……have been listening to love songs. The music triggering my senses. In such a state, can’t stay idle anymore, just staring at the ceiling, so I have made up my mind. I will now spin yarns and say that these are what really happened and someday, sometime, who knows….? I might be reeling these anecdotes of a high school crush, and my readers will be picturing it as an amusing, romantic story that they can somehow associate themselves with….
She walks down the corridor, takes a sharp turn at the corner, holding a few neatly covered books in her beautifully manicured hands, a pink shawl over her buxom breasts and curvy back…. She suddenly halts her pace, stares with her dark eyelashes right through my eyes in a smiling gape. I too share the glance for a few seconds collecting my memories of where I had seen her before. It strikes my cranial nerves...oh yea….
She is the runner up in some pageant hunt. May be she gaped at my unkempt, shaggy, curly, rumpled, celestial hair [exaggerating] and wondered, “what the heaven is right with this world!”
That was all about how she (miss runner up) and I got to see each other for the first time (and the last time). And then we walked our own way.
There was this girl, Sarah, in my class. She has a sleeky silky light brown hair, her eyes…. Could never see them through the powered specs, her dresses- shirt and pant, sometimes t-shirt and pant. Her complexion – white, bright glowing white as if sun was burrowing her light, and her calcium white teeth- always hidden by her soft smile.
I was like any other guy, I mean like any other C-grade guys who would have never had their practicals signed on the required date and got red markings for missing almost 60 % of the classes. Sarah, straight A. you gotta see her penmanship; you will stop writing and start typing instead.
She walks into the class room, in a sinuous grace of a cat [exaggerating again]. ineffable feelings of attraction surging up through my spine. But I had to subdue and disguise my emotions, act stoic while brooding about her all day. Oh…, how I wished to talk to her, be close to her and see her from a nearer distance. We were already in IInd year and yet still, I was oblivious to her in a class of 54 students. Why wouldn’t god make my bench closer to hers in defiance to the teacher who had put us in the opposite corners of the room, where she couldn’t even hear my snoring in the class…!
Busted!!! I got caught for bunking the class while hiding in the library in order to copy the practical assignments. Straight to the Reverend Antony (principal of our college) for the third time already. I had to do something now because the practical file of my friend who had lent that to me was confiscated. And still I had botany and physics practicals remaining to be copied (from somebody who already got them signed and up to date).
There, an A student Sarah had all her practicals up to date and approved. Besides, now none of my friends would loan me their practical. I mustered up all my courage, took a deep breath and headed toward her, asked her straight,” Sarah, could you lend me your practicals?” to my astonishment, she nodded “yes”. I bet her ear drums could get the accelerated beat of my heart, and since I have this sanguine complexion, I couldn’t stop myself going all red, right up to my ears.
That’s how we started to talk to each other, though it was always my initiating; and the topic, of course, was about me burrowing her practicals and other assignments. But there was no other form of discourses whatsoever and the happening conversations only had my asking to her and Sarah lending her files to me. How I wished so hard that we could have some quality time together…
I never got more of her luring timbre after the final board exam. Only when I dreamt, I got to see her.
“Her angelic face gilded in the morning dew
She endowed with 32 virtues that the heavens brew
But only in my dream was it true
And the only dream I always wanted to pass through”
How I hoped that the dream would morph into reality. My pathos, poignant melancholy,… my pathetic condition.
While chatting, I met one of my college buddy. I got Sarah’s email address from him. I added her. She accepted. And then it started.
I am a boy, a boy who barely speaks to any girls. She was the only girl I had accosted to. Wait...! I also had nice terms with another girl, Saloni who was Sarah’s friend and girl friend of my very good pal Lucky. Though shy in person, I am very good at chatting. I am like master of words when it comes to virtual society (cyber world) [still exaggerating].
Sarah and I chatted a few minutes about our academic future plans. I asked her mobile number. We shared out numbers. And that’s how I got the phone number of a girl for the first time in my 18 year old life.
It was the arrival of the New Year, the bell gonged 12. I was sleeping like a polar bear, until this freaking scream of a guy ranting ‘Incoming’ which would go ultrasonic as the pitch sharpened along the ranting (which is my ring tone by the way) broke my slumber. As I pressed the ‘miss call list’ button and looked at who dared to wake me up, my eyes widened and pupils dilated. It was Sarah herself who miss-called me. My heart was pounding harder and harder trying to blast my diaphragm, and my mind was unable to think of anything productive.
I just rolled my eye-balls to the back of my head and tried to sleep. It was hard to believe that what just happened wasn’t a part of my dream.
I woke up at 4am and send her an SMS saying “may your abode be bright and radiating even in the nights of load shedding, Happy New Year”. (I had sent the same message to all my friends whose numbers were saved in my mobile. But she was the only girl in there).
Morning 7am, I got a message. It was her again, replying
“gudmornin n happy new yr!! was gr8 2 receive ur msg, stil remember d coll days n ur swt smile. Keep smiling”.
I paused for a while. Couldn’t believe my eyes. I was a free spirit flying higher and higher. I smiled the whole morning. My day was done. For the first time, reality seemed to be more beautiful that the dream.
I got her miss call again after a few days at the midnight. It had scared me, so I sent her this:
“hey! U cald me?
Mis u havin around, but u scard me now. Hope u r fine, I’m worried abt u. was it u who cald me or did sb else usd yo cel?
Nyway, hav fun!
Plz let me kno If u cald me, gud nite!”
I felt so stupid jackass after I re-read what I had just sent. But I was really scared coz I was not used to any calls at the midnight, usually at the time when I would be having a nightmare. And the ring tone itself was scarier.
Do you wanna know what she sent me back?
“it’s me yar. Y u scard? It’s ur fren Sarah n m doin prty gud.
It was a miscal 2 remind u of me.
Mis u 2 n ur cute smile. Wonder when I’l get 2 c it again! Wel take care. :)”.
Then I changed my ring tone and put a special love song ‘I believe’ from Korean romantic film ‘My Sassy Girl’ ascribed to her number. So whenever I had ‘I believe’ playing in my mobile, I would know it was her.
While I was still waiting for the results of back-paper of the subjects I had flunked in, she had already been admitted to the best engineering college of Nepal. I congratulated her for getting into the coveted college, and asked how her days were. Do you know what she sent me back?
“me doin fine. Wel, col is ok bt mis Xaviers. Mis u guys a lot. Keep in touch n tc.
N keep smiling n keep rockin”
It was Jan28. I stopped sending her messages or miss-calls because I was hurt a bit by the ‘guys’ part. I felt as if I was just one of the many guys in the crowd, and I felt that I meant nothing special to her. But she sent me miss-calls on Feb5 and finally, on the night of Feb14, V-day, at the midnight again.
This was flattering to me than ever. I just got a miss-call, that on the V-day, from the least expected person. I couldn’t stop grinning and flashing out my rabbit white teeth. Butterfly fluttering around me, jingle bells on my ears…. I was absolutely mesmerized, just by her miss-call, probably because that was from somebody I wanted to be with, most probably because that was my first time getting some attention on a Valentine’s Day.
I sent her an SMS saying “happy V-nite. Have a swt dream n take care”. And within a few minutes, incoming along with piano of ‘I believe’,
“Same 2 u n thank u.
U too have a sound slp n the swtst dream (jus like u)!”
Her perfectly sweet SMS bowled me duck. But again I argued to myself that it was just my fancy. Why would she have a crush on me anyway? it was hard to fathom what she meant to imply. I desperately needed to extricate myself from this unwarranted crush.
Every time she gave me a miss-call, it induced all the emotions that lied inert before. I used to moon over and over again, on the messages she sent.
How I wanted to message her-
“My embrace will keep you warm
In the glacial cold
My breath will fan you a zephyr
In the scalding hot”
But I didn’t.
The fear of getting rejected hovered over the tangled nerve circuit of my practically empty skull.
How I wished to write-
“I am zapped by the pangs of doting beauty
And that beauty is you…….”
But instead I resorted to “I admire you”
She replied me back “I admire you too...”
That’s all that happened till now.
I guess something is better to be implied, than to be spoken out. I could do a PhD in that one line message I just got.
She walks down the corridor, takes a sharp turn at the corner, holding a few neatly covered books in her beautifully manicured hands, a pink shawl over her buxom breasts and curvy back…. She suddenly halts her pace, stares with her dark eyelashes right through my eyes in a smiling gape. I too share the glance for a few seconds collecting my memories of where I had seen her before. It strikes my cranial nerves...oh yea….
She is the runner up in some pageant hunt. May be she gaped at my unkempt, shaggy, curly, rumpled, celestial hair [exaggerating] and wondered, “what the heaven is right with this world!”
That was all about how she (miss runner up) and I got to see each other for the first time (and the last time). And then we walked our own way.
There was this girl, Sarah, in my class. She has a sleeky silky light brown hair, her eyes…. Could never see them through the powered specs, her dresses- shirt and pant, sometimes t-shirt and pant. Her complexion – white, bright glowing white as if sun was burrowing her light, and her calcium white teeth- always hidden by her soft smile.
I was like any other guy, I mean like any other C-grade guys who would have never had their practicals signed on the required date and got red markings for missing almost 60 % of the classes. Sarah, straight A. you gotta see her penmanship; you will stop writing and start typing instead.
She walks into the class room, in a sinuous grace of a cat [exaggerating again]. ineffable feelings of attraction surging up through my spine. But I had to subdue and disguise my emotions, act stoic while brooding about her all day. Oh…, how I wished to talk to her, be close to her and see her from a nearer distance. We were already in IInd year and yet still, I was oblivious to her in a class of 54 students. Why wouldn’t god make my bench closer to hers in defiance to the teacher who had put us in the opposite corners of the room, where she couldn’t even hear my snoring in the class…!
Busted!!! I got caught for bunking the class while hiding in the library in order to copy the practical assignments. Straight to the Reverend Antony (principal of our college) for the third time already. I had to do something now because the practical file of my friend who had lent that to me was confiscated. And still I had botany and physics practicals remaining to be copied (from somebody who already got them signed and up to date).
There, an A student Sarah had all her practicals up to date and approved. Besides, now none of my friends would loan me their practical. I mustered up all my courage, took a deep breath and headed toward her, asked her straight,” Sarah, could you lend me your practicals?” to my astonishment, she nodded “yes”. I bet her ear drums could get the accelerated beat of my heart, and since I have this sanguine complexion, I couldn’t stop myself going all red, right up to my ears.
That’s how we started to talk to each other, though it was always my initiating; and the topic, of course, was about me burrowing her practicals and other assignments. But there was no other form of discourses whatsoever and the happening conversations only had my asking to her and Sarah lending her files to me. How I wished so hard that we could have some quality time together…
I never got more of her luring timbre after the final board exam. Only when I dreamt, I got to see her.
“Her angelic face gilded in the morning dew
She endowed with 32 virtues that the heavens brew
But only in my dream was it true
And the only dream I always wanted to pass through”
How I hoped that the dream would morph into reality. My pathos, poignant melancholy,… my pathetic condition.
While chatting, I met one of my college buddy. I got Sarah’s email address from him. I added her. She accepted. And then it started.
I am a boy, a boy who barely speaks to any girls. She was the only girl I had accosted to. Wait...! I also had nice terms with another girl, Saloni who was Sarah’s friend and girl friend of my very good pal Lucky. Though shy in person, I am very good at chatting. I am like master of words when it comes to virtual society (cyber world) [still exaggerating].
Sarah and I chatted a few minutes about our academic future plans. I asked her mobile number. We shared out numbers. And that’s how I got the phone number of a girl for the first time in my 18 year old life.
It was the arrival of the New Year, the bell gonged 12. I was sleeping like a polar bear, until this freaking scream of a guy ranting ‘Incoming’ which would go ultrasonic as the pitch sharpened along the ranting (which is my ring tone by the way) broke my slumber. As I pressed the ‘miss call list’ button and looked at who dared to wake me up, my eyes widened and pupils dilated. It was Sarah herself who miss-called me. My heart was pounding harder and harder trying to blast my diaphragm, and my mind was unable to think of anything productive.
I just rolled my eye-balls to the back of my head and tried to sleep. It was hard to believe that what just happened wasn’t a part of my dream.
I woke up at 4am and send her an SMS saying “may your abode be bright and radiating even in the nights of load shedding, Happy New Year”. (I had sent the same message to all my friends whose numbers were saved in my mobile. But she was the only girl in there).
Morning 7am, I got a message. It was her again, replying
“gudmornin n happy new yr!! was gr8 2 receive ur msg, stil remember d coll days n ur swt smile. Keep smiling”.
I paused for a while. Couldn’t believe my eyes. I was a free spirit flying higher and higher. I smiled the whole morning. My day was done. For the first time, reality seemed to be more beautiful that the dream.
I got her miss call again after a few days at the midnight. It had scared me, so I sent her this:
“hey! U cald me?
Mis u havin around, but u scard me now. Hope u r fine, I’m worried abt u. was it u who cald me or did sb else usd yo cel?
Nyway, hav fun!
Plz let me kno If u cald me, gud nite!”
I felt so stupid jackass after I re-read what I had just sent. But I was really scared coz I was not used to any calls at the midnight, usually at the time when I would be having a nightmare. And the ring tone itself was scarier.
Do you wanna know what she sent me back?
“it’s me yar. Y u scard? It’s ur fren Sarah n m doin prty gud.
It was a miscal 2 remind u of me.
Mis u 2 n ur cute smile. Wonder when I’l get 2 c it again! Wel take care. :)”.
Then I changed my ring tone and put a special love song ‘I believe’ from Korean romantic film ‘My Sassy Girl’ ascribed to her number. So whenever I had ‘I believe’ playing in my mobile, I would know it was her.
While I was still waiting for the results of back-paper of the subjects I had flunked in, she had already been admitted to the best engineering college of Nepal. I congratulated her for getting into the coveted college, and asked how her days were. Do you know what she sent me back?
“me doin fine. Wel, col is ok bt mis Xaviers. Mis u guys a lot. Keep in touch n tc.
N keep smiling n keep rockin”
It was Jan28. I stopped sending her messages or miss-calls because I was hurt a bit by the ‘guys’ part. I felt as if I was just one of the many guys in the crowd, and I felt that I meant nothing special to her. But she sent me miss-calls on Feb5 and finally, on the night of Feb14, V-day, at the midnight again.
This was flattering to me than ever. I just got a miss-call, that on the V-day, from the least expected person. I couldn’t stop grinning and flashing out my rabbit white teeth. Butterfly fluttering around me, jingle bells on my ears…. I was absolutely mesmerized, just by her miss-call, probably because that was from somebody I wanted to be with, most probably because that was my first time getting some attention on a Valentine’s Day.
I sent her an SMS saying “happy V-nite. Have a swt dream n take care”. And within a few minutes, incoming along with piano of ‘I believe’,
“Same 2 u n thank u.
U too have a sound slp n the swtst dream (jus like u)!”
Her perfectly sweet SMS bowled me duck. But again I argued to myself that it was just my fancy. Why would she have a crush on me anyway? it was hard to fathom what she meant to imply. I desperately needed to extricate myself from this unwarranted crush.
Every time she gave me a miss-call, it induced all the emotions that lied inert before. I used to moon over and over again, on the messages she sent.
How I wanted to message her-
“My embrace will keep you warm
In the glacial cold
My breath will fan you a zephyr
In the scalding hot”
But I didn’t.
The fear of getting rejected hovered over the tangled nerve circuit of my practically empty skull.
How I wished to write-
“I am zapped by the pangs of doting beauty
And that beauty is you…….”
But instead I resorted to “I admire you”
She replied me back “I admire you too...”
That’s all that happened till now.
I guess something is better to be implied, than to be spoken out. I could do a PhD in that one line message I just got.
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