The first conversation with my first crush

The first time my body realized

That it could feel things beyond

Pain, fear, happiness,

Oh dear!

I constantly made a fool of myself.

 

The first time I reacted to the

Long island iced tea (of hormones) that

Coursed my arteries was when I was in 6th grade.

I was in LOVE.

I don’t remember the how and the why and the when of it but

Boy! The guy made my cells tingle.

 

And hence began the one sided saga

Of love and other things of a

Uniform clad – twelve year old- rabbit teethed girl.

 

All my free time was taken over

By his thoughts. Well,

That’s what they did in the movies!

Songs that had his name were

Searched, saved and played in a loop;

Smiling at the mention of the name.

Just like those long lost lovers living

In the two corners of the world would do.

 

My lunch in school comprised of three things –

Cream biscuits, fryms / Kurkure and peeking.

Not the peeking-tom kind, but more like

The devotees outside Indian temples,

Standing for 3-4-5 hours

To catch a glimpse.

Just one tiny glimpse

For just one second,

A glimpse of my super – HOT – hero!

 

Now, let’s talk about the ‘HOT’ factor,

Shall we?

I have this tendency to

Fall for people who the crowd

Doesn’t find to be good enough.

 

HAHA yayy! My inner goddess always does her

Ritualistic topsy-turvy step when I say this.

“No competition there woman!’

 

So while my friends saw

His oiled hair;

All I saw was how beautifully they shone.

While they thought he

Was an average looking nobody,

He was my Zac Efron and my Brad Pitt!

While they laughed at

His middle partition which

Ran right from the forehead to beyond,

I…

Well, sometimes even I laughed with them.

 

Just like that, my Mirror

Who otherwise was a good friend,

A friend who was usually supportive,

A friend who looked exactly like me,

Only sometimes a tad but thin and a tad bit not-so-thin

With the change in the weather

Had become my nemesis.

 

Chiding me for the bushy eyebrows I was born with,

Showing me a ZIT!

A freaking real ugly not-disappearing-for-fifteen-days zit!

She had the audacity to point out

At the tufts of hair that grew

Right above my lips. Yes.

I had a moustache!

Also, my dear mother made me

Live with that till I was sixteen.

 

At this point, I would take a moment to bow down

To all those boys who fell for me,

At a time when even I wouldn’t have.

Thank you, for feeding me with false pride

That made me smile at days

I otherwise would have spent

With zero self-esteem.

 

A couple of changes

Discreetly crept into my routine.

Instead of ten, twenty minutes were spent

To look presentable in school.

There was the hair that had to be done meticulously.

Nails kept, kohl applied and

Lip gloss smeared on a pair of lips

That had never seen anything beyond ghee and petroleum jelly.

 

But let me make something clear

Right now.

I never really wanted him

To love me back.

The thought never even crossed my mind.

This pea-brain was happy running around,

Worshipping him!

But all she ever craved for was

One conversation.

 

I remember this one time

When our eyes met.

I have never wanted to be more

Invisible than that day!

I kept staring

With an inane pair of huge, wide, unblinking eyes

Glued to the spot.

Brain dead.

A heart galloping faster than Arion!

He looked away; I ran

To take cover under my self-loathe.

Well, basically I went back to attend my social studied class.

 

And thus went on the days;

He – nonchalantly handsome

Me- Well do I need to say anymore?

Until that day.

 

That day when Him and I were

In the same room,

In the same space,

On the same table

With twenty something people.

 

Oh look!

He is sitting there.

Two chairs to his right, empty.

Let me just run and

Take the one beside him.

 

No wait! No no no no no.

I’ll make a fool of myself.

What if he sees the tiny zit on my left cheek?

What if he finds me ridiculous?

What if he finds me stupid?

What if he finds me absurd?

Wait, don’t they all mean the same?

I’ll just sit on the other chair.

 

But wait!

Who will sit in between?

What if it’s the pretty senior?

What if it’s the guy who smells of fish?

What if nobody sits and he ends up

Terming me an imbecile.

What’s with the synonym woman!

 

Thus began the never ending clamor

Between my inner goddess and me,

Till only the chair beside him was empty.

 

My Inner Goddess did

Five flips and a split.

She was on fire!

 

I went and sat awkwardly

Beside him, aware!

Aware of every word that

Left his mouth.

Aware of his every breath.

He breathed and I

Consciously tried to breathe in a rhythm

Trying to match it to perfection.

 

Twenty five times, he clenched his palm,

Six times he shuffled his feet.

 

Concentrate Amrutha, concentrate.

There are others, look. Look at them. 

Oh seven shuffles

Look the fan! It is swirling.

A spider web! But his voice.

Can I talk to him? No!

The spider.

Yes! The spider isn’t in the web.

Where is it?

Our legs are two inches apart.

Chocolate! Yes. I have to learn to make them.

I have to ask Neeta Aunty to help me with..

 

His palm accidentally brushed my fingers.

Oh lord the butterflies!

Butterflies from all over the planet

Seemed to have disapperated right

Into my stomach and

The part if my skin

That layered my finger,

Which he accidentally touched became

The most prices possession of my body!

 

“Hey! What do you think?”

“Huh?” I looked up.

 

He is asking me!

ME. Oh my god!

ME and NOT the twenty something faces

That all seem to stare at me.

They seem to see right through me.

They know everything I was thinking.

 

Then,

I looked at him.

And at that moment it was just him, I see.

Just him, I feel.

I grinned sheepishly and in a voice replied,

“I think it is perfect.”

(I don’t know what I was calling perfect. It was mostly, him.)

 

“You think so?” he asked with

Eyes, wide and curious.

Eyes, black and questioning.

Eyes, beautiful and smiling.

Eyes that want a YES.

And that is what I gave him.

“YES, I think so.”

 

And hence on the

Nineteenth day of the ninth month in the year 2007,

I had the first conversation with my first crush.

The Vanishing Whisper

To all those stories that didn’t happen when they should have
To all those stories that have unfinished business
To all those stories that would never be written
To all those stories that would never see an end.

He loved her.
She didn’t.

He saw the sun
And the stars
In her eyes.
She didn’t care
To look him
In the eye.

He waited till
The vines of
Solitude
Strangled him.

Unbound.
He left.

The tree
Was bare
And the sky
Was bereft.

She remembered.
The glimmer
Of hope
In those eyes.
Those eyes
That she didn’t
Care
To look into.

She begged
And vowed
And cried
To no avail.

She wanted more
He didn’t.