The boy next door

Traipsing all over a crowded mall isn’t exactly my idea of ‘chilling out’ or having fun. But my friend demanded it and so I was dragged to one of the most hideous places a human can imagine. Bawling babies. Kids running around, tripping people and then looking innocent about it. Fat women and smelly men elbowing all the pretty girls. A weekend at the mall. Everybody’s favourite mall. I gritted my teeth and snarled at everyone I came in eye contact with.

What’s worse is, I realised my friend was trying to set me up with one of her best guy friends. One I definitely had my doubts about. We went for a dismal movie together, the three of us. The air-conditioned theatre and butter popcorn soothed my nerves a bit, though screeching cell phones and bawling babies were evidently present in there as well.

It was after the movie, when I was ready to flee home, when she introduced me to Anish. An ordinary, normal boy who seemed to have no interest in hitting on me whatsoever. I liked him immediately. Maybe the other guy [Bharath, right, that was his name] seemed to notice, because he didn’t seem to like me much. Though he dropped me home and got my number, he never made a move. For which I shall remain extremely glad. As it turned out he’s more into empty-headed, big-breasted girls. Or at least empty-headed girls completely enamoured with him.

Anish messaged me a few days later, after I had almost forgotten about him. Between running errands for my mother and snake of a boss I was nearly losing my mind. And he stepped in. Nothing knight-in-shining-armour about it, though he did provide some relief along the way.

I admit… I’m a solitary creature. Having never been in a relationship, [No, never. Ever.] I’m slightly difficult to woo, let alone date. That’s probably why I didn’t get along with Bharath in the first place. He had been in relationships non-stop since the 8^th grade. And he was just looking for another girl to step into the shoes of the earlier one he had dumped. A scary thought. Imagine going through 90 per cent of your life, never being alone, always having someone ask you where you were, who you were with… you catch my drift I suppose. I’m scared of relationships. Petrified.

Which is why when Anish and I really hit it off, I disappeared off the radar for a few weeks. Apparently the boy was smart though. He gave me time and space, and soon I had stopped freaking out long enough to get to know him better.

Before I knew it he had to return to Goa. Yes, Goa. I mean who lives and works in the land of beaches and bikini-clad women anyway. Anish apparently. The first boy I’m slightly interested in and he whizzes off to Goa.

We lost touch. I don’t know why exactly. I got preoccupied with shifting jobs and house. It was nearly three years before I met him again. Déjà vu.. it was another instance of me just dying to get home but forcing myself to get out and socialise a bit. Because then I was in the middle of ending my first relationship. Which went horribly, mind you. Not a good time for him to re-appear in the scene. But he did, effortlessly. It went something like this.

A: You remember me don’t you?

Me: Of course I do. Weren’t we supposed to keep in touch? *smiling*

A: Yes… I’m sorry, I guess we both got busy. So how are you?

Me: I’m fine, just fine. How are you? Still in Goa?

A: No, in Delhi now. Goa was just a stopgap. And no, really. How are you?

Me: *confused look* Er.. I’m fine, Anish. Why do you ask?

A: You look…. Different.

Me: Yes, it’s been almost three years!

A: No, it’s not that. It’s… I don’t know. You look tired. Worn out. Fed up.

Me: *long silence* Oh. Ok. Guess I’m working too hard.

A: Hmm. If I remember right, you always worked hard. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be you. So I’m sure it’s something else. Anyhow, I hope you get over it soon. It’s not worth it.

And then I remembered the rest of the world standing there wondering why we were talking in hushed tones. We returned to socialising. Though I couldn’t manage it too well, with all the thoughts running through my head.

It was Zayed. The older man I was stupid enough to get involved with. He kept me up at night, made me cry most of the time I was alone. My first relationship. I remember my grandmother’s advice on men… Never compromise on your self-respect with men. Never compromise. Period. You’ll never stop. I’m sure she was disappointed when I did the opposite of what she told me. I can’t begin to tell you how much he hurt me, in how many ways I compromised myself, how he took advantage of me. And to think I presumed I was smart enough not to end up like my girlfriends, who always cried to me about their horrible boyfriends.

What Anish said didn’t keep me up that night. In fact, he helped me sleep. I slept so well for the next few days, that I called him in Delhi and said thank you. That took me four hours. I didn’t tell him much about Zayed. Didn’t even tell Anish his name. I just remember telling him I had gotten hurt. He didn’t ask me any questions. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I got so close to him. Because unlike most men, he never demanded anything from he. He was just… there. I don’t know if I fell in love with him that night, or if it was much later. We didn’t even think about getting into a relationship at first. It took me time to heal. But it would have taken me longer if Anish had not been there.

He’s not extraordinary. Very ordinary, in fact. I love how ordinary he is. Sometimes, the very opposite of me. Cool, always smiling, happy… a breath of fresh air. I hate charming men. Ever since Zayed. Charming, seemingly mysterious and enigmatic, intelligent men with smouldering looks that can melt you half-way across a room. It’s all bullshit. My Prince Charming isn’t even a prince. He’s the boy next door. No smouldering eyes, no smooth poetry and intelligent talk, no making love morning to night… at least not from day one. He’s still my knight-in-shining-armour. After all, who said the knights have to be kings… they’re probably ordinary boys-next-door as well.

So see.. what you see is never what you get. And that’s how I met your dad. In a crowded mall, on a weekend. And again in the middle of a boring get together. The last places I wanted to be.

This is for J and L. For all the times they've dragged me out when I've wanted to stay home. I hope you find your knights in shining armour.