The other day, I saw a girl picking her nose, which, when you think about it, is not a big deal. I mean, as humans we are entitled to indulge ourselves in a few guilty pleasures, including the occasional public nasal-tunnel cleaning exercise. Nevertheless, she was a girl, and that is something which is at odds to the image we have of them. Like a female friend once said, girls do not laugh, they smile. They don’t sweat, they perspire.
Anyway, she is not the weird woman I’m writing about. It’s the girl she reminded me of, who did the exact same thing all those years ago at Panbazar. Back then, I was a college student, and was travelling in a city bus, when I spotted a very beautiful girl standing at the Panbazar bus stop. She seemed preoccupied because she didn’t spot me or the whole row of passengers in front of me who were gawking at her. The source of her preoccupation became clear soon as she lifted her beautiful little fingers to pick her beautiful little nose. She was so engrossed in the activity that even the raucous laughter of a couple of boys in front of me didn’t produce a response from her. Her reverie was broken only when they started catcalling. At first, she seemed taken aback. However, the way she recovered is what made her memorable in my eyes. Throwing back her mane of silky hair she made a show of checking her purse. Clearly, not satisfied, she shook her head from side to side like a cow shaking off flies, so as to catch the wind in her flowing tresses. Then with a self satisfied look, she pranced off like a model on a ramp. I could only sigh, and think, you disgusting beauty!