There is something miraculous about a person’s first love. It’s a feeling that cannot be explained. It happens when one’s heart starts fluttering like a butterfly and the person doesn’t know why, when the mind starts wandering to unknown places but never really reaches anywhere. You think about that ‘special someone’ all the time. The more you think, the more you smile. This smile spreads a warm glow on your face that touches everything around you like the morning sunshine. (I am smiling as I write this post.) You may fall in love again with another person but the memory of the first love always remains.
Today I found myself wandering in the memory lanes of my love life. I thought about all the guys whom I liked both secretly and openly. Some of my crushes used to last for quite a while, others not so much. I remembered how all my gal pals and I used to sit down and talk about different guys and their idiosyncrasies, how we praised some and bitched about the others. Countless hours were spent calculating meaningless love percentages and compatibility scores on the internet. And as I was thinking about all these things I remembered my first love, the guy who made my heart skip a beat for the first time, the guy who made me blush for the first time, the guy whom I absolutely adored.
I was very young and very naive at that time. But surprisingly my tiny little heart was mature enough to understand what being in love was like. And it was selfless love, pure and transparent just like a dew drop. There was no lust or greed associated with it. Things like family background, financial status, social status were inconsequential at time and I am pretty sure these terms made no sense to me then. I sat in class and secretly admired him. I ensured that he became my dancing partner in the school functions. I never missed an opportunity to be in his company. Every time he smiled at me I felt a little tipsy. And it all happened to me when I was seven years old -not that young an age. Is it? 😉
It was the cutest thing that has ever happened to me. The very thought of it lightens up my face and raises my spirits. There are a lot of memories associated with that time which are clearly etched in my mind. I remember myself in a polka-dotted frock with my hair tied up in a piggy tail waiting for him at the school gate. Oh! how charming he looked in his striped shorts and printed shirt with a plastic water bottle hanging around his neck. I always imagined raising a family with him, just like the three bears- Mamma Bear, Papa Bear and Baby Bear. Together we would live in the woods, as they did in the bed time story books.
I never articulated my feelings for him, not even to my closest friend. Why? Well, for those of you who have forgotten seven is an age when boys and girls are supposed to hate each other, when girls are supposed to say “I hate boys” or “Boys are so stupid” (That was the expected norm in my friend circle. Obviously ten years down the line these norms are always revised). I had no inclination to defy them and become an outcast. I guess social acceptance was not something I was willing to give up. So, my feelings for my prince charming were never made vocal. Telling my parents was out of the question as they were “not cool enough to appreciate my feelings”. Alas! I was the little girl with a skeleton in her closet.
Whenever I was around him, I was happy. Unfortunately my happiness was short-lived as his parents came to the conclusion that our school was not good enough for their super smart son and they decided to put him in another one. And it was then, ladies and gentleman, at the age of 10, that I suffered my first heart-break. The love of my life was being taken away from me. And there was no one to take me in his/her arms and say “Its going to be ok… don’t worry”. Even my dolls and stuffed toys proved to be of little help.
The best thing about a young mind is that it forgives and forgets. It does not carry the bad memories of the past like a heavy baggage. So, gradually, over a period of time my feelings began to subside and before I knew I was over him. This marked the demise of what could have been one of the greatest love stories of the 21st century. 😉
So, as all of you must have gauged by now, I was totally into this guy. Call it a crush, love, infatuation whatever you please. It was there. It was real. It was unadulterated. Many of you might have difficulty assimilating the fact that a girl so young can have such feelings. But it happened to me. And I am sure it has happened to many of you too.
The memories of that time always make me laugh and I forget all the little things that bother me right now.
Oh! How I wish I could fly back in time.
How I wish I could relive those days.
How I wish I could be seven and in love once again.