Crumbled notes

Most people don't talk about love stories. At least not about their own. There is something so hypocritical about our society that makes love, a beautiful thing otherwise, sinful and wrong. World wonders have been made, epics have been written and nations have fought all for this divine feeling of love. We all have wished to be in love; to love and to be loved at the same time. And yet when we see two people in love, we are in a hurry to judge.

Does love have to be mature? Can only scarred hearts and old minds understand the complexities of love?

I have never understood people who say they'd rather be alone and happy than being in love and sad. What sadness are they referring to? Is it the pain of being so close and yet feeling the need to be closer? Is it the pain of saying a thousand words only to realize you have said nothing at all?

Or is it the pain of losing your love? Oh! That's true pain indeed. I know the pain. It's been years but the memories still dig a hole deep in my heart.

I met Anna when I was in the second grade. I don't remember what I thought of her then. For that matter I don't remember what I thought about anything then. But I do know that I thought about her a lot. Every day my pre sleep dream consisted of myself, Melvin, Anna, Mary and Mrs. Gonsalvez. I don't remember why I had so many characters in my dream instead of just Anna and me. Well, I guess Mary was there because I had a small crush on her too. But then those were the years when I didn't know about the rules and morality of love. My little heart was big enough to accomodate two lovely girls. Two girls on whom, all the boys in my class had a crush. But then Anna was my true love and Mary was just a distraction.

I don't remember much of what happened through my second and third grades. Those were the days when first rank and appreciating comments from teachers were more exciting than love itself. But then fourth grade was different. That was our final year in Little Flower convent after which the boys went to Trinity Lyceum boys school while the girls went to various reputed girls schools int he town.

We had started exchanging little notes by then. I was the one who started it. One day while Mrs. Gonsalvez was writing the exercises on the board I wrote something on a piece of paper, crumbled it and threw it to Anna who was sitting to my right at the other end of the bench. I don't know what I thought while writing it. But the moment I threw the crumbled bit my heart was filled with mortifying fear. What if Mrs. Gonsalvez saw me throwing that piece of paper? What if Anna complained? What if someone else complained? My little heart beat twice its normal speed and had Anna not responded the way she did, it probably would have stopped beating. Anna picked up the crumbled piece of paper, opened it and read it silently for a moment. Ladies and gentlemen, I have seen many beautiful smiles in my life. But believe me when I say, that was one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen. And all I had written was "Hi Anna".

Anna did not write anything back. She did not throw back a reply that full day. But the next day while Mrs. Gonsalvez was leaving after the first hour, a paper ball hit me. It was a crumbled piece of paper. I looked at Anna. Anna stood at the other side of the bench with her head down and a shy smile on her lips. I don't remember what I expected out of that crumbled piece of paper. But I did unwrap it fast. Inside it were written three words
"Hiiiiiiiiiii Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii"

Ah! The joy I felt that day. That night Mrs. Gonsalvez and Melvin were conspicuous by their absence in my nightly pre sleep dream.

The exchange of notes continued with the contents remaining more or less the same. I had seen, at the time, movies in which the hero proposed the heroine through a love letter. Maybe it was those movies but one day while making the crumbled notes ,an idea hit me. I decided it was time to write something more significant. Something that would fit the stature of a nine year old boy in love. I decided to write the most revered three words in the whole damn world. I wrote "I love you" on a piece of paper, crushed it and threw it to Anna.

Unfortunately on its way, the paper ball decided to change its route and hit Mrs. Gonsalvez instead. And to think that it had to wait all these days to take the detour. Mrs. Gonsalvez turned back suddenly and saw the culprit. She picked up the piece of paper and walked towards me. For a moment, the ground beneath me crumbled. I had the vision of a white light with my parents standing at the other end of the tunnel. And then Mrs. Gonsalvez shouted.

"Joseph, what are you doing?"

I didn't reply.

"Is this how the class leader is supposed to behave? Throw paper balls at teachers? Go kneel down outside the class!"

At that moment, all my prayers were focussed on one thing- that Mrs. Gonsalvez do not open the paper ball. I guess my guardian angel did hear my prayer after all. Mrs. Gonsalvez threw the paper ball in the dust bin, looked at me with a hint of disgust in her eyes and walked away. I thanked God, my guardian angel and all those names my little brain knew.

At the end of the day, Anna walked to the dust bin, picked up the crumbled piece of paper from the dust bin, put it in her bag and left.

Anna stopped throwing the paper balls from the next day. But she started smiling at me whenever the teacher turned her back on the class. I was apprehensive that Anna would complain to her parents or to Mrs. Gonsalvez. But her smile told me that everything was ok. In fact, I guess it told me she liked me too. Those were lovely days.

It is strange how you think when you are small. I didn't know what else to do once the biggest task of conveying my love had been accomplished. We smiled our way through the fourth grade and soon it was the final exams. I had a reputation to live upto and it would be fair to say that Anna skipped my mind for two weeks. At the end of the two weeks came our last day as a class. Most students had tears in their eyes. Many cried. I thought it was foolsih for big boys and girls to cry like that. But I was sad too. I had glanced at Anna twice and she had not smiled back.

The final day ended soon. It was time to part. I said goodbye to everyone except Anna. We who had talked and laughed through three years, exchanged notes and love, couldn't find enough words to say goodbye. Worse, I didn't know her phone number nor the school which she was going to attend.

I remember the agony and pain of those final moments while I waited outside for the school bus. Anna was picked up by her father everyday and she was waiting outside too. We stood side by side, without uttering a single word. I remember a storm brewing inside my little mind. I was caught between the agonising pain of wanting to say a few final words and the torment of not knowing what to say or how to say it. I wished she would walk upto me and say something. But then probably she wished the same too.

In the end, her father came and she left. She did not turn back or wave a final goodbye. And that was it. Gone forever.

I tried in vain to know her whereabouts, from my numerous other friends. But just like the boys of my age nobody knew a thing about girls. And then slowly, like all good things, Anna and her memories faded away into oblivion.

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In my later years, especially while in college, I ran through social networking sites like Orkut and Facebook. I found Mary, Melvin and even Mrs. Gonsalvez but not Anna. I enquired about Anna to Mary and Melvin (they did remember me alright) but Anna had vanished.

Probably Anna is living happily with a man who loves her more than himself. Probably she too, like me, is living in the memories of a beautiful childish romance. Or probably she doesn't remember me at all.

But whatever the case, I believe love is for everyone and for every age. And however cliched this sounds, it's better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.

Lovingly,
Joseph

PS: Based on a true life story