Smiley Girl

The one with an ear-to-ear grin, another sulking and a third one shedding tear drops like a dark bulbous cloud bursts into rain were the smileys she used most; the first being her clear favourite. I never thought internet icons could actually define anyone but the smileys did characterise her in a strange way.

Like the smileys, she seemed to laugh heartily. Just like a child. Sometimes, she appeared to be crying inconsolably too. As a child would, after losing the doll she loved most. Now she would be on cloud nine and the next moment, she would be lost somewhere.

She was completely in love with life even though she seemingly had no clue of it sometimes and tried very hard to pull herself together to stand up to it. No matter if the odds were stacked against her. That's what I liked about her. She never seemed to give up on hope even in the depths of hopelessness.

******

"Are you writing some short-story or what?" I asked as I read through the lines standing quietly behind him on the computer last evening.

"Why do you ask?" he replied without bothering to look at me. Incorrigible is probably what he wanted to say but didn't. He knew I had this tendency of barging in. He did not try to stop me. It would have been futile. So, he got back to the keyboard like I did not exist.

******

Last time, I caught hold of her online she was pulling her hair out in frustration over some office work she had not been able to wrap up. The computer ‘hanged’ one time too many, she complained before realizing and correcting herself - ‘it hung.’ She did that often and I always pointed it out.

Sometimes I thought she used smileys with such frequency that the mis-spellings were anything but natural despite her possessing a fine flair for writing. Mamma made a ‘yummg’ curry, she said the other night before making amends for it – Ooops! It was ‘yummy.’ I guess ‘yummg’ is yummier than ‘yummy,’ I told her. The ear-to-ear grinning icon was back.

******

“Will you tell me what this is about,” I was getting curious and clearly losing patience. “Is this some kind of dedication or what?” I shot another query.

“No. I had promised I would write about her once in my website before she went away,” he said.

“Where is she going? What do you mean by ‘before she went away?’ ” I followed up with more.

“I can’t tell you everything, can I? All I can say is she will be gone soon.” He got back to writing.

******

It’s a tough phase for her. Defining, perhaps. And she was sacrificing a lot for it. Still she foresaw herself in disasters sometimes. For a 20-something, it must have been unsettling but she never complained.

“I am worried about you,” I told her once. “Even I am worried about myself,” she replied.

“I wish I could do something beyond praying for you.”

“Prayers are all I need,” she said.

One more smiley followed. This one was immersed in deep thoughts.