I stood in the long line for First Year admissions, sweating under the scorching sun when I saw her for the first time. She looked fresher than the morning dew, prettier than the mellow sun. I wondered what her name was and was she applying for the same course as me? Would she be in my class? Was she committed? (She was hooked to her phone since last half an hour) And ya what was her name?
Well I was just an average guy who considered him to be below average or sometimes above average so in short if we take the average then I would be considering myself average on average, a statistical tool I was only able to remember out of the many which went above my head. I was fat enough to be called as healthy, dark, well built and not handsome owning to some special facial features inherited from my not so pretty looking parents.
Studies were never my forte, I hated maths and used to wondered who had seen the 2 hydrogen and one oxygen atom in water but it were the real things that caught my eyes, the mighty mountains, drifting clouds, shady greens and all the beauty and calm nature had in store for her seeker.
My parents (as good looking as me) were mighty proffessionals with a series of degrees on their business cards and a business consultancy firm to which they groomed me. as prince (I was hardly anywhere prince charming if u imagining, nor do I ride a white horse),infect I was more nearer to the clumsy, gangly, shy and timid guy next door. The only thing I used to say was haanji when something asked or ordered of me to do.
When in life you live is someone else dream it fills you with a void and to fill a void you need something. Some resort to alcohol, some to cigarettes, some to porn, drugs or some prefer to just let life pass away watching TV soaps. .I was neither daring enough to try out the addictive nor lazy enough to watch my life waning in front of a box. Thanks to my dominating parents I could hardly do anything I loved so I filled my void with GIRLS, girls from school, from collage, from tuition classes, from neighborhood. Everywhere and anywhere I found a pretty girl I would try my chances on to her. I changed schools, joined classes and even changed my city to Mumbai just because I had heard their pretty girls here.
Collage started soon and sooner I got to know her name, Saybanti Bose, I quickly figured out she was a bong. The next thing I did was download a Bengali ringtone and dialed a fake call with her near in the corridor. My trick worked it caught her attention in my fourth attempt, she asked tumi ki bongali??(are you Bengali?) I answered kemon acho (how are you?, it was the only line I had picked up from a bengali friend specially for the the occasion) she gave me a sweet roshgulla smile and I was in love with her ( now that’s what I thought)..
We eventually started talking . .then chatting on fb . . Then texting and then what happened what ALWAYS HAPPENED WITH ME, she eventually lost interests and then with her repeated ignorances I happened to be too.
Its an old Arab saying-What happens once only happens once but what happens twice happens again. Just the way it happened with Neha, Miya and Sumi in school the same happened with Sima, Gunwanti and Rashmi in collage. While my parents put me on intern in their office and the best days of my life started turning worse. I couldn’t pass a minute at work without yawning and my poor results in 3rd. Attempt at CAT. Made things worse and made me feel useless. With girls too I was not getting much progress though I talked to every girl in class and had her number.
It was the month of April, I was just out of my collage exams and the work load in office was at its peak .suddenly my head started spinning as if it had lost its weight, darkness blurred my eyes and Thud, I collapsed.
I was taken to the nearest clinic and with diagnosed with hypertension level II. The news devastated me, it meant I could die before 50.
Ab ladki pata na to dur, I didn’t even know if I would live enough to see myself growing old. Life lost its charm, I started getting late to class, late to office and anything stressful used to make me giddy.
It’s said happiness and good times in this world worth living 100 live but actually it’s the bad times and awareness of death which teaches us the best lessons and makes us wise. I turned to God, used to pray in morning, in office, in collage, everywhere and anywhere I got a chance to. Prayers became my only refuge.
I was on way to collage while I chanced to see a place called Shrine of Mother of the Forsaken, It was a oasis of peace, a church adjacent to the lush green military engineering collage, I had seen it a hundred times but never dared to enter. It was quiet inside and serene with presence of Gods grace inside.
I prayed, I prayed and I prayed. I desperately needed a signal something to change my life, guide me something like shore for a lost boat, shade and water for a lost out in desert, caught in storm called life.
That night just before sleeping my mobile buzzed, I had received text from an unknown number-
Stop searching for love, you will find it when you start doing things you lov……………….