Voyeurism in the City

Perhaps the most underrated aspect of living in a city is getting to see people naked on a regular basis. Not their bodies. Their minds, naked. When they’re lost in crowds, in crowded public transportation, on roads, sitting on park benches, laughing, eating, crying, seemingly lost in the crowds milling about them, that., is when you see them naked.

Imagine you are out with friends. Maybe one of them spots someone he knows and invites her to sit with you. She looks strangely familiar but you just can’t place it. Did she go to camp with you? Maybe she is from that dance class you took in 2007? Suddenly it hits you and you realise that she is the girl from 12-B.

You find it strange to meet a girl whom you’ve already seen naked scores of time, who has no idea you’ve seen her naked scores of times. Should you excuse yourself and leave? Maybe she will recognise you and turn away? Maybe she has seen you, as well, and hates you for it? Your heart races but your curiosity gets the best of you and so you decide to stay.

She sits down and introduces herself. You repeat her name over and over in your mind to be sure that you won’t forget it. what a beautiful name for a pretty girl, you think, too nervous to say anything, you then try to think of what Madhavan or Ajeeth would say if this were a movie, but all that comes to mind is something more likely attributable to Santhanam, and so you retreat into your dabara set of degree kaapi and pretend to watch whatever is on the tele.

There have been pretty girls on the bus with whom you exchanged a smile but couldn’t get up the nerve to talk to. There was a girl who interned with you, whom you thought was cute, but the opportunity to chat her up at the vending machine never presented itself. You vow not to blow it this time.

Surprisingly she is affable (to someone who thought all girls were off-limits, to you, it’s a revelation). It is easy now, the conversation, fluent, natural, effortlessly transitioning from her thoughts on why the Chennai Metro Rail project will not get completed on time to your opinions on the flood of books written by IIM graduates.

You have only known your new friend a short time but the woozy, light headed feeling seeping over you is familiar. You are happy when you begin to think about how it surely will only be a short time before the two of you will be talking to one another on the telephone, walking down the street holding hands and going to dinner like the other normal couples.

Though this moment is perfect in every-which-way, fate works in strange ways(your brains don’t work at all, that is..), and so, when the first awkward pause in conversation arrives, you apologise and explain that you are expected to be somewhere else, and you are late and that you have to go. I loved talking with you, you say, but i have to leave now, you tell her, and with nary a second glance you turn your heels and are out the door.

Suddenly breathing heavily and sweating, you want to run back inside, take her in your arms and kiss her on the forehead. But you don’t. This has happened before. You know that eventually something will happen to ruin this. Something little and seemingly insignificant at that., something that will tear you two apart, and eat away at you. And all those pure and beautiful memories will end up being just that.

So you go home and turn on the tele and stare at the same show you were pretending to watch when she first sat down next to you. It is better this way, you decide. This is perfect, and you will have it forever. If you leave now, you can save yourself that awful feeling of repulsion that will come when you see her taking a long, slow sip of her coffee, or hear her curse at her mother(or yours). A few hours later, you wake up, shower and leave on your day. You look across the crowded bus you’re in. And she’s standing there, looking at her watch, a smile playing on her lips, her hair tied up as always. Naked. And you enjoy watching her more than ever.