Unsaid

It was just like another school day, we were all gathered on the last bench sharing jokes and making fun of each other. The girls of the class were gathered on the other side, giggling. The assembly bell rang and we all started to rush towards the door, trying to get out before it was late and we got punished. In the rush I bumped into her, and she fell on the floor. Everyone started laughing and I bent down to help her stand up. She looked up at me with anger and tears in her eyes. Her eyes, so dark, so big and so beautiful; it was the first time I had seen her eyes. Her glasses fell on the floor when we crashed, and I had stepped on them.

She was now screaming something at me, her eyes wide and so beautiful. A few other girls joined in as well, but I don’t think I remember. I was under a spell; everything and everyone around just didn’t exist.

I was jolted back to reality by our class teacher, who got me by the ear and scolded me for my misbehavior. I was punished that day. Since I broke her glasses and she couldn’t see clearly, I was to sit next to her in the front bench and help her with what’s being taught.

When I took the seat next to her, I could see how awkward she felt and how rest of the class giggled. For the last couple of years, girls and boys never sat together in class. I took my place next to her, extremely aware of her presence; I could smell her and feel her warmth. My heart was thudding in my chest.

The class started and she drew closer to me to see my notes. I swear my heart stopped each time she came close. I didn’t dare to look at her all day; I knew I’d be in trouble if I looked at her face. I wasn’t sure what I felt and why, all I knew was that I didn’t want the day to end, ever. But it did.

On the way home, my friends made fun of me for being stuck with “Chashmish”.  I had given her that name when she first wore glasses in class 3 or 4. We’ve been in the same class since our primary years. Till today she was always this lanky, bespectacled, nerdy girl in my class. She always had her hair in a long oiled braid and her skinny body in an awkward looking uniform. She was taller than most boys in class, which added to her awkwardness. We all made fun of her, especially me. I used to share a bench with her till a few years back because our last names were the same. I think we were friends till puberty struck and the teachers made all the girls sit on one side and the boys on another. I don’t think I looked at her in all these years, not the way I did today. For the first time I looked at her face and her eyes.

Had she changed, or was it me? Now I didn’t want to call her “Chashmish” and I didn’t want my friends to tease her. But I couldn’t say that to them. I told myself that I’ll be fine later, and what I felt was nothing. I went about my day as usual, tuition classes, homework, chores, fighting with siblings, arguing with mom, typical day.

The next morning, while entering school I was looking around for her. My heart was fluttering and my eyes searching for her face. Finally I spotted her; back to her “Chashmish” self. She smiled at me as we crossed each other and my heart skipped a beat again and my life changed forever.

The rest of the year was spent staring at her from my bench, hoping to she would look back and smile. She did a few times and those times marked as the most beautiful moments of my school life. I was in love; “Chashmish” was my first love.

It was common to have a girlfriend, most of my friends did. But I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her how I felt. We were often paired for group activities or games owing to our last name and similarity in height. In all these times I just couldn’t say a word. All I could do was stare at her face and those eyes behind the dorky glasses.

And then came the final day of our school year, our School Farewell. She looked stunning, in her simple sari, her long hair dancing on her waist and no glasses.  I sang for her that night (my last performance at school), the only time I put my feelings to words, but no one knew it was for her. I knew this was my last chance but I couldn’t. I hoped the words of my song reached her.

“Humain tumse mohabbat hai…jatana bhi nahi aata…” (I’m in love with you and I don’t even know how to express it)

It was the last time I ever saw her. Most of us exchanged contact and college details, exchanged promises of always staying friends and always staying in touch. We just exchanged a smile before she left. That image has been etched in my heart forever.

Even after all these years, I sometimes write her name on my palm, just to remember the feeling of my first love.

“Hatheli par tumhara naam…likhte hain mita te hain…”