The First One...

Vivek Sir said, "Humko pura bharosa hai Mayank par", and the class erupted into giggles. This was the result of the series of stupid answers I produced in the Physics class. I am talking about my FIITJEE days. There was but one smile which stood out in the sadistic realm of reckless laughters; the very innocent, sweet yet mischievous one, it was hers.

18 June 2007. After a long wait after my matriculations, the sessions for class 11th  finally began. Excited as I was, I browsed through the faces in the class. Some of them were new but none fresher than hers. Economics section didn't have the reputation of procuring the best looks of the school, she was no exception. Average IQ, hard working, sweet and low pitched voice, were more than enough to cast the spell on me. We happened to sit together in the class. I also was lucky to have her in my batch (supposed to be the best one) at FIITJEE. We shared books, numericals and glances.

I was happy, kept smiling for no reasons, the hindi songs had suddenly started making sense, some of them felt to be tailor-made. I would miss out on no opportunity to impress her, in ways more than one. Then followed the series of maverick trips to the City Centre. Come August 5, when I was introduced to the concept of Friendship Day.

I don't recollect a harder thought process than that which ran into my conscience the very evening. I consulted some of my supposedly "cool" friends, yet did not come out with anything good. The play of despair was beautifully protagonised by me until I had this crazy idea. This still tops the list of stupidest things I've ever done. Next morning I left from my home early, went to a stationary shop which also used to be a hangout place for us Dipsites. I got a Cadburry Crackle, a peacock feather and a card.  

I waited for her to arrive, as she would, surrounded by too many girls. I preferred patience over stupidity. Four classes passed, I still didn't have proper opening. Driven by desperation and despair, I waited, went to the washroom at least six times, some visits were to bring down the pressure, while others to rehearse  the lines.

The last bell rang. I asked her to stop until the room was almost empty. I never felt a noise louder than the ones my heart muscles made. Wet in sweat and petrified, I asked her to follow me. She shot some questions, I replied vaguely. I was mortified and had no idea where to take her. I took her to the library, found a corner which according to me was least alienated. With my heart beating like drums, I extended the the card, the chocolate and the feather.

And oh boy, wasn't it the most rewarding moment of my life when I saw a pristine smile float across her lips that said, "Thank you and same to you!!!". We shook hands and exchanged numbers.

Friends, this was the last time I felt her warmth, a touch, more delicate than the talc itself.