Scribbles

Love is sublime. It evaporates before you even realize you are in love. Infatuations on the other hand are long lasting. I never fell in love!

There was this time when I came very close though. She was so beautiful that she could put Aphrodite to shame. One of the reasons I fell head over heels for her was her ever changing hairstyle. The myriad of colors and curls fascinated me. Her name was- Ms. Roy, the loveliest woman I ever knew and my high school English teacher.

The first time I saw her was in the school morning assembly. She was announcing the auditions for the debate society. And that’s when I got bewitched! She wad different from others- more fashionable, younger and of course hotter! Every morning when I saw her, I felt I was going to have the best day of my life. And then on, every morning I used to gape at her during the assembly.

And then one auspicious day, our English teacher got pregnant for the fifth time. Her husband used to work at a sperm bank, but that’s another story. Anyway, we got a new substitute teacher- Ms. Roy! And I was on cloud nine. It meant 5 full hours with her every week and I can also go and see her in her office, privately. Of course, I knew I would never have the courage.

I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t speak up and confess his love, especially when I’m in love with my teacher. And so it went on. She used to come to the class and I would spend the next one hour gazing at her luscious hair- sometimes brown, sometimes black, and sometimes glowing as the moon… as a result of my dedication, I flunked the unit test. And as the merciful gods would have it, I got summons to present myself in her office.

So one fine morning I ironed my uniform, gelled my hair, wore my best deodorant and knocked at her office. Nobody answered. I pushed the door and it opened. The office was empty. I went inside with apprehension. It was a very neat office, a bit girly. There were the usual flower vases, photo frames, cushions and an ornate pen stand. On one side of the table was a half open book. Out of curiosity I took the book and opened it. It was an album.

“Vinaashkale vipareet budhdhi”- my grandpa used to tell me. I wish I understood what it meant. I opened the album and started looking at the pictures. First few pages were her childhood pictures. She was a very cute and chubby baby. Then school pictures. She was quite an athlete in school, had lost lot of weight since her kindergarten. Then, college! Pictures with friends and at parties. There was this guy in one of the pictures who seemed to be trying to get real close to my Ms. Roy. And then that fateful thing happened. I turned the page!

It was a very simple picture. She was in a swimming costume, posing after finishing a lap. I was enthralled and the adrenaline started pumping (hope I got the hormone correct). I plucked the picture out to look at it more closely.

Teenage is a very tricky time. It doesn’t give you time to decide what is right and what is dangerous. I was lost in the picture and thought of pleasuring myself. And of course, as Murphy would have it, Ms. Roy entered the office just at the very moment I was in heaven.

Yeah, she was disgusted! She didn’t know what to say and neither did I. So I left her room and ran to the restroom to take care of my unfinished business. That was the last I saw of Ms. Roy. No wait... I saw her one more time and that’s when the story actually ends.

The next day I thought of going to her and apologizing. I gathered up the courage and went. Once again I didn’t knock, just pushed. And she was sitting inside. Not on the chair though. But on the lap of a guy, the guy from her album. I was aghast! I turned back and ran off, not knowing or caring where was I going. She had broken my heart and from then on she was dead to me. That’s how long my love for her lasted!

Of course that didn’t stop me from visiting the restroom regularly. I had forgotten to return the picture ;-)

 

From my first glimpses of Palak, I understood that beauty didn’t exist without strangeness. She collected Barbie dolls, made sculptures with mashed potatoes, constantly read books about Bin Laden and was a big fan of Coffee with Karan. The first time I spoke to her was outside my school men’s room. A couple of minutes later, we were friends.

Palak was great. She was smart, was top of every subject that she took. She was funny and to top all that she was the most beautiful girl in the whole of Boring Road. She was much more adventurous that your humble friend here. She always kept me on the edge. We did trekking and camping together. She taught me boxing and who won most of the times is anyone’s guess. My life suddenly wasn’t the boring life of a school going teenager anymore.

We hardly spoke on the phone. It was usually a text SMS- ‘Come down, waiting” and I would go down to find her waiting in my garden and then we would go on one of our exciting adventures. People used to reckon us as a gang. Time flew by. One fine day I woke up with wet undies and I realized- I was in love.

So I worked out an elaborate plan on how to tell that to her. I wondered what would be the reaction on her face when she heard me saying the three lovely words. These revelations have to be personal, my friends told me. So, I sent her a voice SMS.

Her reply came in twenty seconds. “Don’t be a SISSY, come for boxing” I was devastated.

I decided to confront her. So next day at school, I went straight up to her and asked- “Why can’t you love me? I let you win every boxing match!”

She looked deep into my eyes and said- “Don’t you understand, Aditya?”

And I understood… I remembered the first place I met her… I remembered that she collected Barbie dolls… and that’s when it dawned on me. Life is a bitch!

“You sound like a man who has given up. C’mon, you’re a player!” Niraj tried to inveigle me. His voice sounded like a tea kettle- high, shrill, and annoying.

“Losing something is hard. Choosing to lose something is harder. There is a very thin line between the two. Once, you cross that line you realize there never was a line. The bottom-line is… I lost!” I really had given up. But Niraj won’t…

“C’mon man, there is plenty of fish out there. Reload your hook and throw it out there.” Why doesn’t he understand- it was no more about fishing! I had just lost it!

“Look… she is the love of my life. And I’ve lost her. That’s it! Nothing else matters.” Nothing else mattered.

I was with Anousha for three weeks- the three best weeks of my life. And then suddenly, it was all gone. Apparently three weeks was too "less" to commit. She broke up with me. It was the end of everything. It was the end of me. And then Niraj said something…

“Do you remember Palak? Do you remember how much you loved her? And do you remember you fucking got over her!”

Yes, I remembered Palak! And I remembered others too... the women in my life.

Once upon a time, there was a place called Far-Far away. And there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was twenty and the girl a few months younger. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they had fantastic dreams about fairies and princes, like all the others. They believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. And that one fine morning they will meet. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened!

One fine morning the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.

"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."

"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."

They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour.

They were not lonely anymore. They talked about a lot of things. The boy told the girl about a lot of things he didn’t even know that he knew. He told her about how the shining sun rose majestically from between the hills and on his house on the hill-top. And she told him about how the waves from the ocean splashed musically on the wall beneath her window. He told her about the times of glory he had had and of the moments which lay in the labyrinth of his mind, not to be spoken about to any mortal again. He told her about the times he had cried and about the times he was happy without a reason. He told her about his idiosyncrasies and his vanities. He told her that he was like this narcissist wonder boy who never liked acknowledging his flaws. She told him about her childhood whims and fancies. And he listened to how she had to give up her dreams. And she told him how she dreamt again.

They kept talking as only two people in love can. They kept talking till it became dark and the sun slowly crept down into the ocean. They kept talking till the nightingale began to sing. They kept talking and the swallows migrating to the south saw them and smiled. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. It was a miracle, a cosmic miracle.

As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily? Is it really what they believed what it was?

And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"

"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do. And even if we don’t meet again, all I will have is the fond memory of this beautiful evening."

And so they parted. She to the east, and he to the west!

The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. It was like the whole universe playing a small part in bringing together the destinies of two strangers. It was an omen. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

Though they went their separate paths, they kept thinking about each other. They spent their mornings sleeping on the bed and reminiscing about the loveliest rendezvous of their lives. And in the evenings they fantasized about the future. They used to think what they would say to each other when they met again. Just a civil handshake! Or an awkward hug! Where will he take her for coffee? How she will take him to the beach and then tell him how she spent all these years thinking about him. And then he will show her all the letters that he had written her but couldn’t post. Life for them had become a dream. Until one day the dream was shattered.

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A year later, both the boy and the girl met with accidents, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were empty. They didn’t remember anything about how they had spent the twenty-one years existing, let alone the dreams they had had.

They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to find a place in the fast paced routine we call life. They came to remember who they were and what they did. They became friends again with their old friends with whom they spent their days and nights. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 70% or even 80% love. But they never got the feeling- ‘this is it’!

Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon they were thirty.

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to buy some chocolate truffle, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street. They passed each other in the very center of the street.

The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest.  And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of ten years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other like two strangers would, disappearing into the crowd. Forever!