Amidst The Madding Crowd

The music is loud and groovy, the people, all dressed to kill (at least in their own supremely important views), and a general wave of madness seems to have swept over the crowd, as they dance - slow, break, ball, belly - whatever. The DJ keeps uttering unfathomable things, and everyone seems to understand. The girls, despite the excruciating pain from their heels, are having a good time. The guys are enjoying themselves too.

But, the 'general wave of madness' excludes just this one girl. Tucked away in a corner, she sits with her legs crossed, fingers fidgeting with each other, eyes, mostly admiring the floor, sometimes scanning the crowd. She's nearly frowning. 

It doesn't suit her a bit. What suits her is her halter neck top, her short denim skirt, and her boots. The fringes look good too. She's full of life otherwise, but big crowds and loud parties do this to her. The generally slightly mad girl chooses these exact occasions for her spells of sanity.

Every now and then, someone comes to her, asks her to join in. She resists, but if they insist, she goes, and pretends to be enjoying herself. When she feels no one will notice, she slips away to her corner again. Sometimes, she takes a drink, and sips on it for as long as she can, as an excuse to not dance. She, by the way, loves to dance, and dances well enough to put most others to shame.

She doesn't know why this happens to her. She always assumes that she will enjoy herself, and is always disappointed with herself, for not being herself. She sees the couples, dancing close, and smiles. Sometimes she frowns at that. Nearly cries. They aren't feeling lost, are they? Maybe they are. A good kind of lost.

As she steps out, her ears still getting accustomed to the relative silence, she puts on her overcoat, to protect herself from the cold, and roving eyes. Back home, she removes her make up, splashes water on her face, changes into her night clothes, brushes her hair, and sky-gazes. The lights are turned off, she lies on her bed, cuddled up in a blanket, her eyes open, with a meditative calm in them.

Perhaps, she too will enjoy it all sometime. She smiles. Perhaps, she will know what it feels like - the 'good kind of lost'. Her eyes blink softly, and in moments, she is asleep.