Smitten

“You fill up my senses…come fill me agaaaaaain”, I crooned. Ok. Maybe it was crowing. Beside me sat my 3 year old niece looking at me with a particularly droll expression on her face.  I continued my singing because I respect John Denver and bored little tyke next to me or not, Annie’s song deserved completion. Or so I thought. The brat scampered off in the middle of my next verse. I’d just gotten started!

With no audience and a deep sigh, I set aside the beautiful string instrument I could barely play and allowed my thoughts to drift off to their favorite stimuli – A woman. A woman I had seen in the past. For entirely too brief a time. But for some darn reason, I was smitten. Smitten is a way I hadn’t been since I was 14 and laid my eyes on a girl in the same room where I was writing an exam. Before you ask – Yes, I passed the exam. Did I forget the girl ? Not for a while. Then a few months later I saw the girl again and the little pink hearts in my eyes reappeared. Regardless, As an adult did I ever think I would be smitten again ? Me ? Scoff. Nooooo. Then I saw her. I was proved horribly wrong.

I knew I had shake myself out of this ridiculous captivation. What were the chances I was to ever see her again? Nada. Zilch, My head screamed. But being the stuffy person I was – I hadn’t allowed myself the charm of being enamored with someone for a long long time. And I decided, This woman – I may as well feel her a wee bit. Enjoy that googly eyed feeling. Trust those butterflies in my otherwise perpetually hungry stomach. Sing songs that spoke of loving again at the top of my musically challenged voice. So I wondered like most hopelessly crushing people do – About her. What was she like ? A romantic or a cynic ? Hot tempered or infinitely patient ? What were the colors of her eyes ? Dark warm brown or twinkling coal black ? What made her laugh ? subtle banter or dirty teasing ? What surprise would our first date ( yes, yes, I get ahead of myself very often) bring ? A huddled and cuddled walk in the rain ? Or a kiss beside the sleepy blue ocean ? What did she smell like ? No. 5 ? or was she more Parisienne ?

Just as I was moving onto distinctly more un-prurient thoughts, the little brat came skipping back into the room. My head immediately entered PG mode. The tyke indicated it was going to play. I picked up the little one. While tickling her I yelped, “Play ?! But who is going to listen to me sing?” She giggled and shook her head sideways. Apparently, three year olds don’t care much about my heart and its best interests. So I cuddled her because even if three years olds are heartless, they are cute and then put her down. The brat skipped away. And I was left once again with my smitten self. Wondering if I would ever see the woman again. Suddenly I realized it was Sunday –  I had to go into work the next morning. I grinned.

There I would see her again.

My workplace crush

Her blackberry and gorgeous heels

Always in a rush

Smitten I would be

Longing to see her face once more

Alas, she ignores me

So in secret, I shall adore

About the author

Queer Coolie

Queer Coolie is the pink and cheery avatar of a single Indian lesbian recently repatriated from the US. She also dabbles at being the following - Editor @gaysifamily | Dimsum Lover | Kettlebell Swinger | Startup Standup | Bathroom Beyoncé