You have an intense crush on this girl in your college and there are thousands of people who have equal probabilities of being the person sitting next to you in an exam hall. And then happens the unbelievable!
You hear it in stories, or from your friend’s friends, but you never experience such a blissful moment. Guess what! Now you’ll hear it from me.
I’m not sure if you remember the Desi Chinese girl I wrote about a few weeks ago. If you haven’t, roll back and read that (publicity). As I’ve already mentioned her attributes – the gorgeous, glittering streaks of hair, the huge pinkish glasses, and waxed porcelain legs – I guess you’ll be able to understand why she is so irresistible.
So, early morning, haggard and hungry, I wake up after snoozing my alarm one million times. My head is throbbing from the unending assaults of the alarm clock. I’m frazzled and I’ve never so earnestly desired to be dead before. But it’s exam and so I can’t be dead because my mother would then bring me back and scold me big for being dead while I had to take the exam.
“You could have died after the exam! Exam is so important! “She’d argue and I’d have no solid point in my defence.
So I woke up. I pried open my eyes and peeled myself from the bed. I played some ancient romantic numbers in my phone and then went on with the daily routine.
While applying soap all over my body, I wondered about the economy of Satvahana dynasty, and if they minted more gold coins than Kushanas, and if they allowed prostitution, like Mauryas, and if they didn’t what did they do with all the gold. Interestingly, I had forgotten everything I’d read in the last two days. All my memories were wiped out and the fragments that remained weren’t ductile enough to be stretched upto more than 6 pages. I was so doomed.
All my friends had studied well. Rohit was bubbling with confidence. Anant was cool as ever. And Mr. Kalakaar already knows everything that has happened on earth since the dawn of humanity. I pretended to be an intelligent fellow and kept a straight face. Of course I wasn’t going to become a university topper this semester.
We reached the college, found our seats from the charts stuck on the notice board and ambled towards the rows of rooms.
The first thing I noticed as I crossed the threshold was she. There she was, small almond eyes behind giant half-rimmed round glasses, her short sleek hair flopped to a side. The seat next to her was vacant but I was quite content with sharing the same room with her. I mean when life gives you lemonade, you shouldn’t go asking for Haywards 5000, because then life takes the lemonade back and gives you draught and dehydration. I started searching for my seat and all my theories collapsed in that moment of unmatched awe, the unparalleled surprise marked by a sudden loss of voice, reasoning and conscience. I felt like clearing up the aisles and doing a victory lap for a few hours. I get to sit with the girl of my dreams. What is the probability, people?
I won’t say I was sweating, because that is a feature of early teenage romance. I was excited, I was happy and I was going to make quite a donation to my city temple.
She moved out to let me pass. Clad in shorts, she was making me nuts already. Her skin sparkled with radiance, her legs glowed like enlightenment. I was straining my eyes to steal furtive glance and yet notice every bit of her ethereal charm, like I was Sherlock Homes. I sat and did what any guy would do.
There she is, so beautiful, so full of life, so intelligent…If I were prince Joffrey, I’d have killed people for her. The bell went on, and the misfortune happened. I suddenly knew the answers to all the questions. This was a first timer – I never know all the answers from a particular question paper, I know around 70% and make up the rest 30%. But this time, I knew everything. That meant I wouldn’t have enough time to look at her, given how I was going to be drowned in the abysmal history of stupid dead kings.
I wrote, even took extra sheets after about 8 years, and went on writing till the end. At times, the Romeo inside me would ask me to stop, and just take one look at her, but then the V.Gordon Childe inside me would convince me that history is a beautiful thing. At times, her question paper would fly in the breeze and land near my steps. While she tried to pick that up, her admit card would rise up and float in the air. It seemed like the good God sat up with a Khaitan fan in the clouds, having some fun with innocent human beings. The flying papers would sing to me about her, asking me to lift them up, hand them over to her, and ask her out. But as asking out only leads to tragedies, I merely watched.
And so I wrote and glanced and wrote and glanced and when it was all over, I stood up, walked away and turned to her for one last time, so that I could store her in my memory in a series of beautiful fading photographs.