. Don’t you see the board warning you not to touch the articles under display in the museum?”