I could see her coming, her walk characterized by the smooth and careful strides of the tiger. Dressed as usual in black wide bottomed pants and figure hugging top with a chocolate brown coat flung over her angular shoulders, she made heads turn.

As usual, her arresting sight made me leave my chair to gaze out of the window. Hoping she would notice me, I pushed the curtains wider still. Thank God there were no visitors at the moment. The world right now seemed made up of only my small office, the wide window framing her statuesque sight and my own longing to get her attention.

The first time I had noticed her was two weeks ago. The tall, slim and beautiful girl with the long tresses blowing in the wind had passed my window just as I had started to look out at the not so busy street in a moment of contemplation. She would have looked fascinating anyway she dressed, she was blessed with such a magnificent figure and with such fascinating looks, her face framed by a gorgeous mane. Her all black outfit made her all the more attractive.

Since then I had seen her everyday except Saturdays when the office was closed. Never had I seen her in anything but black and never had I seen her look at me once. One time before I had seen her coming from afar and in a moment of courage, had gone out to the front gate hoping for the slightest of attention from her. I was pretty confident of my good looks and was sure girls, pretty or otherwise, would not ignore me.

But with the smooth strides of the tiger she had just glided by, looking straight ahead without the slightest of glance at me. Since then I have made it a personal challenge to be at least worthy of a glance from those large and limpid jet black eyes. I have taken utmost care in my grooming and have spent a considerable part of my salary on clothes in this endeavor. Until now it has been to no avail.

But today I have a feeling that I will at last be rewarded for my efforts. I have a very strong intuition that she will look at me. Surely it is not possible that she is unaware of my presence. How can it be? The emotions I feel on seeing her are so strong that the air must be full of its currents. Surely she must be touched by them.

As she comes closer I have some nagging doubts, is she just playing a game? Is she a sadist out to torture me? My eyes are fixed on her face with such intensity that I fear she will be hurt by the sheer force of it. Her eyes continue to stare ahead. The wind blows her magnificent cascade of silky black hair, and she keeps on moving with the strides of the tiger.

As she always does, she walks on the far-left footpath, almost touching the iron railings lining the street. As always she carries the large black bag hung on her shoulders. As always people turn to look at her. It is somewhat consoling that none receive her attention. So I am not the only one, that’s what I think!

Hey, wait a moment, she has faltered in her stride. She seems to be hesitating, wondering whether to go straight or to turn right. Suddenly she is looking very vulnerable standing there with people passing by. No one stops to ask her what the matter is. Why should they when everything looks normal to everybody but myself. To others she is just a young and pretty girl standing on the footpath deciding where to go next.

But to one who has had all his attention centered on her for the last five minutes, and to one whose energy has been focussing on her for the last two weeks, she seems to be in a lot of trouble. To me she looks to have lost all confidence, she seems to be a child on the verge of tears. I cannot hold myself back. I rush out without thinking and dash to her side. My heavy breathing causes her to look at me with those large and limpid eyes. I blurt out, ’ Can I help you, you seem to have lost something.’

Her body relaxes with a visible loosening of muscles. At least visible to me. In a small anxious voice, melodious and charming to my ears, she says softly, ’ My pathfinder has fallen down somewhere. It was in the bag, it is not there anymore. It’s a small black box with red dials.’

I am curious. I have never heard of a pathfinder, but I look around. I trace her steps back towards the direction she had been coming from and about three yards away I spot it. I bend down and pick it up, curious to see what it is. I peer at the dials and the small light flashing red. As I hold it I hear a ping-ping-ping sound, clearly audible, emanating from the black box.

I turn the box and strain my eyes to read the lettering in white. Then everything dawns on me. The flash of realization hits me like a bolt of lighting. All the mystery and the suspense and the expectations of the past two weeks is swept away in the new dawn.

I read it again, ’ Audio reflect Pathfinder for the Blind.’ And below it as instructions, ’ To be held close to body, light facing forward in the direction of travel. Ping-ping-ping sounds will be heard if obstacles come within three yards. User advised to practice use in less crowded streets for at least two weeks before venturing elsewhere. Further advised to practice individually to build confidence in its use.’

The last line read, ‘It’s a Sony.’