Thoughtless body

What would be your first thought when you see a well-endowed teenage girl sitting across the table, stretching her arms towards the sky, with the fingers of both arms entwined to form an arch, flexing her body in a yawn?

This time, I pitied.

I pitied out of the realization that the unconscious emboldening which had made her oblivious to her surroundings was going to be short-lived. Over the period of the next few years or months or even a few weeks, time and experience will scrape off the last remnants of this innocence from her. Very shortly, she will learn that not always will the person sitting opposite her take his eyes away hastily, moving away and engaging in some philosophical indulgence. I am sure I never indulged thus before.

My pity was perhaps more out of my own predicaments of the past, balancing my thoughtless body and its watchful surroundings.

I wonder when was the last time I sat bare-chested, at ease, for more than ten minutes at a stretch, watching the television at home, at peace, undisturbed by the call of the doorbell, at whose stroke my wife would scramble to pick up a rag for me to make me ‘decent’. Apparently, I was never able to convince her that this carefree bare-lazing, at least within my own house, was my freedom in my own sense. Somehow, I feel the EMIs paid are giving me increasingly lesser value of freedom.

I wonder when was the last time I warmly hugged a friend, giving a damn about the fact that he was male, or even female. I don’t remember. I wonder when was the last time I held someone’s hand while talking to him or her. Long gone are those carefree days of thoughtless indulgence.

The body has become thoughtful.