To be crushed

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “First Crush.”

Back in high school, I was the ugly duckling and the Tom boy of the class. So it came as a surprise to me, as well as my friends, when I discovered the existence of hormones and the appeal of “boys”. And this is the story of the Tom boy and her introduction to the world of boy drama. So buckle up please. It does get interesting.

The first time I met Mr. A was one of those freak coincidences. But then crushes are usually of such kind. So it was my semester exam of 9th standard, and there I was sitting at the last beach of the first row, slogging hard to remember all the significant dates of history, cram down the geographical map of India and remember civic laws. And there, he enters the classroom; all fair and handsome, with dark thick spikes, chocolate brown eyes. And the only thought that was on flashing on in neon lights was: “Dammit Ishita!!! This is not the right time, but holy crap!!!” I tried my level best to attend the call of my dear books, but next thing you know I see him strutting down the row, all the way towards me. If you ever had a crush in your life, you can totally relate to this feeling. He sits down next to me, and I just looked at my best friend. And she started laughing right there at that moment. You see, we ladies have this homing signal that gets activated on seeing a fine male specimen. And when scenarios like this plays out, other than wiping the drool of your face, the only other option you are left with it is to laugh it out.

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Anyways, the highlights of that exam were in this particular order – he was my senior (I do like men who are couple of years older than me ;)); I discovered his name and I doodled over it a lot for the next two years; He helped me with tips to make my answers look better; and I scored the highest because of him. Over the next three semester exams and my finals, he was there to make the experience of writing horrendous exams the most blessed ones.

Every time I saw him in my school corridors, my heart used to flex its muscles and do a happy dance. I used to find excuses just to have a glimpse of him. A failed attempt of course, since he never gave me his time of the day. You see, tom boy and ugly duckling never really registers anywhere in the social scale of men. I passed two years in the agony of unrequited “love”.

And then the dreaded day came when Mr. A graduated. Oh how much I cried that day. No more stalking on corridors. No more sneaking glimpse of him in labs. No more shirtless view oh him playing basketball. My first crush, and he just left. I have a feeling the back pages of my notebooks did breathe a sigh of relief from all the doodlings and FLAME Love Tests that I indulged in.

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Well time flew by. I finally stopped being the ugly duckling in college. And one day, shit literally hit the ceiling. Pardon my words, but there’s no other way to describe that feeling. I came back to my hostel room happy drunk from a party, and I open my Facebook. And behold!!! I see a friend request from Mr. A. I actually thought I was hallucinating the whole damn thing. Inebriation is a tricky friend. Of course, I had to accept him and stalk further to find out more. It is one heck of a talent that I possess. I am a good social media stalker. My heart did its happy dance when I saw the My crush looking fairer and more handsome. Same chocolate brown eyes. Same big, open smile. Same fair and handsome guy who stole my young, innocent heart. The only difference in the story this time is I am not the same tom boy girl any more. I decided to charm him with my social skills. Long chats grew into long distance calls of 4-5 hour duration. Then the story progressed to first meeting, first date, first dance, first kiss…. Well, you get my drift right? And voila, I dated my first crush. It was good, as long it lasted. Now we are living the trademark “just friends” life.

Oh what a trip down the memory lane this has been!!!

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