This is the 11th part of my blog series The Diary Of A Teenager. If you haven’t read the previous parts…then go ahead they are all here…..
__________________Love-Lost-Love_____________________
The greatest weakness of men is woman and the greatest strength is also a woman. In my case, my biggest problem, at the moment was a girl and the biggest weapon to counter it was a woman- my mom. Though, I still get dizzy thinking what if mom had come to know about my first crush. Even then, she used to tease me with names, but the fact is, every parent does this, until they find out that their wards have really taken them seriously.
I was kind of tensed the other day when my English teacher, who is still considered as one of the most horrifying ones, taunted me for my falling concentration in her classes. This was something very new to me, as English has always been my favourite subject. Added to this were the strange looks and her cautiously chosen words – like you are getting distracted…why suddenly etc. I could eat properly, attend classes or even talk to Shalee properly. She asked me several times, why I was tensed. But I could reply; I just evaded the question.
Finally, I decided to do it. I called her out from her class during the class intervals. She was smiling when she was just a few inches away from me. I wonder whether she could have anticipated the words I was going to utter. It made me feel worse, she was so innocent and was so full of love, I really didn’t want to spoil her day, but was left with no option.
I was weak kneed by the fact that someday a small bet could ruin my life…or I was just thinking stupid. Finally I spoke after a few minutes of creepy silence, ‘I am afraid we can’t continue…’
Her smile faded to give way to a shocked look. I couldn’t handle the situation, so I walked out. She didn’t ask and I never ever thought to reason with her. I accept, I was a jerk, a big buffoon or in much harder language – a basturd. And even today, whenever I see her, I never find to mutter the courage to look in her eyes and converse. I still feel so ashamed of myself, though she still tries and asks my sister why I don’t talk to her. May be this blog is my way of saying sorry to her, if she will ever read.
Continuing with the anecdote…
Life wasn’t simple at all and all sorts of hormonal, emotional and physical intricacies kept creeping up again and again. After the break-up me and Shalee both were asked by hundreds of people that why we broke –off. But though me and Shalee had never ever sat down to find a common answer, I found out that we both were, though very surprisingly, giving the same answer that we were never together and are still good buddies.
The only time me and she met up in the school was art class. I simply hated the art teacher ‘coz she felt every child should and does posses the talent of drawing. I was terrible at it. That’s why I never used to carry my drawing book to school. but that day it was a different art class, a class I will never forget.
I was sitting in the art room, with few of my friends, when Shalee entered the class with Rohit; he was the school football team captain. I don’t know why, suddenly I started feeling very uncomfortable and irritated. May be because, I had never imagined her, spending her time with someone else. I tried to look the other side and distract myself, but in vain. The teacher finally asked me the routine question: have you brought our drawing book? And I riposted with a usual ‘NO.’ but this time she had other plans so she asked me to get out of her class.
I could have happily escaped the art trauma, but when I saw that Rohit was slipping a drawing sheet to Shalee, it made me sic. I knew that she would also have forgotten to bring her sheet, and this jerk was trying to be a gentleman. That pissed me like hell and so, I replied my teacher- why me, when there are others who have also not brought their books?
The arrow hit the bulls-eye, Shalee’s eyes got wet. A few seconds later, a tear traversed through her left eye and vanished somewhere near her lips. The teacher rushed to her, she was one of her favourites and teachers freak-out whenever someone hurts their pets. After constant persuasion, Shalee just said, she was having a headache.
And that made me feel smaller. She could have said anything and ma’m knew that it was my comment that made her cry; and that’s exactly why, I felt like a sadist. That day I realised that I did probably win a bet, but in order to save my head, when I broke-off, I lost much more precious thing – someone who truly loved me.
