If I were my own psychiatric case, I’d call for help really fast. It amazes me how complex a human can be, and that too studying myself I can tell, by not being a serial killer, how close I am to his occupational, less hazardous cousin- the serial stalker. Obsession grips me at the drop of a hat, and I don’t stop at anything to get what I really, impulsively want.
My spectrum of interests is a small one, but its so maddening that people who say ‘never say die’ re the first to say, ‘hey get a grip’. And though I can certainly say I’m not getting the message through to you, I’ll leave it at that and rant about something else.
When you go to college, it’s not coincidence that you spot people and find a few cute. Really cute. Gorgeous even. And how I did see this particular guy is still another story I call my own little college love story. May be clichéd or so predictable you’ll be able to name the characters and tell me what’s to happen next, but for me, it’s my story, and just as important to me as yours to you.
So to make mine easier, and more important to me, I’m gonna write it in parts. Just the way it happened in phases.
Ready? I never was either!
Part 1: glances and that’s all.
It started at, surprise surprise, the college fest. Me standing in the audience. They were asking people to come on stage and dance (nope Pushkar its not you). Music in the background: ‘Dil na diya’ from kkrish.
Everyone’s prancing about, when a boy in a blue shirt comes up front and confidently does his bit with such grace, that the people who are watching are left with their mouths open. Me being one of them. He comes down after a few seconds and gets lost in the crowd.
I spot him again in college a few days later. So he has really clean eyes. Not big, not blue, not hazel. All I notice that they seem to look as if he’s just woken up and washed them. I have no idea who this boy is, even which standard he studies in. All I know now is that he dances well, wears good shirts, and has clean eyes.
And when he did look back at me, my face went red.
My spectrum of interests is a small one, but its so maddening that people who say ‘never say die’ re the first to say, ‘hey get a grip’. And though I can certainly say I’m not getting the message through to you, I’ll leave it at that and rant about something else.
When you go to college, it’s not coincidence that you spot people and find a few cute. Really cute. Gorgeous even. And how I did see this particular guy is still another story I call my own little college love story. May be clichéd or so predictable you’ll be able to name the characters and tell me what’s to happen next, but for me, it’s my story, and just as important to me as yours to you.
So to make mine easier, and more important to me, I’m gonna write it in parts. Just the way it happened in phases.
Ready? I never was either!
Part 1: glances and that’s all.
It started at, surprise surprise, the college fest. Me standing in the audience. They were asking people to come on stage and dance (nope Pushkar its not you). Music in the background: ‘Dil na diya’ from kkrish.
Everyone’s prancing about, when a boy in a blue shirt comes up front and confidently does his bit with such grace, that the people who are watching are left with their mouths open. Me being one of them. He comes down after a few seconds and gets lost in the crowd.
I spot him again in college a few days later. So he has really clean eyes. Not big, not blue, not hazel. All I notice that they seem to look as if he’s just woken up and washed them. I have no idea who this boy is, even which standard he studies in. All I know now is that he dances well, wears good shirts, and has clean eyes.
And when he did look back at me, my face went red.
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