Actually, I've liked her from the beginning, but I don't even know when that liking turned into love. When we were in 6th or 7th grade, I used to ask her to make the front page of my project files. It's not that I didn't know how to do it myself, I just wanted it made by her hands.
Then we moved to 8th grade, and these feelings kept getting stronger. I started to really like her. I would sit at the back of the class just to look at her. Once, I even told her that I would call her. She got angry and said if I called, she'd tell a teacher. And I just stood there staring at her, speechless.
One day in 8th grade, she and her friend told the teacher that some boys in class were troubling them — and she took my name, saying that I call her, even though I hadn't actually called her yet. I couldn't stop laughing while trying to explain to the teacher, but the teacher didn't listen and hit me with a stick four times. After getting me beaten, she was teasing me too.
This was around the end of January — one day we made a plan to go to Etah, where there's a winter fair. I had just learned how to ride a bike. Anurag and I set out, picked up Kamalkant from Vasundhara, and headed toward Etah. On the way there, everything was fine. We stopped at a canal bridge, then continued.
While returning, a tractor driver started honking. He kept honking for a while, but I didn't pay attention. When he got really close, he shouted, "Hey! Do you have a death wish? Can't you move your bike aside?" Saying that, he passed by us very closely. That's when I felt scared — it was my first real sense of what an accident could be.
Later, we reached Vasundhara again, and Kamalkant said, "Let's go meet Vishal," so we went to his house. We stayed there for about 15 minutes and then started heading back. It was getting dark, so I began riding faster. There was a curved turn, and I didn't reduce the speed. As we approached the curve, the bike almost went out of control — I don't even know how we survived, otherwise, all three of us would've fallen into the ditch by the side. That day, we narrowly escaped death twice — it was quite an adventure.
Once, back in 6th or 7th grade, I had gone to Kamalkant's house on my bicycle for a project. There's a unique kind of joy in going alone that far — it feels special.
During the summer vacations of 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, I used to help at the shop. When a DTH or dish set-top box broke down, I would replace its power supply. Or if someone's dish signal was weak, I would fix it — drilling and fitting the dish antenna. I really enjoyed doing all these things. No one ever asked me to do it — I just liked it myself. And along with that, I would get paid too.
Once, I got into trouble. I had to go to a village 6 km away from Awagarh to fix a dish, and it took quite a while. Evening was falling, and I had nothing with me. If I didn't find anything, I would've had to walk back on foot. At the Gadsara bridge, I met some people and explained everything — gave my dad's and our shop's name. Turned out, they knew us, so they helped me get back. Otherwise, I don't know how I would've returned. I was scared also because I hadn't informed my father. He never allowed me to go outside Awagarh, especially after noon. But thanks to those people, I came back safely.
Gradually, the final term of 8th grade arrived. I was taking tuition from Awadhesh Sir then. He told me, "Whatever way you've studied till now is fine, but now it's the final term of 8th grade, and this math will be the foundation for everything ahead. Now you should get serious." Somehow, his words sank into my mind. After that, I started focusing a bit more on studies.
On November 14th, we had our Sports Day. I was in the Red House. We were playing Kabaddi, and she was watching from above. When I looked at her, she said "All the best." I felt really good. Of course, we were playing to win — but now I had to win at any cost. In the heat of the moment, I kicked one boy during a raid, and he was out. Then I did 4 or 5 raids in a row because one of our good players had gotten out. In the end, we won easily. When we came back to the classroom, she was already there — her back facing me.
When we entered 9th grade, I started studying seriously from the very beginning — something I had never done before. I had an interest in science, and our principal used to teach that subject. He noticed something in me, and that's where things started to change. On one hand, I was getting more and more interested in science… and on the other, my feelings for her kept getting deeper.
I started enjoying looking back at her again and again. I would find one excuse or another to look at her — sometimes pretending to take out a book, sometimes picking up a pen, sometimes this, sometimes that. No matter what, I just wanted to see her. And if our eyes met, I would quickly look away. Watching her from a corner, silently… that feeling is so sweet — to just look at her as much as I could. Now, thinking about it brings a smile to my face.
This kind of feeling happens only once in life — at least for me. I don't think it's possible again with anyone else. Maybe flirtation can happen again, but not love. Love happens only once — even if you never end up with that person, they will always stay in your heart.
There's always a special place.
I don't think love means to possess someone.
I tried writing a few lines on this thought:
**"I accept everything about you,
Every intoxication of yours delights me.
Even your anger feels like love,
I find divine light in your silence.
Even your indifference is now acceptable,
Your stubbornness feels like pride to me.
You're perfect just the way you are,
Your mere presence completes everything."**
In our class, there was a girl named Shivani. She always came first or second and was very intelligent. She took private tu tions from the principal and came to school by bicycle.
On Awadhesh Sir's suggestion, I joined tuition with Naveen Sir. That's when I spoke with Shivani. During one of our chats, she told me, "She was asking about you." I said, "Really?" I couldn't believe it.
Around that time, I became friends with Mudit, Prakhar, and Akash. Earlier we were just classmates, since they were the so-called "good kids" of the class, while I used to be the one topping from the back.
Then we started hanging out together — sometimes visiting the Jain temple, sometimes the Radha-Krishna temple.
A few days later, Shivani told me that Naveen Sir had said, "You've improved a lot." I thought she was just saying it casually, but it still felt nice.
Then came the summer holidays of 9th grade. I began missing her.
One day I thought — let's walk toward the school, just for a stroll.
So the next morning at 5 AM, I left to wander. As I walked, I reached Akrabad — her village was nearby.
While returning, I took my bicycle down the road leading to her village, even though I didn't know which house was hers. It must've taken me about 35 to 40 minutes to get back.
But whatever it was, the feeling was wonderfu
l — that passion, that emotion… it was all so beautiful.