Last Saturday was a memorable day if you were to look at it from one point of view but it’s not so memorable if you were to look at it from another point.
Last Saturday was Ethnic Day. It’s a day where every student dresses up in his or her culture’s traditional attire and attend college. At first it was kind of scary mostly because my traditional attire happens to be dhoti which is probably one of my most not-so-favorite attire. It’s because it doesn’t remain around my waist long enough for me to do even one day without any embarrassments. I still could’ve gone for the one the North Indians wear but I didn’t want to forgo my traditions just because I couldn’t handle it. So I went for it anyway.
I wore a dhoti with a belly crumbling belt right below the knot of the dhoti just to be sure. I must admit, it did look pretty good. And I got a couple of pretty convincing comments from pretty convincing persons about my outlook. But the expected one didn’t say a word.
I didn’t really expect anything from her anyway mostly because I barely know her except for some facts and that’s not enough to comment on another person’s attire. I mean we still don’t talk face to face. We’ve only just been texting over the phone. It’s still in its beginning stages you see.
But the moment I stepped into the class, I lost it. I lost my will and willingly fell in love with her beauty. In a traditional saree, she really did look gorgeous and mesmerizingly beautiful. I mean I did expect her to be beautiful and all but this, this was something beyond my expectations.
Something that was sweetly shocking to me.
I must admit I was kind of slightly jealous. I mean, she was very beautiful and everyone wanted to talk a snap with her and I couldn’t get one, damn I was jealous on a micro level. I do not want my jealousy interfering with her independence or something. She got all the damn right to do whatever she wants. That’s how it is. Always.
Don’t I have the right to be possessive over her? I still haven’t officially forfeited any attempts to try to get to know her you know.
I wanted to say a lot of things to her. My confidence boosted by her beauty was going sky high. And we had only one session of classes on that day (yes, we sat in classes in our most uncomfortable attires wishing it to end as soon as possible) and as planned I went near her to tell her everything I wanted to say, unmindful of all the people around us.
But I could not.
I was stunned. I was overwhelmed by her beauty that I simply stood. I simply stood near her not saying a word. I just kept staring at her without blinking an eyelid like a man lost in time. I just couldn’t take my eyes off her even for one moment.
That’s when a security guard came and asked us to vacate the class and assemble in the open auditorium.
We left or rather I left with the idea of finding the nearest wall and banging my head onto it for missing such a wonderful opportunity. Yeah, it was heart-breaking indeed.
Then an hour of performances passed, most of them which I could not even comprehend. I had no idea where she was sitting in the auditorium and I simply kept staring upon the stage without any hopes of seeing her again on that day.
Then came the announcement that after the performances, we are free to join in and dance to the music the DJ will be playing. Most people were happy but I wasn’t.
First thing first, I don’t dance. Second thing second, if you got any doubts over the fact of me not dancing, please refer to the first statement. I just don’t dance. I just don’t. I’ve never danced in my whole life and did not intend to until that day.
The music was blaring and the whole college was dancing all over the auditorium and it kind of felt like a disco, only in the open. Out of sudden impulse, I went in looking for her. I found her happily dancing around our classmates. That’s when I lost it. I simply went, joined them and began stretching my limbs. Technically, I can’t call it dancing because I didn’t know how to dance (I still don’t). So, what I was doing was stretching my hands and my legs to what felt to me as rhythm. I guess the other people accepted it as a dance and I blended in.
I did not see anyone. I did not see anything. I heard some beat and I kept dancing (the so called stretching my limbs will henceforth be referred to as dance. No offense meant to any dancers) all over the place. Her smile gave me so much happiness I forgot the fact that I ate nothing all day and I danced non-stop for two hours straight and I was still raring to go for more even as they announced that the free show would end after a couple of songs.
I don’t know. She just made me feel better. She just made me overcome one of my biggest fears: dancing. I know most people would think those stuffs happen only in movies. I used to think so too. But now I believe in it because I saw it. I saw myself doing stuffs I’ve never wanted to do ever.
I saw myself becoming better. I don’t know if it’s just my way of turning love it into a positive force or if it’s truly love for her that made me do it. But I believe it’s the second. I want it to be the second.
Isn’t it awesome to write your own story as it unfurls? It feels exhilarating. You know what the best part of it is? She reads it. Yeah, the girl I’ve been talking about for three straight posts have been reading everyone of these posts. And she personally thinks I’m good at writing. She doesn’t know that it’s about her. Or, I think she doesn’t.
Is it a desert blessing? An ocean curse?
I think she’s the most perfect one that’s why I’m fuming with love for her. I don’t even know if she likes me or anything. Yeah, I would want to know but I don’t want to throw her off-guard and get her to ignore me after that.
I won’t ask her that. I’ve seen love where one person proposes the other and goes on spending his entire life making her realize how he’s the best one for her. I don’t want mine to be like that. I want to accept that she’s the one for me even before I go down on one knee in front of her. I want her to know that I’m the best one for her before that happens. I want her to smile from her heart when that happens and say ‘yes’ without a single inhibition.
Now that’s what’s called a match made in heaven. Technically, I don’t believe in a heaven or a hell so it would be a match made to make earth a heaven. Yeah, that sounds better. I like it.
I would like to end this post with a brilliant and touching quote by John Green in one of his finest works ‘The Fault in our Stars’
“You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world. But you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choice. I hope she likes hers’’
Thank you for reading this. It means a lot to me.