Love by the first Stanza

"S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse

A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,

Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.

Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo

Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,

Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo."

Katie stood there in the corner of the room. Her lips smiling, her eyes dead and her brains usually asking her why she was doing this to herself. She was at a party. She barely remembered the last time she was at one of these things; she deliberately repressed that stressful, awkward social memory. It was a drunken memory; it only existed in little pieces and fragments in her mind.

It was the kind of company that made her uncomfortable. It was held in a large square-ish room with dim lights and music. The music wasn’t too loud or too soft. That was the only perfect part of the ambience.

She knew the people there, by the distinct features of their faces and by their different names. According to her however, all their minds were just the same shallow pools, everyone there had about as much depth as a puddle of water on flat surface.

There were people here that she liked more than other, despite their differences. They were nice people. 

Genuine people, but nothing like her. She was boring, self-righteous and would have rather spent an evening in a dungeon with books and rag like clothes, than with her former lover and his friends like she was doing right now. To add to that she was in a pair of high heels and a chiffon dress, and all she really wanted to do this Saturday night was to watch a movie at home and read into the early hours of the morning. Given a choice, this girl would pick the dungeon with the books over most things.

She stood there, a person in a literal social circle of people. She knew most of the faces, the ones she didn’t know she didn’t bother learning. She blocked all their voices out and lost herself in her own thought. She wondered if any of them would be able to speak to her about Orwell’s 1984. She longed for someone young’s opinion on his work before she began reading it.

“Wishful thinking” she murmured, only loud enough for her to hear.

Katie’s mind wandered off to a saying she once read. It was something about there being no advantage for a man who can read and doesn’t, over a man who cannot read; was it Mark Twain who said that?

Lost in her mind she heard an unfamiliar voice say some very familiar words.

“Let us go then, you and I, 
When the evening is spread out against the sky 
Like a patient etherized upon a table; 
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, 
The muttering retreats...” And the words ended there.

This little poetic display was followed by several ‘ooohhs’ and girlish sighs, which came from the people around her.

The voice belonged to a boy, probably who was nineteen, twenty maybe. He stood in the same circle of people with Katie. His hair grew just a little over the top of his ears and slanted to the right over his forehead, nowhere near his eyes. His eyes smiled and held their own and his mouth was twisted into a smug grin.

It was annoying her.

Someone from the circle said in somewhat of an inspired tone “Whoa that was nice bro. Did you write it?”

“What do you think?” he responded.

The girl next to him held his arm and said “Stop being so modest! I know you wrote it.”

The impish grin didn’t leave his face, “Of course I did,” he said as he sipped from his glass. Trying to hide something that was much too obvious.

“Plagiarist.” Said Katie, loud enough for just about everyone in the formation to hear.

This was the first time she bothered to say something other than the necessary pleasantries she made with people. This, according to her though was a much needed word.

“I’m sorry, what?” said the plagiarist.

“Nothing, you write really well,” she said abruptly, trying to avoid even the slightest conversation.

He looked her in the eye, and that grin was more impish than ever, “Well, if you’re calling me a thief you owe it to me to tell me why, don’t you think so? “

Katie couldn’t believe someone would doubt her about such things. She turned away from him, looked at the people around her and subtly made an announcement, “I like writing too, and what he said here was truly wonderful and inspiring. I mean, I could almost hear what could fit those lines that he wrote; it just seems to be coming to me.” She paused and got a quick glance at his delightfully puzzled face.

“Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels.. And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument..Of insidious intent..To lead you to an overwhelming question…“Katie took a deep breath “Oh, do not ask, ‘What is it?’ Let us go and make our visit.” She concluded.

There was a brief silence among them, before her ex said, “Wow, that was really nice.”

“I couldn’t think of a better fit” smiled the plagiarist

“Are you convinced?” she asked him.

“Yes, but it would be nice if you took heed of the point that I was trying to make.”

“Would that point be, pointing out all the obvious ignorance in the room, because that would be moot, since I’ve already proved you wrong”

“You, madam are an unexpected, pleasant surprise amidst it all. I bet you think I am too,” There it was again, the impish grin came back on his face.

“I don’t associate with people from the underbelly of the literary world, “she teased.

They didn’t notice that the people they were standing with all fell silent during their conversation.

The girl who still had her arm around his gave Katie the stink eye and asked what probably everyone was thinking, “Do you guys know each other?”

Before Katie could answer, the plagiarist moved the girls arm from his, “Regrettably, no” he said. He extended his hand toward Katie and said, “Ron.”

“Katie” she responded taking his hand, “it’s nice to meet you” said Ron.

“Likewise” she said, “Though I expected your name to be T.S Eliot, honestly, I’m a little disappointed.”

He was laughing and they were still holding hands, till someone cleared their throat. They let go and looked away from each other. The two of them however, had smiles on their faces. They didn’t say another word to each other for most of the night.

Katie’s smile would turn into a smirk from time to time.

They’d steal glances in each other’s directions. They knew this was more than just a casual meeting, they had built a connection. A connection, not based on infatuation, hormones, looks or personality. A connection built on words. There was something there, something which hadn’t been given a name yet, something that could be called ‘Love by the first stanza’

Copyright © Kanika Chopra. 2012.