Each time I catch a glimpse of her in church, my mind
screams 'unreserved beauty'. Even though it's a thousand and one times my eyes
turn to her direction in a minute, it's that same number of times my mind
screams it. And funny enough, my eyes turn there every now and then. Now
imagine the number of times my mind screams that in church.
She has a special seat she occupies whenever she comes to
church, and since she always arrives early, she always keeps that space. The seat
is three pews away from the altar. And I being a perpetual late comer always sit
several seats behind her. So for this reason, she’s always within my view.
It's because of her that I've come to the conclusion that
God could actually be partial if he chooses to be. I didn't say nature. God.
I'm not one particularly conscious about beauty, or other
people's appearance. But the very first time I saw this woman, my mind went
wild with awe. The feeling was indeed scintillating (couldn't find a better
word).
How could only one woman have ALL the attributes required to
term one beautiful; bewitching eyeballs, clear complexion, small slightly
upwardly curved nose, pliable lips, deep set dimples, set of white large teeth
with gap, rounded breasts and the most captivating of them all, well carved rotund
killing buttocks.
I'm sorry if you feel somewhat embarrassed knowing I'm also
a woman. But sincerely, there are some wonders too glaring for you to pretend
not to notice them. Hers with regards to me has got nothing to do with lesbian
issues (no pun intended). I'm only expressing my candid observations. A
thrilling one. One strong enough to keep my muse reeling with thoughts unending
(I've refused to write one naughty story of her my muse has been urging me to
do).
This woman I'm talking about isn't some little freshly ripe
girl. I'm talking about a woman with a retinue of children which I'm sure is an
attempt by her husband to tarnish her beauty because I don't know the Yorubas to
give birth like that. But the several births seem to have even been the cause
of her glow. Oh, yes, she's yoruba. Which other group of people would have rotund
killing buttocks?
The first thing you'll notice on her face when you get a
look at it is her eyes; large, bright, slanted. I'm not one crazy about eyes.
But when you see this woman’s, you’ll lose consciousness for at least a moment.
Then when she gets up to go to the altar, you’ll suffer a nervous break-down.
Till she goes back to her seat, it's only her I notice moving around the
church. At times at this moment I try to find out the men’s reaction as regards
to her. But as we all know them and their cunning ways, you’ll never notice
they’re ‘scoping’, most especially when they have that their ‘fake’ reading
glasses on their noses. I’m sure most of the time, even before I know it, they’ve
already taken in her entire view and turned elsewhere to ‘ruminate’ the thought.
I’m sure of that because if her looks spellbinds me her fellow woman, then it
turns the men to mere stuffs. This time I’m not leaving out the priests. I even
try not to imagine how worse it is for them since they don't have wives to pour
their frustrations on when they can't bear it any longer. How about when she
bares her teeth at some of her friends? Oh!!!
I so wish to see the man that won the heart of this damsel.
In fact, it was due to this that I've postponing writing this. But my efforts
are yet to yield a positive outcome. It's either I leave the church premises
too early, or she does. One day I had to stand and watch her as she left the
church building, so that I could trace her to her car, and probably that man.
But it seemed she would never end her greetings with fellow parishioners, and so
I had to leave when I began to feel as if some people were watching me. I wouldn’t
have been shocked if I’d found out that I wasn’t the only one watching her. Anyway,
I haven't give up on looking for that ‘prince charming’ because I'm sure he can
never be far away. I'm very sure he won't try it, because even with her
football team of children, he would seize to own her the moment he leaves her
side. Funny enough, till this moment, I don’t even know her name.
This is not an attempt at arousing jealousy in people, or
terming anyone ugly, that’s if you believe you are, because I know that I beat
her hands down. Oh yes! (smiles). In fact, I’m sure my interest in her grew this
wild because she was the exact image of a fictional character that I created in
one of my works. Probably my mind is still too awed to believe it’s seeing that
created form in reality. I’m only trying to point at something. That some
people were indeed created with washed hands. Male or female, some people are
indeed beauuutiful!
