My Love Story
My childhood and teenage years were filled with books and dreams; I was always immersed in Enid Blyton till the age of 10. After that I matured into Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys and so on. I read more than 300 Enid Blyton books and she enthralled me completely. I found her the queen of words. I always dreamt about sitting on a boat engrossed deeply in a book being in the midst of beautiful and exquisite nature surrounded with lush and vibrant greenery, pretty flowers of all shades with the blue skies above. My boat would be merrily taking me on an ethereal ride across the blue waters aimlessly to the land of far beyond. I believed in angels, fairies, lovely positive energies and vibes.
When I was 14, a relative bought for me a beautiful pink scarf from abroad printed with the tiniest hearts, incidentally it was my favourite colour, the colour of love. I treasured it, it was priceless for me; I stored it in a sealed plastic packet in my wardrobe. So along with the prized possession of my books, the scarf was also added to the treasure. Just as my books were always faithful to me, similarly the scarf was, too. Whenever I wanted to feel love within, I caressed the scarf lovingly; its tender soft fabric returned love immediately.
When I was 16, I fell in love, and then music also found a way into my life. ‘Love Story’ was the most beautiful melody which I loved to hear again and again especially after falling in love. He was a shy boy and we just smiled at each other, we never spoke. I used to wear my scarf, take a book in my hand and sat in my balcony curled up with happiness on a lounge chair. He looked at me from his house which was just across mine. Our eyes used to meet and then I would play the soulful melody of ‘Love Story’ to create a deeper ambience of love; then he smiled more.
This went on for one whole year; obviously there was no time for studies for both of us. In a fit of rage, my parents decided to send me to a hostel so that I could concentrate on more productive things. I was heartbroken, cried all day and my pillow was a testimony to this. Then I took a red pen and wrote ‘I love you’ along with two hearts on my beloved scarf and sent it across to him accompanied with my book and CD of ‘Love Story’ for a greater impact. I was obviously so deeply in love to have parted with my heart and soul; book as well as scarf.
After going to the hostel, I never saw him again, probably he shifted to another abode, only his memories remained, but I was glad that my symbols of love were with him forever!
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