The Love That Never Was (part I)

 Qayoom Shiekh

I entered the campus with a modest thought. Knowing that learned and intelligentsia people would come my way, I had planned myself accordingly. My dressing was smart. In college days, my favorites were jeans, but with my selection in the highest seat of learning, I approached local tailor with a pair of formal suiting, that relatives would bring whenever I climbed life’s extra rungs. That time it irritated me, thinking that they will only go to rats in wardrobes. However, this time I found them quite useful.

I left home, my first day for University, called a friend, so close to my heart where to locate her. 

We had been close friends in college days. Ours was a strange kind of friendship; sometimes we shared our personal things too, but only under the shade of belief and mutual respect.

                      

For some time, after making my entry in to campus, a village boy that I am, stood alone in the crowd. I saw few people being formal like me. The life seemed different in Urban Kashmir.

I lowered my gaze.You know in villages, we have an impression to protect your eyes. I was not too religious, but I preferred to go with the line of village life. 

My classmates were all strangers for me. In first few days at department a less interaction occurred. The girls, in being smart were doing everything to outshine boys. However, I tell you truth that it was the first time that I had seen autumn has befallen in the department. None of the girls attracted. We, the boys group would later discuss how our department never gets ‘good-looking girls’.

Nonetheless, there were others girls in the University, a good number and we took pleasure in that after a disappointment in the department. That is why we could always find our boys-batch-mates wandering in other departments. Some would even spend whole day to get a glimpse of girl they admired.

My attraction was quite different. While my friends would hunt for ‘stylish and modern-looking girls’, I looked for veiled girls. To me, beauty was the veil and real beauty was hidden there somewhere, which none has seen. This way days passed and we as a batch began going intimate, not physically, but in our relation.

After spending whole day in gossips with friends where girls always remained priority talk, I would always left for hostel alone. This time life appeared so boring walking alone in the busiest University roads. I would often see boys and girls hiding under evergreen trees in the charismatic university grasslands. It would give me a feeling that if only I am alone in this ghostly world. Remember, I was still single.

I stood alone in the formal dress, though it made my batch mates to respect me and they would do it by heart. That is why it turned out to be greatest friends’ batch, later. My mates were very much flamboyant and they would feel comfortable with girls and resort to double-meaning talk often. I had always tried to maintain balance with the girls. I had never shook hands with them. Sometimes I would say to my mates after girls were not there how they are more open with girls and shook hands. However, this is how life is, I understood later.

The lectures in the class in the initial days were boring. However, I stood there; this is what giving impression to some boastful educators that we are very much interested in your boasting.

The charm of being admitted in university began losing its shine. We a group of wayfarers began cursing ourselves after learning more and more about Journalism, which we had opted for. We would often pass time under the shade of majestic chinar trees in the campus and narrate stories of haplessness. The only respite came when someone would strike girls somewhere, and we had some great people who could go to any extent in matters pertaining to girls’ world.

In University of cafeterias, that is what our university is often accused of, we feared to enter in ‘big-big cafeterias’, instead our preferred destination was Bash-Kak hotel, a dhoka like canteen which offered cheap samosas and tea. 

Once a girl, a burka clad that I often admired was sitting in the lawn of our department. She was young and beautiful. I just liked her innocent looks. She spoke softly, so my heart softened for her. I began loving her. I was doing everything to make her to notice me. I could only see her in the one-hour lunch break. She was full of love. She had a faded smile on her face. Her eyes had a tale to narrate. One day I decided to express my love.

..............to be continued in the next part.......