The word charm has its own definition within
each man. So when I say she was charming, it may not be in justice to what you
perceive. The most notable piece of charm or beauty in her was the way she held
her bag. It seemed the bag was the most jubilant thing on earth, hanging to
her side and kissing her each time she moved on. Men like me had to ensure that
nobody else is looking at us, before we threw a millisecond look at any
specimen of opposite gender. So I had the habit of carrying a book which I read
indifferently, and every time I felt to have a glance, I just made a relaxing
motion with my neck, snatching a quick look.
Our classroom was unique in its own terms. There
were all kinds of student species although the strength was too low. With a
very low EQ and an above average IQ ,the class was meant to be perfect for
teaching. Each one of us nodded at the teacher creating a pin drop silence
while she enjoyed teaching a class, kind of which she could only dream of.
That day one of the teachers planned a
surprise. When she put up an idea of group discussion it was agreed
unanimously. May be everyone was fed up of the routine lectures that I could
see a glitter of excitement in each of the eyes which I saw. The grouping
began. Everyone searched for their group mates as the teacher called out the
roll numbers. I kept waiting for my number while I saw everyone else getting
grouped up, except two of us.
I prayed that the teacher had a rethinking
about that. But she was firm with her decision of only two of us in a group.
Ofcourse, disaster management was something we had learnt, but this one seemed
out of control for me. I could see her waiting for me to join. I had no choice
but to sit beside a girl who made the beauty quotient of our class, shoot to
something above average. I took the unnecessary precaution of looking away, but
girls like her who considered themeselves to be queens never looked at anybody
else.
The teacher distributed the topics and ordered
the discussion to be initiated. I had a look around. It seemed like we two were
chargeless neutrons in the midst of buzzing electrons, all excited and agile. I
could see many thought-to-be ever closed mouths getting opened up. I looked at
her. It felt like she was disturbed by the very near presence of an irritating
creature which she had never expected to happen. I could see the teacher
watching us, trying hard to control her laughter. But this girl never showed a response. With extreme humility
that I could create, I asked her to lend me a pen. She opened her bag and
searched for a pen. The pen seemed to be reluctant to leave her soft fair hand.
I caught hold of the pen very carefully taking immense care not to touch her. I
thought even a very negligible touch could create another catastrophe and so as
another precaution I moved my chair away and started writing a discussion
summary.
She got up, went to the teacher and asked for
a change of group. Teacher laughed with a negative response. I saw her sitting
idle, either cursing me or her own fate. I had an intention to talk but that
seemed to be one of the most idiotic ideas then. The shouts and laughters from
all other groups made her feel sick. The half an hour class seemed too long.
And at last the bell rang. Everyone wished the
hour to be longer, except we two. I submitted the paper, kept the pen in front
of her on the desk. With a graceful motion of hands she took the pen and looked
away. A ‘thank you’ seemed to be out of context affair. I walked away with a
sigh of relief.
Years later when you reiteraited that incident
and described your anger then, I felt sorry for you being grouped with a boy who
was sick of female presence. Twelve years of school life did not teach me any boyish
acts to disturb a girl. For, if it was two to three years later you could have
ended up being the girlfriend of one of the most weird man on earth.
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