Part 1
Every time I cry I keep wondering how every part of my body and mind encourages my eyes to flood more tears out…. Then I think about the types of tears like in happiness, sadness, excitement. In sadness! it might be a petty issue or a life issue. Where do I start my story I mean which cry of mine? May be only cry of mine for which my mom, dad, brother and my entire relatives laughed and were happy about.ohh.. yes!! I was born then, with that loudest cry as criteria I was pretty much famous in my home and the whole community.
Schooling was so fun especially the co curriculum part than anything else because that’s the only thing I remember after these many years lol no I am not advising kids , not to study no offence to my school too. OMG statuary warnings are so important these days before u start your actual subject, even then people get into trouble #AIB Roast.
Coming to my first crush …hehehe I am still in my schooling never mind I used to just see him and be happy!! My exact movie of following the guy was pictured right in the year I was born 1994 my first love, I wonder how they made a Korean movie. Didn't they have a language problem? #senseless. But still they missed some parts of my story like; I just missed riding my scooty over him while I was still in the process of “I just want to have a glance at him “it’s a holiday! Today! No school how can I see him” And those long few seconds when he looked back into my eyes and mutual staring at each other
Crushes are more beautiful than serious relationships because there is no responsibility, no worry, and no commitment. Just look at your crush and smile like an idiot.
For that glance of him I had to make many strategies (his class was in another wing) luckily there was art gallery in that wing. I took a fake interest in drawing and painting for those few seconds of glance and spent all my free time there. It never worked though!
When I was pretty busy with all this shit running in my head my parents were even much busier in searching for a new school for me to join. I was scoring really low and my “co curricular “activates were exceeding the time I spent with books, so obvious I had to leave the beautiful greenery of my garden, mothers food and dads pampering.
My hostel life was a terrible experience, everything was terrible about it be it food, study hours, early morning yoga, exercise each and everything competed with the other to stay as terrible as possible. It took a month or 2 for me to get adjusted to it and make new friends, things seemed better later. As they say when you have a problem just face it and face I, eventually you will get habituated to it and have peace with that problem (this one actually “I” said not “they”), it happened with me too.
Home sick holidays…3 months away from home was a very big deal, there was a celebration to my heart( for that glance), got to meet all my friends, I was so happy And then I overheard the most shocking News The HEART ATTACK news which I heard from those whispers was the guy I was stalking has a girl friend and there were 100s of love letters caught in the scene of crime! Obviously it is crime scene, at least for me.
Here comes the cry episode for so long and long. I thought I will never think of the guy again, not him, not anyone else. Then I wondered if I ever existed in his life, does he even know me?
Went back to my hostel, I knew what it was like” love failure” in movies, I would have won a national award for a love failure character I was just perfect, fitting into it: no sleep, tears which can fill barrels. In that year there was no drought I had the whole credit (expect that no one knows about it till date) #senseless.
I focused on my academics (and I hated boys) I am the topper of my class. Sometimes I thought the best thing about me is I kept my secrets to myself! It’s obviously the best thing because if you can’t keep your own secrets it’s just foolishness to expect others to keep those secrets for you. My first love failure has changed me a lot; being a girl it’s my birth right to day dream and think of the person on the horse. All those strands of dreams reached their dead end. There were no more
Life was definitely boring, books were interesting but come on I am a teenage girl. I am not that sincere.
Summer holidays after 9th class were just the perfect time for science and mathematics tuitions. Friends, parties, slip tests everything was just perfect being at home
I promised my parents to study well and no co curricular activities I urged them not to send me back to hostel. They wouldn’t listen .I was deeply upset and hurt.
Actually to tell you your parents know the very correct thing to do to you, only that you realize lately!
So back to hostel boarded the bus to school!!!The first day of 10th class, senior most batch in the school and yes! the top section students have an edge over others to show off in all aspects. It was a pleasant day at school, and then this incident which I would never forget in life happened to me. This guy got down from the bus and was staring at me, now the logic is I knew that he was staring at me, how? Even I was staring at him! he was handsome ,tall ,fair, the perfect prince to say! Yeah there was a sad part about him he has spectacles and he was wearing a pink bag! huuhh…I hate that bag of his. That night I had weird dreams of searching my prince and not finding him: D
To be continued…