Today I share a story that I wrote a couple of years back.Please share an honest opinion whether I can write stories or not? I like it and still don’t like it.
Now why would anyone be interested in my love story? Well! For the simple reason that it is the most unique love story you’ve ever known. My aunt Nalini has found her fifth love recently and each of her love stories are unique in their own way. May she script many more stories of love, she’s just 58 after all. Coming back to my story, our love was ‘the love at first sight’ kind of love.
I was born in a family of educators. My father was a professor in university, mother a teacher. My grandfather had retired as the Principal of the very school he was admitted to as a student. So when I was three months old a set of things were brought to me, a book, a 100/- rupees note and an anklet. I plunged for the book and there was great joy and it was foretold that I would follow my family’s tradition.
Books were my first love, my life. I read them all the time. I lived and breathed them and was a good student and my teacher’s pet, owing to my love for books. My senior secondary school result made my parents proud and I got admission in the best college. The life in college was alien to me. There was no connect either with the faculty or the other students. I felt lonely and tried to find solace in my books but it seems that the whole world conspired to snatch my love away.
I couldn’t understand the written word. The very books I loved deeply started feeling unfamiliar. Slowly we started distancing away from each other. It appeared as if we never had anything between us by the time I reached my final year in college. My parents were upset, I was ridiculed and just scraped through my graduation. I totally broke up with my first love by the time I left college. It was as if I never had a thing for books.
I didn’t think I would ever fall in love again. I know, everyone says that after a heartbreak, but the difference is that I was not heartbroken. I’m not cynical, or pessimistic. I was just someone who once felt something bigger than anything else I’d ever felt and when I lost it, I honestly believed I would never have that again. But… I was 21 then and life is long. And then I started feeling things that I had not in a long, long time.
I started feeling a strong connect, a bond, a new love blooming inside me. I found a new surge of energy because of the colours in my life. They are my new love. What started as a one off incidence has given me back that feeling of belonging. I’m talking about colours, all types of them. Crayons, pencils, oil paints, acrylic and what not. I’m deeply and passionately in love with colours now. Feeling bored one day I just doodled something in my notebook and put it on Facebook. Sure I was looking for some gratification but never expected to get the kind of appreciation that I got. My doodles got me the recognition that I was longing for after my breakup with the books. My colours are better at expressing what I feel, they understand me and speak for me. My colours are my life now and I’m very happy with them. I have regular work as a doodle artist and I’m well known in my circles for my relationship with colours.
It is said that love is transient, may be rightly so. I was hurt when books and I drifted away. I was sure I’ll never look beyond colours, after I found them. But here I am and there’s something that seems to be interesting to get involved with. I am talking about the pen gifted to me by my friend. It takes over me, every time I touch it, hold it. It pulls me towards it with the intensity that I’ve never felt before and makes me explore and express myself in a new way. Is it a new love or the first love beckoning me again? Nalini Aunty used to call me a die-hard romantic when I was a child. May be she’s right and who knows I might have taken after her, instead of my very learned family.