It was love at first sight. I know that's a pretty dramatic proclamation but it's true. He was the professor for English History. He was the youngest professor in the history of DU and extremely handsome. Yes, he had legions of girls crushing on him but no, he did not have a girlfriend (my stalker abilities know no bounds). I was a first bencher and a nerd in my class. So how was I going to grab his attention and make him reciprocate the way I felt for him?
I tried going to the one place I knew like the back of my palm : the library. I scoured the book shelves for anything that would tell about how to woo good looking men. Yet I failed. I was in shock. How could this even be possible? I tried again. I searched google and every damn social networking site to check out anything related to this "research topic" and again I failed. Un-freaking-believable. No worries. I tried the movies. Every damn movie from Roman Holiday to Pretty Woman to DDLJ.
WHAT THE HELL? Grumpy as hell, I went to college. The days passed on. Then one day lady opportunity knocked on my door. We had to submit an assignment on the radical writers and their theories. Yes, it was a boring topic. But then again when has history been interesting(except for the egyptians and the romans whose spicy personal lives were a joy to read). As usual I ended up in the library. I have a habit of working long hours. That Friday was one such day. I worked for hours together taking notes, earmarking pages I wanted to print and quotes that I wanted to use.Due to my reclusive and reticent behaviour I didn't have friends. But I liked it that way. It was nice,this solitude, this isolation. After the divorce of my parents(when I was five) I pretty much stopped being social. It was irritating. Those pitying glances, uncomfortable questions, awkward moments when other mothers came on sports day and what not, those things just put me off from friendship forever. I created my own world where I was perfect, everyone loved me and I had books for solace. My father did not have much time. He was always working. He had built an office even inside his study room. So he pretty much worked even on sundays. This attachment to work was something I welcomed and also inherited. It allowed us to communicate less with each other. I went into my shell and he went into his. It was as simple as that.
As the evening turned to dusk, I lost track of time and then I heard a tap on my table. I looked up, a little irritated at the interruption. He looked at me those hazel eyes looking surprised, his rakish long hair just going from here to there. "It's closing time. You have to leave. I am in charge for closing the library on Fridays till Mrs.Naaz gets well.So, if you don't mind can you wind up?" he said. I was dumbstruck. For two whole minutes I just stared at him. What do say at these times? How do you sound funny and witty without being offending? God, why didn't they teach us these things in schools. It would be so much more helpful.
He stared at me. Then abruptly he left. Shit. Why am I so stupid? I quickly closed my books and put them back in their respective shelves, all the while feeling horrid. As I got out, I found him standing outside. I hurriedly went to the gate and guess what? Yours truly banged her head directly at the glass wall and ended up with a big tomato on her forehead. He jumped because my crash sounded worser than it actually was. He picked me up and made me sit on the bench outside the library. Quickly he closed the door and ran to the water cooler at the end of the corridor. Soaking his handkerchief he put it on my swollen head. His hand was warm. It felt nice. I just stared at him through my good eye. His curly locks hung on his forehead carelessly.
I just felt the sensations in my body that day. They were other worldly. It was pure ecstasy. Who needed substances when you could be high this way. "Better?"he asked gently. "Much better"I replied softly. He looked at me. I must be a sorry state because I saw a flash of sympathy followed by guilt.
Yeah, yeah the same old crap. Don't date your teacher, don't fall for older men, you will lose your dignity and degree and along the way he would lose his job and livelihood. Lovely. Just splendid. DAMN YOU SOCIETY! My brains were still calculating the amount of years I might have to be like someone's housemaid before I get my degree, when he abruptly got up and left. Just left. Like stay, be nice, be the good film hero, be the guy who stays and takes care when the girl gets hurt and all the mushy-mushy crap. LIKE WILL YOU JUST STAY? He turned around and stared. And I stared back. Wait,did I just say that out aloud? Did I just act like a complete nut in front of him? Oh crap.
He stood there waiting that I would explain myself but I just sat there like a dumpling and continued nursing my head. He came back and sat next to me. Yeah, now it's better. Way better. I really am a perverted creep. Just a random off-track observation but true nonetheless. He waited patiently hoping that I would now utter something. Nothing. Just nothing. He was probably exasperated by the time I finally stopped nursing myself. Then on a whimsical impulse I got up, took my books and left.
Ho,ho,ho. He must have been irritated because in my thesis he gave me B. An all time low for me(YES, I AM A NERD.DEAL WITH IT). It must have hurt his big fat ego considering he doesn't usually get treated like this. It's usually the other way round. So I waited for him to come to his office. He had a separate cabin with a library and a table separately. Oh, he was a royalty in literature all right. But even the royals gotta treat their subjects right. And with this belief, a little indignation and a lot of butterflies I waited outside his cabin. When His Highness did finally come, he smiled a roguish smile.
"Come in", he said, mischief dripping from every word(please bear with me, I am twenty my hormones are haywire and I don't have a boyfriend so it's understandable) . I stated my query(why the bad grade?), to which he replied " Oh,you didn't explain the behavior of this new author". Huh? New author? I was puzzled and to answer my query he opened the last page of my paper. My name was written in neat handwriting. I stared after which I nodded and left.
I sat late in the night thinking about the meaning of it. Yes, I was entering a dangerous situation from which there would be no return. It could go in two ways: wither up or down(no pun intended). We could have a happily ever after or a horrendous future. It could go both ways and with that thought in my mind I wrote about "that" author.
Next morning after submitting my paper I sat in class with a new sense of relief. It was as though I had just got from a deep slumber.
My note went something like this:-
"This author in contention is a bundle of contradiction. She is lost soul and a grounded human being, a vagabond and a settled human, lonely yet surrounded, happy yet sad, angry yet calm, has forgiven and and but has not forgotten, is scarred and healed. She can look at the world in wonder but never forget her past, yes she does believe in a future where she can hold hands and walk into oblivion. Does she involve you? Yes, she does."
When he came to my class for the next hour he looked right past me. No reaction. None. It was as though the past few days hadn't happened.
I sat silent and was a little more than heartbroken and dejected. That night I did receive a mail. It said:
"The general opinion on her holds that she is beautiful in a Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice kind of way. She is someone this man hopes to be with one day. He cannot remove her scars for they make her who she is but he can definitely make a future so beatific that the scars of past will forgotten in their happiness. All this schmuck asks of is one year of time for by then the author would have graduated and none will be hurt. He hopes to marry her too but that can be seen later. Depending on her response."
ONE YEAR LATER.....
"Samar,will you get a grip of yourself!We are going to be married! Have some mercy on me!" I rolled my eyes and laughed while he tickled me.
"Oh no Ms.Suhana Sen ,not forever. Hasn't one year been enough for you?"