I was in 9th and she in 10th .i was a geek and she a rugby player. I was fat and fair she was slim and dark...beautiful in her own mesmerising way...the clash of opposites . i never doubted the fact that we were not made for each other not because of differences but because i was a hindu and she....she was a muslim.
The first time i saw her was when i was in 7th, she had shifted to our shanty town from the doon school and i on the other side of puberty instantaneously replayed all the famous first meetings of all the famous and infamous yashraj movies.....the romeo in me had finally found a Juliet.
Being an orthodox Brahmin meant i had to learn my “slokas” well but thanks to my liberal parents, i could recite as well from Shakespeare as “the gita” . so i never had a narrow outlook.....that surely did help.
Was it love? Was it lust or anything else? I would never know or feel that way again for someone else......first love is so exciting....i longed to be near her closer to her.....after my daily prayer i would ask god for a ”chance” with her and daydreaming scenarios would play out DDLJ’s famous scene in the fields.
I got a chance finally. We were having a play “the taming of the shrew” she was to play the wife, and i in my hearts wanted to be the husband......to my chagrin i could only become the narrator but anyways it gave me time to talk with her.
It was she actually after noticing a lot of furtive stares from a very “tomato red ” me broke the ice by coming up to me(my heart was literally blasting out my chest) and saying “hello! Do you have something to eat chubbo???” ....and we talked ....she fascinated me..and i , i in my own way was a toy to her...it did not matter what i was to her a cat, a Cadbury or a condom.....her voice was music to me and i wanted to be lost in the ever sweet tones....
Time is a real pain in the a** .her boards were approaching and what irked me was she did not look at me in “that ” way.....i was just a defunct machine to the mechanic in her.....but i had to get up , i had to muster courage for telling her.....
She was going away.....hell everybody in 10th was going away ,but she was going far (like all rich Indians.....USA) i asked her out for a coffee on the farewell day...she accepted as we sat and talked...i could hear my beast roaring out loud.....and i noticed for the first time.. ”how radiant and beautifull she looked ”.....i opened my mouth and tried to pour out my heart.......but...
I could only stutter...”I... I.....Lo...” .she covered my mouth with one hand and with the other grasped my right hand....it was the first time we had touched.....the FIRST!!!!! The feeling was electrifying......i and she had merged in some alternate universe and were talking quietly to each other....that first touch that only touch conveyed a million emotions a trillion thoughts and a zillion messages.
The touch......
It told me that ,she knew ,she knew long before that i loved her....it told that she loved me too ...it told me that “we” were not meant to be....... we were matter and antimatter any union would spell doom in a orthodox country as ours....it told me that she would never regret loving me or losing me........both of them....
I tried to say something.....a thousand scenarios “run and become hippies” .....but she stopped me.....gave my hand one last squeeze....got up ,paid the bill and went away...the last time ever that i saw her........the last time i would ever see her????.....but was it worth it ??
YES!!!!! It was ...that voice was eternal....her smell was enough to last a lifetime...her eyes even longer and her touch ...ad infinitum......surely a single TOUCH is enough
