This is inspired by my new-but-it-seems-ages-old friend Niharika, whose blog fueled me to attempt something as insane as she's expert at doing.
I'll make this clear in the beginning itself: This might sound outrageously incredible to the people who already know me and outstandingly dumb to the people who don't.
Mine was the regular gulli ka school where I had studied [and topped] from UKG. I've always been the introverted kind, the shy girl who's plain not interested in making more than one friend at a time, no gossiping/giggling/sharing tiffin at lunch time, no interest in going for the movies/"playing outside" [geez, don't snare, "us zamane may aisa hota tha!"] and as must be quite obvious, no boys. Add to it, skirt that hung four inches below knees, shirt neatly tucked [or better, pulled] in, oil-smeared hair pulled back into a tight pony [yeah relief! I didn't make a "choti"!] and braces on teeth. Did you say, guys?
This dates back to July, 2002 when I was in class X. Since X was the seniormost class in our galli ka school and anyway being a Board class, we had special "privileges." No stupid assemblies [where we had to perform some circus like aerobics], no co-curricular activities and no standing in the balcony, lest the men harass the fugly little girls. And being the most intelligent kid of the school [no exaggerations], I was constantly under scrutiny. Expectations were tremendous since my immediate seniors, who were super brilliant in the school, could not do well in Boards.
So here was our little champ with her oily hair and oily face, soaked in books day after day. I did manage to score 100% attendance till class IX when I got braces. So a trip to AIIMS and thus, a leave per week became my routine.
26 July. Or almost this date.
I had taken a day off from school on the 25th for my weekly appointment with my cute-young-unmarried- all-fair-rotund bellied-burping orthodontist. As usual I was sitting immersed in a maths book when Nancy [who soon grew to be a very close friend] and Vibhuti interrupted.
"P, kal R tere baare may pooch raha tha.."
"R, kyun?"
"[smug smile on face] Hame kya pata! Miss kar raha tha shayad."
"[red oily face] Maine to kabhi usse baat bhi nahi ki!"
Disperse.
I came home amused. After all, what happened today was certainly beyond my digestive power [i know you agree, after knowing how i was!]. I had never exchanged a word or a glance with this guy who had come to my class from the other section just 4 months back. To share a little secret, I had noticed this guy in class IX when one fine day I discovered he had a 10000 watt smile [at that time, I felt his smile resembled the one a model flashed in a Cinthol saabun ad]. And strangely enough, he was cute too! Not the conventional cute. He was dark, flashed a dimple, an amazing smile and pronounced "sa" as "sha" and the vice-versa!
But the Question remained! What happened to him!I was sure, no guy can "fall" for someone like me [even if it's only puppy love at that stage of life!]. I had never got a hint from the male species throughout the 15 years of my life that I could be considered attractive/pretty/interesting.
Then what happened!
I
returned to class the next day, only with a different frame of mind. As they say,
your eyes see what your heart wants to believe. Somehow my heart wanted my eyes to see him. They were out on a prowl to detect the faintest gesture that could be deemed from him to my side.
And yes, I noticed him noticing me! Boy! Was I joyous!
** I precautioned it's all lame **
School now became something I looked forward to. Each morning was filled with excitement. I never knew, he might just talk to me that day! And each afternoon was either all the more exciting, if I could secure a few glances, or highly grub, in case he turned absent or didn't care enough for me. He used to come by a public bus, which was quite unusual for our galli ka school, so he used to mostly late.
And there my friends was the opportunity when we used to do caste a look on each other! He'd come late and by that time the class would have begun. He'd knock at the door, sport an utterly sheepish yet very pleasant smile and the teacher would [obviously!] let him in. He'd take his seat bang at the end of the class [since that remained the only unoccupied territory by the time the conquest of the Social Science teacher began] and looking at me while he made his way.
My reaction was related directly proportional to my dumbness [or confidence?!] that day. If I'd be feeling good, I'd keep my gaze stuck at him intently from the instant he stood at the door. In other cases, I'd simply look away or into the book.
Rains were now special. I don't know why but I had this sudden outburst of happiness whenever it rained.
November 2002, DiwaliAdnan Sami's first album had released. Can't say if it had to do something with the state of my mind [I had always been the one lost in her own thoughts and songs] but the songs struck some cord with me. I still hum [ahem!] these lines with utmost fondness:
Dil keh raha hai dil se, waada karo dil se...
Chahe tum jaha bhi jaana janam, meri yaad rakhna...
Anytime in December/January
No, nothing developed [did it ever have to!] 'twix us. And I had this intuition that what I always wanted to might never happen. After all, we were in a conservative school, where kids had primordial notions about "love" and friendship, where the "lovebirds" were dealt very strictly with and the sole emphasis being on studies. In all the days that passed between that date and this date, we shared a few more looks, some useless and fruitless words and a seat too!
I shouldn't miss out on this hillariously super-stupid incident!
Social Science exam answer sheets were being distributed in the class. I was comfortably seated on my one-seater chair since there was time before my roll number was to be called out. R, the Mr. Ants In Pants, was hovering around Mam only to peep into everybody's marks [now don't tell me, everyone does this!]. When my turn finally came, hr grasped the paper to relay it to me. However, I had already raeched the teacher's place by then and I almost angrily [!] snatched it from him. Poor boy! He shook his hand as if he got an electricity shock [uh, no pun intended!]!
Days flew by. The day for the farewell came. He didn't turn up.
February 22, the Informal Farewell
Getting farewell notes and signatures on uniform was a taboo in our school. So we had diaries, slam books, even pieces of paper afloat amongst our batchmates and teachers to get their "final" words for us. Here's what "an entry" in my diary read:
The person who recognises his or her weaknesses at right time is best in this world.
Duh! Nothing that day either.
July 20, 2007
It's been a long time. I've never been to my school in all these years. As heard two years back, R had gone back to his village. Last heard, he's in Delhi pursuing some Commerce course. I don't know if I wish to meet him again. I don't know how would I react if I ever meet him again. I don't know if destiny decrees our paths to ever intercross again..
