She had always loved him secretly, ever since he first came to her place with his sister, who soon became the best friend of her sister. He was a typical 80’s boy, polka shirts, bell-bottoms, and long hair. She was particularly crazy about his long hair. She still remembers how happy she was when she got into the city college to do her inter; she knew he was in the second year.
One day, and she remembered that day clearly, she bumped into him while going to college. It looked like a typical scene from a Rajesh Khanna movie. She took a wild turn at the end of the street, she was in hurry because she was late for her college, and you wouldn’t want to miss your college bus when it is the only time you saw your crush. That is when she hit his cycle. It hurt as she fell but everything went dreamy once she heard his voice; apologizing, but sweet.
Thinking of that day still left a smile on her face. He gave her his hand to get up. He apologized and asked her if she was okay. She obviously was, now that he had held her hand for the first time.
He went ahead and she too decided to take a leave today. What was the point? She knew that he was not going to the college; without him, it would just be some boring lectures and she was never the studious type.
She reached home and saw his cycle there. He didn’t tell her that he was coming to her place. Maybe she could have got the ride she always dreamed of. He had got new shining rear-view mirrors attached to the handle, a new craze in those days. Green, she remembers, was the color of the ribbons he had on his handles. Funny enough, she usually wore green ribbons on her side plaits. She shyly gave herself a flick on the forehead for fishing for destiny’s play in her one-sided love story.
She went inside and saw him sitting with her father. He had brought a box of sweets; he told her father that he had cleared the SSC examination and was selected for a government job. He was looking at her while giving the news, beaming with happiness she thought.
She was happy too, for him, for his success; but it meant that he would have to leave the city. This broke her heart.
She was sitting alone in her room, by the window, looking at the road that led to Delhi, the cruel city that was going to take her love away from her. Her eyes were welled up with tears; that was when she heard her father coming in. His cane was always a fore signal of him coming. It was necessary in a house of four young daughters, he used to say, to give some kind of a signal before entering the room. She sat up straight and draped her dupatta. Her father came in and gave her the happiest news of her life, looking the happiest he ever looked, and making her happiest she would ever be.
He had asked for her hand that day. He wanted to marry her. She ran off to another room but before that, she looked at her father, who read her “yes” through her smile and the shine in those tears that brimmed her eyes.
They were married by the end of that month. He didn’t take a single penny in the wedding, telling everyone that he had got what he always wanted. That was when she came to know that he always loved her, ever since he used to come to her place with his sister. That he loved her ribbon-clad plaits, and the green ribbons on his cycle were not a coincidence.
She was happy, she truly was. And she vowed to make him the happiest man on earth.
Up above somewhere, Destiny was smiling, for her mission was accomplished.
Image Source: pixabay.com