is it love?

CLASS XII
i can't even remember how i met her....
all i remember is her in winter uniform...green sweater, grey skirt, red glass of fountain coke in hand.
her friends' names flash through my mind.....atam, berry berry, rahat
her sleeping. gokul threatening to wake her with a poke, grinning wickedly. me sternly stopping him.
expressing to her my twinge of sadness at her leaving for mumbai. her holding my hand.

i remember her smile, i always thought mohini's was kind of similar.
i remember waking around 6 and driving to the airport through pouring rain to see her off, and i remember missing her coz she took the other gate.

i remember those std calls i made to her from the booth near our tuitions, vasant vihar. they used to last 4-5 minutes, and cost 80-90 bucks.

i remember akshay making fun of the frills.

most, i remember how i felt about her. no physical attraction. i just wanted to sit with her, holding her, her hands in mine, protecting her from the world. she was never pretty, but she had always been beautiful.

her making out on scribble day with some guy, no strings attached. that hurt.
her being upset at not doing well in the boards. that hurt more.
visiting her, with the 3 page letter. now thinking back, that was really stupid. but atleast i remember her house. and the long black dress she wore that day.

i miss and cherish those memories of cold winter mornings in the school bus. it would stop in front of her apartments, wheezing and grunting. i would scan the embarking crowd and catch her eye. usually she, goks and i would sit together. pitch dark outside, gloomy yellow lights on inside. it felt like we were the only beings in existence, with the fog outside cutting off the rest of the world. complete isolation. we would huddle in the cold, playing games, along with neha and manjari. those are happy memories....

where did they go??

PRESENT DAY
december 24th, 2007. i'm in goa, with my gang from L. we're having a blast, and just preparing to set off for a christmas party in a club someplace. my phone rings; an unknown number. i start working up a head of steam for these damned telecallers. and when the high pitched voice says it's a N*****a, it takes me a second to recognize her. it takes less than half a second after that for all of the above memories to rush back to me. suddenly i'm that shy, hopeful, introverted, painfully skinny schoolboy once again, clothes neatly tucked in, shoes polished, tiffin in my bag, thinking about that demi-goddess whom i revered, that 17 year old who was the coolest person i knew. 17!!! what an awesome age!!

she's almost 25 now, and i'm well into 23 myself. where have the last 7 years gone??? we lost touch while she was in mumbai, and didnt know of each other's existence till goks came across her profile on orkut. after over 6 years, we said hi again.

when i found out she was coming to mumbai and i gave her my number, i didnt really expect her to call. meanwhile i mused at the pleasures of flirting with her in case she did.
all of that fell away when she did call. she called!!!! childish, innocent joy!! this girl might like me!!! the thrill of a kid saying hi to a girl he has a crush on. no other way to dscribe that thrill of pleasure.

we met twice, for a total of 6 hours approximately. it was awkward at first. not just due to the long time, but also because i wasnt sure if she'd prefer me to be the kiddy friend she left behind and who she was immensely fond of, or if she'd rather i acted my age, a young man, fairly mature, yadda yadda. tuns out i needn't have worried. being me was ok. if anything was not ok, it was glossed over by her incessant chatting.
i have not met anyone else who could talk 4 hours out of 5 in a first meeting. and i drank in her words. i dont know how much i followed. it was just such a pleasure hearing her and also knowing she was comfortable conversing.

i think the best thing i could have done (possibly in my life) was gifting her the bouquet of flowers that i did. she said no one had done that without ulterior motives, and that was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. maybe a slight exaggeration on her part, but man, i felt soooooooooooooooo good.

on her part, i loved that she kept calling. she had no ego, and dutifully called whne she said she would. she took initative to meet me. she called me sweetie. and like a yesteryear romantic, she asked me to call her when i got home, to make sure i was safe.

and now she's gone. and i feel paranoid about her leaving so soon after we met after so long. it's like i'm afraid of losing her again, even though i never 'had' her, so to speak.
and all i can think of are the 2 lines running from her nose to the edges of her mouth, accentuating her cheeks. her perenially half closed eyes. the 17 million watt smile. the burn weal-like stretch marks behind her arms. the giggle. hugging her (something i never did 7 years back).
and all i can think of is holding her, protecting her from the world.

she was never pretty, but she was always beautiful.

is it just a powerful memory and idea?
or can this be love?