Many a time, we come across people who leave a major
impression on your life. Even if they are not meant to be yours, you wish to no
limits that they were… This story is of one such person who touched my life and
I wished she were mine.
“How many times do guys fall in love?” she asked me. I could
feel her utter disgust towards boys. Little did she know, with every word she
said, I was falling in love with her. I tried to be smart and said, “Boys can
fall in love a number of times… with their mother, sister, friends,
relatives….” But I didn't answer her question. I knew that she knew about my
past affairs and brief stint of romance with a few members of the opposite sex.
Little did she know, what I felt for her was very distinctive, very original...
Yet I never dared to confess for the fear of losing the “cherub” to the
senseless felling of worship.
My first interaction with her was nothing which could be
described as – out of the ordinary. I was not even sure if I liked what I saw.
A petite young lassie full of exuberance of youth. Her hair were silky and her smile was
strangely revitalizing. I sat with indifference thinking about all the money
that she might have spent on those expensive hair treatments. I took a sudden
dislike towards the incredibly attractive idol of splendor. I had no coherent
explanation for hating the paramount beauty. Maybe I hated her for the effect she
had on me. I hated being controlled by someone…
But as fate would have it, we met over the most unusual
circumstances… at an airport. I was having a bad hair day. I had not slept and
I was getting irritable by the hour. The endless packets of cigarettes that I
smoked added to my fatigue. And today, there she was… all excited and bored of the proceedings at the airport. Just when I excused myself for another
cigarette, one of my trainees, who now worked at the airport, saw me and came
up to me. We spoke about life back then and life now. Then he pointed towards
her and said, “Who is that beautiful girl there? Is she with you?” I looked at
her, this time I did realize that she was by far the prettiest girl around.
“Yeah!” I said. Then out of nowhere I said, “She is my girlfriend.” I didn't know why I said that. My trainee looked at me with envy. I’m sure he had a lot
of questions to ask. I stubbed the cigarette and joint her. The thought about
calling her my girlfriend kept coming back to me every now and then.
I had almost forgotten about it when, I met her again during
some celebration. We kept on meeting again and again and
again. Now I did not hate her anymore. Eventually we started talking more and
more. Her words felt like a song to the soul. I now wished her to never stop
talking. Her voice was very addictive. I realized I had become addicted to her
voice, her smile, her captivating looks, her touch. I just didn't seem to get
enough of it all.
As we spoke, I
realized why I was so fond of her. The reason was she was just like me in many
aspects. She wanted to be the master of her destiny. She cared about herself
more and did not like others caring for her. She was generally disliked by
people, who thought that she was a snob. I was considered a snob too. I lived on
my own conditions and she did too.
So, why did I not tell her how I felt? Simple, I found her
too perfect to be true. The day I find a fault in her, I will tell her for
sure!!! Till then, she will remain a Darling Princess and I would wish her to
be mine.
