Going
back to the past, or reminiscing is fun. Like the case today, i was reading my blog
and stumbled upon this post i had written a very-very long time ago.
Reading soon after you write, you lose the ability to discern your own
writing. But reading it after what it feels like a lifetime, it sure did
bring a smile on my face.
"Does anyone care what a guy wants"-1
Many moons ago, a young girl, reticent and nervous, came up to a guy and said, “I love you”. The guy, or rather a young boy in his early teen, looked into those eyes that were flooded with affection and love for him, smiled and continued his nonchalant ways. She failed to see love for her in his self and left him, albeit with a heavy heart.
Years later, the boy, now in his thirties remembered her, with fondness and love. He wished he could see her again, just one more time and say how much he still loved her. He inhaled in deep sigh, wondering and marveling over life and its many ironies.
Doesn’t that sound a bit autobiographical? Yes indeed. That young boy is no one but yours truly.
I was blog hopping the other day and stumbled upon a blog which raises the question “what does a girl want”. Well, girls themselves make them sound as if they are some alien species from some far away galaxy. Well, most of the time, what a girl wants is what a boy wants. A girl wants a boy and so is vice versa. Did I over simplify, is it so simple?
Reading that blog has triggered my pondering process and many scabs of old hurt have torn themselves open . One such was the case of my would-have-been-sweetheart, which I started this post with. That girl, although quite beautiful and good, failed to burrow my heart, all because I thought she needed me more than I needed her. Why such a rational? After all, its not every day that you find a girl come up to a boy and say; she loved him. I found myself flying in the air like hot air balloon with pride. It was after she left, that the reality sunk in and I came falling to the ground, un-parachuted. I did all that to get her back but it was too late. In plain language, I took her for granted.
I haven’t told you what-and-all she did to express her love for me. She supported me for everything stupid I said, she would keep turning at me between the classes and our eyes would lock( we were classmates), she would wait for me for lunch, call me every day after the school, in the pretence of homework doubts, buy me gifts with her meager pocket money and so on and so forth. Shameless me never bothered to return a gift, not even once.
Then, some years later, I started working. It was then that Deepali came to my life, like quite clichéd saying-like a whiff of wild roses. I found her irresistible. I would do everything for her. I dreamt, ate, slept and many more such things of her and finally, after about half a year being good friends, managed enough courage to propose her. There comes my biggest disappointment! Instead of accepting, which my overconfident self convinced me all along, she rejected me straightaway.
Well, not straightaway, but tactfully. She said, to quote in her own language- “Well, humm, you know, I mean, you are good and all, but, humm, I am not ready, you know, I can’t commit, may be, I don’t know, shall see, I don’t know, later tell you. “ And the later never came. I was frustrated, heartbroken, hurt, and many more such things, all in one. She made me take her to expensive restaurants, movies, coffee shops and least to say, made me poorer by several thousand hard earned rupees. My financial analytical mind tells me, if I would have invested that much in shares I would have reaped rich dividends by now. But as they say, love is blind, so was i.
And again, much later when I finally met my wife, I realized what I thought as love was plain infatuation. This is what love was; the one I had for my wife.
Now, surprisingly, when I look back at those reminiscences, I find all that as a big joke, a rather pleasant joke. I am glad I went through all that in life. What else do you call life-but mere reminiscences, and loads and loads of them? Some pleasant ones, something which you want to share to the world and yet some, which are best kept, locked inside some furtive corner of your mind.
To sum up: Its not all too important whom you love, the people who love you are much more important. There are lessons to be learned at every nook and corner, but never wait for life to teach you lessons the tough way.
"Does anyone care what a guy wants"-1
Many moons ago, a young girl, reticent and nervous, came up to a guy and said, “I love you”. The guy, or rather a young boy in his early teen, looked into those eyes that were flooded with affection and love for him, smiled and continued his nonchalant ways. She failed to see love for her in his self and left him, albeit with a heavy heart.
Years later, the boy, now in his thirties remembered her, with fondness and love. He wished he could see her again, just one more time and say how much he still loved her. He inhaled in deep sigh, wondering and marveling over life and its many ironies.
Doesn’t that sound a bit autobiographical? Yes indeed. That young boy is no one but yours truly.
I was blog hopping the other day and stumbled upon a blog which raises the question “what does a girl want”. Well, girls themselves make them sound as if they are some alien species from some far away galaxy. Well, most of the time, what a girl wants is what a boy wants. A girl wants a boy and so is vice versa. Did I over simplify, is it so simple?
Reading that blog has triggered my pondering process and many scabs of old hurt have torn themselves open . One such was the case of my would-have-been-sweetheart, which I started this post with. That girl, although quite beautiful and good, failed to burrow my heart, all because I thought she needed me more than I needed her. Why such a rational? After all, its not every day that you find a girl come up to a boy and say; she loved him. I found myself flying in the air like hot air balloon with pride. It was after she left, that the reality sunk in and I came falling to the ground, un-parachuted. I did all that to get her back but it was too late. In plain language, I took her for granted.
I haven’t told you what-and-all she did to express her love for me. She supported me for everything stupid I said, she would keep turning at me between the classes and our eyes would lock( we were classmates), she would wait for me for lunch, call me every day after the school, in the pretence of homework doubts, buy me gifts with her meager pocket money and so on and so forth. Shameless me never bothered to return a gift, not even once.
Then, some years later, I started working. It was then that Deepali came to my life, like quite clichéd saying-like a whiff of wild roses. I found her irresistible. I would do everything for her. I dreamt, ate, slept and many more such things of her and finally, after about half a year being good friends, managed enough courage to propose her. There comes my biggest disappointment! Instead of accepting, which my overconfident self convinced me all along, she rejected me straightaway.
Well, not straightaway, but tactfully. She said, to quote in her own language- “Well, humm, you know, I mean, you are good and all, but, humm, I am not ready, you know, I can’t commit, may be, I don’t know, shall see, I don’t know, later tell you. “ And the later never came. I was frustrated, heartbroken, hurt, and many more such things, all in one. She made me take her to expensive restaurants, movies, coffee shops and least to say, made me poorer by several thousand hard earned rupees. My financial analytical mind tells me, if I would have invested that much in shares I would have reaped rich dividends by now. But as they say, love is blind, so was i.
And again, much later when I finally met my wife, I realized what I thought as love was plain infatuation. This is what love was; the one I had for my wife.
Now, surprisingly, when I look back at those reminiscences, I find all that as a big joke, a rather pleasant joke. I am glad I went through all that in life. What else do you call life-but mere reminiscences, and loads and loads of them? Some pleasant ones, something which you want to share to the world and yet some, which are best kept, locked inside some furtive corner of your mind.
To sum up: Its not all too important whom you love, the people who love you are much more important. There are lessons to be learned at every nook and corner, but never wait for life to teach you lessons the tough way.
