FIRST CRUSH
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He was 17 going on 18. Four letter word LOVE was taboo so far
his conservative family was concerned. Eagle eyed parents were always
suspicious of his activities as he was prone to defy their orthodox ways which
were mainly negating the perception of an adolescent’s desires and aspirations.
He was interested in extracurricular activities, loved to watch movies, used to
day dream and was an extrovert. As a normal boy of his age does, he used to fantasize while looking into the
mirror and harping on to be the next Hrithik Roshan and Ranbir Kapoor. Three grand, gorgeous and
beautiful ladies of tinsel town viz Aishwarya Rai, Depeeka Padukone and Katrina
Kaif had caught his imagination. He used
to adore them like a moth attracted to a lighted candle with irregular
adolescence dreams both wet and dry making him crave for the carnal knowledge
and pleasures.
Here was a girl of his age in his residential block. She was
an ordinary neighborhood girl but his imagination could metamorphosis her into
a girl with Aishwarya’s infectious smile, Katrina’s figure and Deepika’s
dimples. When he saw her first, she was checking a Hanna Montana’s video at a
neighborhood video parlor. A strong urge
set upon him which made him to conquer his fears and to approach her. Fear
remains till mind stomps it. Once the fear is stomped, there is no looking back.
“Hello,” he muttered
almost in her ears. She was startled and backed off two steps. Finding that a
smiling neighborhood boy, standing in front of her, did not mean any harm; she
looked around and said rather sheepishly, ‘hello’. That was the beginning of
friendship between the two.
Soon he found out ways to meet her not at a secluded place but
at the crowded ones e.g jagrans, melas, markets, temples etc. They talked but
mainly through their gestures looking odd and funny sometimes for the onlookers.
She always responded to his gestures but was never actually comfortable. A
strange fear used to grip her. A fear, which led her to pray for his well
being. Once she met him at a corner of the block and he dared to hold her hand
first time calling her ‘Deepu’ which left her aghast at his brash behavior. She
jerked her hand out of his and almost shouted. “What ! I am Reetu not Deepu.”
“No, you are my Deepika, my Ashweria, my Katrina, all rolled
into one. Three in one.” He said naughtily. She coyly asked him, “and who do
you think you are? Salmaan Khan….? “ He saw her run towards her residence
laughing with one corner of her dupatta(stole) in her mouth. His day was made.
The age old dictum ‘ hansi to fansi’( if a girl laughs, she is yours for sure)
was coming true in his imagination. However he never approved that dictum as he
always felt that every girl had a right to smile and her smile should never be
construed for her easy availability. Smiles are deceptive too, he had read
somewhere. He definitely had a strange crush on her as always. He felt to be waiting for her appearances. He
always felt to be dancing and talking with her. His mind worked overtime
enjoying every moment with her, even forgetting his studies as he used to feel
her presence around him every now and then.
One day he took courage and confronted her in the market
place under a tree. She was puzzled at first but smiled and beckoned him to
come near her thus encouraging him to speak his mind. Mustering enough courage, gulping down his
own saliva, he held her hand and said the obvious three words, “I love you.” She was stunned but her eyes betrayed her
emotions while some pearls dropped from the corner of her eyes. She became
uncomfortable and felt as if she was trembling. She said in low tone, “no, I like
you but I am not supposed to love you. You are not from my caste.” Profusely sweating & shivering she ran
away leaving him brooding over his utterance and worried about subsequent
consequences unawares that a person was watching them across the road.
In the evening he was sitting with his father when a stoutly
built man barged in with his dream girl . #@$&#****#@$&# That was it.
The end.
His first crush was guillotined at the altar of caste system
leaving him searching for the answers.
At his age was it undesirable to fall in love?
Was it only one sided love?
Was it, what agony aunts/uncles used to call, infatuation?
Or was the time not ripe for a budding love to take its roots
in the social system that still abhors relationships between two different
castes?
Questions about relationships by the society keep raising its
head like a hydra time and again, now and then.
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All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
Disclaimer : This story is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Tribhawan Kaul
kaultribhawan@yahoo.co.in
