Sleepless nights are back again.

No, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea – I haven’t caught the love bug again! But, fact is, that I wasn’t able to sleep for more than three hours a stretch, for the past week. I still can’t comprehend why/how it happened; perhaps some inscrutable chemical process in my brain was the culprit, apart from burgeoning acad-pressures. Somehow, the Gods of slumber  have started playing a rather queer game with me – my sleep would be inadequate during weekdays. But, weekends (or more precisely, Saturday nights) would see me snoring off, smashing all sleep records in the process. This Saturday Night was a personal record – 11.30 hours, straight!

Coming back to the point, as I’d stay awake all night – I wouldn’t be doing anything of much value. It’d be just me, my PC, and  the new Samsung Star (not to mention other random bedroom-stuff) – forlorn in the cramped recesses of my bedroom. As I lay aimlessly on my cozy bed, headphones intact, with the room glistening to the myriad colours from the Fight Club screensaver – my mind would travel at blazing speed, playing back memories of my life in 1080p glory.

No points for guessing this, but a lion’s share of such memories would be about those mushy times I shared with my lady loves – imaginary (mostly) and otherwise (just once).

Before you swear at me for writing about love for the umpeenth time, lend me an ear. (Or both, if you aren’t deaf in the other ear! )

I’m a hardcore romantic. No matter how much I’ve sacrificed for this guttural feeling (you’ve no idea how much!), no matter how much I advise counsel my buddies (and myself) about the virtues of staying single, love comes on top of my list, any day, any time. I could attribute such skewed priorities partly due to the stark fact that love INSPIRES me. Hell yeah! Each bit of success, and each minute achievement I have had in life, I owe it all to that divine feeling! True, I might have sacrificed more than what I gained, but still, the gains are closer to my heart than the losses. Besides, this is no game of poker to win or lose! No, I do not believe in the school of thought that life’s a game – if you want to argue, so be it!

Of all the crushes I’ve had, of all those ‘intimate moments’ I’ve shared, my first love remains closest to the heart!

It was wonderful -  it seemed, we were made for each other. We could just look into each others’ eyes and understand what the other person meant – reading thoughts was a daily affair. And she was amazingly-pretty,  so was her voice. I still tune into a particular radio station to listen to the voice of the RJ – whose voice is surprisingly similar to hers!  Every single day, we’d talk to each other for hours – even if we had nothing to say, we’d still keep talking  We haven’t had many intimate moments together, but the few were the best moments I’ve had in life. At one point in time, I was so sure I could marry her – I weaved dreams. We had children, grandchildren, and the family tree progressed – in my dreams.

But then, the wall came tumbling down. It was very sudden, and shocking! There was no going back, and it was no mistake of ours. The world around us changed so rapidly, that we failed to notice.

And then, I lost her.

Depression ensued. With huge effort, eventually I fought back my incessant tears – I had buddies who lent me shoulders to cry on. After a long long while, I learned to move on.

It’s exactly been two years now. Two years is a long long time – and I’m still single. Not that I despised female company after the incident. Quite ironically, my female-friend circle multiplied and today, my closest friends are all females. Yes, I’ve moved on. But still, the quaint memories of  first love still linger in the portals of my mind. No, I don’t miss her, not one bit. I still believe that everything happened for good, and I found out ample reasons to drive the fact into my mind. It’s just those fond memories – they stay on, like a pleasant daydream one can remember and smile back at. The relationship did mould me in ways more than one; and despite everything, it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had!

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end.

- Benjamin Disraeli

P.S.

This video should explain my feelings  – It’s one of my favourite songs:

Oodles of sweat oozed from beneath the layers of my epidermis as I bent myself in postures my physique would permit, in a bid for the best shot (if you would pardon the pun) of the bedazzling debate on stage. Capturing the sound and fury on lens wasn’t an easy task. Despite the air-conditioning, my sweat glands seemed to be on overdrive – the proof being a drenched Alen Solly shirt that haplessly clung onto my upper-torso like a soiled superhero jacket. Perspiration. Exhaustion. Fatigue. And you thought organizing a debate was as effortless as a Dan Brown book! Four days of relentless work from coding a website from scratch in a harrowing two-hour deadline, to criss-crossing the city in a battered bike braving thundering typhoons to single-handedly transporting 30-odd wooden chairs – I (happily) bore the brunt of it all! And I rightly needed a sound sleep.

Even so, with suppressed weariness, I put my best foot forward, struggling with the minimal manual controls for the camera, in pursuit of that drop-of-the-hat Kodak moment. The bodily compulsions of aggravated metabolism rates notwithstanding, I achieved nominal success. Outstretched arms of angst, eyes burning with passion, menacing expressions that hid deep loathe – I had them all in the memory card. I hadn’t lost my touch, yet!

As I was deftly trying to capture a dodgy frame of a vociferous (female) debator, my friend, a co-organizer, ran to me, phone in hand. The eclectic music collection in my phone became solace to his music-starved self – he had to listen to a particular track at that very instant and had grabbed away my phone a few minutes ago. My phone vibrated nonchalently in his outstretched hand a contact image flashed on the screen. -  an image I’ve always loved and adored. The green top, the curly hair, the smiling face. Involuntarily, I smiled in recognition.

It was her.

Almost as if in reflex, I grabbed the phone and sprinted over to a corner of the hall. I’d called her a few  minutes back, knowing she’d be on her way back home, after a  seminar elsewhere. She couldn’t take my call then and had called back. I almost felt ecstatic as I’d listened to that chirpy “Hello”. I’d started listening to a particular program on FM, just because the RJ”s voice had a striking similarity to her voice!! For a couple of instants, I couldn’t utter anything – her voice had its charm, and I needed time to regain consciousness! She appologized first for not being able to answer the call and said that she was on her way back home. My face lit in glee. I asked her where exactly she was at the moment and she answered that she’s close to the place where I was located. I commanded asked requested her to get down then and there! It was late, already and she protested – meekly though. On further insistance, she complied and said a YES!

I was the happiest dude in the planet!

Thrusting the camera to a girl who stood nearby, I bolted! Her voice was like a shot in the arm, I no longer felt any fatigue pulling me backward.  Dodging the crazy city traffic, cutting across roads, barely avoiding getting hit by huge trucks, I ran. I could feel my lungs puff out, but I couldn’t care lesser. When you’re in the quest to satiate your quenching heart, nothing else matters! 500 metres of sprinting, and I spotted her silhoutte from distance. She was resting by a wall near by the bus-stop, actually, sitting on its lower pedestal. I could feel my cheeks heat up as blood gushed up into my veins. I walked towards her, her face becoming clearer as I approached. She was gorgeous by her own right – the cynosure being her curly hair. At first, I never liked curly hair – even my hair was unbearably curly, but after meeting her for the first time, I started adoring it. It suited her perfectly, and accentuated the beauty of her angelic, round face – perfectly sculpted, like a skin-cream model. So were her jet-black eyes and neatly-threaded eyebrows. They emanated a powerful, charming, and equally disarming gaze. She hadn’t changed one bit, since our last meeting, a couple of weeks back. But, she’d chosen to wear one among the few salwar kameezes she owned. A pink-and-violet one. I’d seen it in pics, but never knew it’d suit her so well. She was lost in thought, and the expression  of her pensive face was quite delightful, indeed!

I went close to her and muttered a quick “Hello!”. She gazed up at me and graced me with the best one of many brilliant smiles. Her smiles were again, the BEST, I’d seen. So mind-blowingly-awesome. I almost lost balance and fell down on the road. The two of us gazed knowingly at each other for, probably, and extra-long second, and we walked together. I was reminded of our first ‘walking the talk’, a year back. It was our first meeting and the walk was pretty long – it still remained etched in the portals of my mind.

Having not had a proper conversation for over a month now, we chit chatted all the way. I talked as she listened and interacted. That was another thing I’d loved about her. She was the perfect listener. I loved to gaze deep into her jet black eyes as she listened intently to whatever I said. She was tired from an extra-boring seminar and was worried whether parents would scold her for being late. Yet, she forgot her blues for me, and listened intently. I told her about my gaffes with booking the CAT Slots, and surprisingly, she too had done the same! Her eyes grew wide with surprise – it looked cuter now, I had to suppress my instinct to pinch her cheeks! I enlightened her about the procedures to be followed. I couldn’t help but keep staring at the jet black which peered deeply into mine! Nonetheless, I realized that the gaffe actually proved an opportunity – we could actually share seats in the same CAT train and actually give the exam together. I joked about that to her, and she playfully agreed!

By that time, we’d actually reached the auto stand, and it was time for her to leave – it was pretty late by then. The realization that 15 minutes sped away fast took some time to dawn upon me. I badly wanted more of her time, and I had to restraint myself from asking her out (literally), this late. With some coaxing, she might give in, but it’d only cause untold problems at her place. Finding an auto for her and waving goodbye, I walked back to the hall, happiness and joy bustling within me in a fountainhead!

This time, I almost told how I felt for her, but a part of mine simply refused to. I’d missed out on a lot of opportunities that I had to make her feel how I felt, and it’s been more than a year, now! Maybe, I was afraid I’d lose my best friend to love! Or maybe, the time is not yet right.

But I’m sure, I’m drop dead sure it’s love! <3

P.S.

Readers are requested to take the contents of this post  literally.

Update:

Contrary to what you might’ve felt, this post is just a figment of my imagination. But it was too fictitious to be real, I still have vivid memories in my mind. I thought I’d write it down here. Forgot to mention that part when I posted it first.