HOW MY LOVE STORY ENDED BEFORE IT HAD EVEN STARTED? (PART 1)

NOTE: This story is purely based on fiction. Any resemblance with anyone's life would be just a coincidence.

Our story started from the temple, “The Pashupatinath temple”. Long time back, there was a programme organized where one crore Shivalingas were made near the temple by Shiva devotees so that the Shivalingas could be taken to Devghat. I too had gone to the temple to make Shivalingas. It was Monday, the day I fast every week. It was the first time I saw him. He too had come there to make Shivalingas. He sat next to me. He was with his friend. They both sat there and genuinely started making Shivalingas. Well, boys of that age being serious about God, taking God and religion seriously, it was impressive.

As he was just next to me, I could hear him talk. I heard him say to his friend, “Don’t you wear Janai? What is there to be ashamed of? It’s our culture, our pride. We are Brahmin and we should take it as an honor.” When I heard that, I couldn't resist myself but turn my head to see him. I was already too impressed by his enormous respect for his culture and religion.

He was taller than me, neither too thin nor too fat, not that fair and not that dark. By then, I had already started to imagine us together. I blushed. I sat there till late, made as many Shivalingas as I could, and walked back home.

Two years later, I was at British Council library. I was sitting there reading a book. I had some issues with the book, so I went to the help desk. I had left my notebook on the table where I was sitting. Suddenly, I heard a voice say, “Wow! Such a beautiful handwriting! Ahh…Akrity! Beautiful name as well…A lady with beautiful name… flawless handwriting…how beautiful must she herself be?”

Before I knew, I had started blushing. I turned around. Surprisingly, it was the same guy I saw two years ago at the temple.  As I was staring at him, he must have realized that it was my notebook. He said, “Sorry miss. I didn't mean that. I was just joking.” He smiled, gave me the notebook and just walked away.

Again, six months later, I was walking down the road. Suddenly, my leg slipped but somehow I managed not to fall. A voice behind me said, “You are an express. Try walking slower and yes! Your heels are bit taller.” I was angry and before I could say anything, I realized it was the same guy again. Before I could think of anything, he was gone and yet again I blushed.

Time took a three months leap; I had to attend a party. I dressed up. I was all set for the party. I was wearing a sari and everyone around me said that I looked astonishingly beautiful in yellow saffron sari and black blouse. It was my favorite sari.

At the party, I was alone. There I met a woman, a bit older than my mom but she was an interesting company. I don’t know how educated she was, but she had an intellectual personality. She could talk on any topic. I knew she was too impressed by the way I was talking. After all I am too not that weak in giving big talks.

As our conversation continued, she said, “You should meet my son. There he is.” Before I could say anything, she called out, “Son, meet her. She is a nice girl. I've been talking to her since we arrived.” To my surprise it was the same guy from the temple, the British Council and the road. I was already blushing. I got butterflies in my stomach. He looked hot in that black suit. I was nervous but I absolutely didn't want him to know that. I just said, “Namaste”. He immediately replied, “Mom, she is well mannered and beautiful too and her face seems familiar.” I just didn't know what to do. I just smiled. He gave a long stare with a big smile. I couldn't make an eye contact so I just looked down. I wonder if he noticed me getting blushed.

Someone called his mother and she left.

 He asked, “Have you had dinner?”I just nodded my head, “No.”  He said, “You've got a company then. I haven’t had anything too.” We went to have dinner. He said, “After you” and gave me plate and spoon. I served myself some food and so did he. We sat together, had dinner, talked and laughed. Well, he had great sense of humor.  We had dessert and then he introduced me to some of his friends. We danced at the party. We had lots of fun. I was wondering if he likes me too. Otherwise why would he be with me when he had so many other friends there. And he seemed to enjoy my company and so did I.

It was getting late and it was already the time to say goodbye. He said that he really enjoyed my company. He and his mother left first. I too was returning home. I was blushing just at the thought of him. I was smiling alone on the road. But I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Then suddenly, Shit! I forgot to ask his name. Neither did he ask mine. If only I had asked him his name I could have contacted him through social network. I was left with all the regrets for not asking him his name. Will he ever try to contact me? Will he remember me? Did he really have fun with me? Did he even slightly feel the way I felt? All these questions in my head made my smile just go away and again there was that depressed look on my face. This way, my love story ended before it had even started.

Well, though coincidentally, we have already met four times now. So, on a positive note, chances are, we will encounter somewhere the fifth time. If we ever do, I’m sure he will recognize me and who knows it could be a new beginning to something extraordinary.