Wait for me by moon light

“Hungry?” He asked
“hmm” I nodded my head
“I have some biscuits,Do you want to eat that or do you want to eat in a restaurant?”
“Restaurant”
“what do you feel like eating?”
“anything”
“Ok, come let us go”
He got up first and helped me to get up. he held my hands as we climbed down the rocks. He was so sure footed and as I let him guide me. It was so easy to allow him to guide me. I could trust him with my life.
“There should be some restaurants in Kolar, you want to go there?”
“Sure”
He started the bike and I sat behind him. I no longer felt shy to hold him. Why should I feel shy, when we would be husband and wife soon?
Couple of kilometers later, we spotted a restaurant on the left side of the road.
“Want to eat here?” he asked
“Sure”
The place was actually an old house converted to a restaurant. It had long widows painted blue and a few tables on the terrace. It was too hot to dine outside, so we walked inside, hand in hand and I remembered the verses
And hand in hand
on the edge of the sand
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Edward Lear.
Why are you smiling?” He asked
“I remembered a poem”
“Which one?”
“I will tell you later. Let us find a place to sit”
There was few tables near the counter. It looked very dark and shabby. I looked around, there was another room at the back that looked more brighter
“Can we sit there?” I asked Beautiful Eyes
“Sure”
The second room was more brighter because the roof had glass tiles
“You see that?” I pointed the roof to Beautiful Eyes
“Yeah, it is nice isn’t it?”
“My grandmother’s kitchen also had a glass roof tile. In the early morning you can see the beam of sun light entering the kitchen and when I was little, I used to sit on the floor and try to catch the ‘sparkling’ dust that floats in the sun beam. I was forever grabbing the shiny dust hoping it would illuminate my hand like it does in the sun light. It was so disappointing that I could never catch the dust!”
“Gosh Nina, how do you remember all these?”
“Don’t know. I just remember things!”
“What do you want to eat?”
I checked the menu
“I will have ghee rice”
“What about you?”
“Chicken 65, cauliflower manchurian, dal and plain rice”
We ordered the food
“What was the poem you remembered?”
“Edward Lear’s owl and the pussy cat”. I recited the poem for him
“That is a funny poem. What is a quince?”
“It is a fruit. I have never seen it”
“Who is your favourite poet?” He asked
“Keats. I love his poems. What about you?”
“Not much in to poems. But I loved Highway man by Alfred Noyes. I had to study that for my plus 2″

Look for me by moon light
watch for me by moonlight
I ‘ll come to thee by moonlight
though hell should bar the way!” I sung it for him

“You studied it too?”
“Oh yes, I read that poem so many times. I used to imagine the highway man riding the horse over the cobble stone path, how Bess waited for him and how they kissed! I can still see Bess trying to free her hands so she can pull the trigger and warn him”
“Love is never fair isn’t it?”
“Love is fair, we are not fair towards love. When two people are happy, we don’t leave them alone do we? We have the desire to do things to break them apart right? If Tim never felt jealous, Bess wouldn’t have died, don’t you think?”
“Who do you think going to break us apart?” He asked. He looked so worried.
“George for one”
“What is his problem? Why does he want to break us up?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea. He just don’t like me to do well”
“hmm” He mumbled
The waiter brought our food. We shared the curry and I noticed he was sweating profusely while trying to eat the chicken 65.
“You can’t eat spicy food can you?” I asked
“I can, this is a bit too spicy”
“Why did you order chicken 65? You could have ordered malai chicken, No?” I scolded him
“Nina, I know how much you love to eat spicy food”
“So? I won’t die just because I didn’t get spicy food”
“baby, don’t worry. I am fine”
I felt so emotional when I realized it was the first time someone ever bothered to order something, because he knew what I liked. At home Amma always made what my sisters wanted to eat.
He couldn’t eat spicy food, still he ordered it, because he cared that much for me. I reached out and held his hand. Because I was grateful. I knew I am the luckiest girl on planet earth to have found him. My precious Naga warrior.

Does anyone remember the name of this restaurant, on NH4, before the turn off to Madras,( about a km before the traffic light) on the left side. Most of the staff were malayalees.

5 thoughts on “Wait for me by moon light

  1. There are things that you don’t remember too!!!
    Because the way you write, you seem to have a photographic memory. I am a regular reader of your posts but have never commented. I loved your ammachi-related posts. There was always something to learn in them.
    I don’t know whether I am trivialising it for you since I believe you are writing about your life. But I read your posts the way that I would read a story. It doesn’t really matter to me how true or fictionalized it is. And purely from that point of view, I really enjoyed your previous few posts about the conversations between Nina & Beautiful eyes. It brings out a relationship which seems so deliciously complementary. And you educate through your posts. And that’s lovely.

  2. Rajesh: Ofcourse there are things I don’t remember.
    But that isn’t the point. the issue here is the torture my mind makes me go through when I can’t remember something.
    My inability to remember something that I want to remember bothers me, it keeps coming back in my head and till I get it/remember it..
    Right now all I can see is the sign board placed in an angle in front of the restaurant, light blue paint on a white back ground..I remember the light blue paint was really faded and most of it had gone.
    I can’t remember the name and it bothers me. Why? I don’t know and most importantly I don’t know why I need to remember that, but I want to and I will keep looking till I find it.

    Upsi: Ah the food! gosh I miss Bangalore

    Shalini: Even I liked the poem.. a lot

  3. hey lovely post …well dpeicted emotions … I too have loved highway man in my growing up years …. and I somehow believe that its more important that we share that kind og love with soemone rather than the length of the time spent … that such emotions existed between highwayman and bess was the hilight of the poem .

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