A boy of 12, falling in love with a girl of eight, only to be snubbed by her throughout school life. At the age of 25 (during a visit with friends to Mount Mary in Bandra) — when he’s still holding on to those beautiful memories of how she once sashayed into the school exam hall, borrowed his expensive Parker for the paper, and unconsciously put its cap into her mouth — he’s startled by her presence.
“Johnny,” she says, “After such a long time?”
“Err…Sandra,” he asks, shocked, but not once surprised at what youth had done to the geeky teenager he still loved from school.
“Wow, you’ve grown into a handsome young man,” she says.
He stuttered nervously, “Err..uhh…well…Thanks,” wishing he had the courage to say the very same words to her.
That was 29 years ago. Today, they are married with three kids, and a house, they’ve so meticulously worked on, to make it “their home.” Their’s is a fairy tale — one which could undoubtedly begin with a “Once upon a time,” and end with an “And they lived happily ever after.”
I’ve grown up listening to this fairy tale, or so believing in it, cause it played right in front of my eyes and I knew how beautiful it was. So, I would be lying if I hadn’t expectantly waited for my very own little love story.
At the cost of being mocked at and being made to look like a fool, I continued being this so called “believer,” who waited for her “Mr Right” — that Knight in shining Armour (so much so that I also wrote two poems on it http://www.janeborges9.blogspot.in/2010/08/one-of-them-is-in-love-with-you.html) — who blew her heart away (Yes, I can be very corny or mawkishly sentimental as dictionary.com puts it subtly).
I was teased for being single, with one saying, “you will end up like an old hag, rotting at your office desk, till a good old 60” and the other saying, “you just don’t look enough… why don’t you keep your eyes open when you walk;” or my mother telling me every time she came from church. “I prayed that you find the right man, who keeps you happy and blaah, blaah, blaah, blaah”. Trust me, none of these dampened my spirits.
Then, one day something happened… no, not the love story… like how I had imagined.
But even as a new hope has spooled in everyone’s heart, except mine…I am reminded of my father — he still has that Parker pen, and guess what, it hasn’t been washed or used since then.