he was uncertain, not knowing what his feelings were, why he kept crossing half of delhi every sunday to meet her, when she was only amongst the many friends he had, and that too keeping the dearest of those friends waiting. she, on the other hand was trying to come out of a relationship which had ended months ago. he doesn’t remember that first touch, the first embrace or the first kiss. (confused during those days and floating above the clouds afterwards.) she remembers the details, each and every one.
the girl-woman knew she was falling in love with this boy-man. he? nothing. but love was to come later. not much, but later.
‘cos when he looks back at the 15th of October, 2006, all he remembers is the dusty stretch of the back road, where they sat and played criss-cross with wooden twigs on ground as the workbook. and yes, with the she-dog for the company. and oh, there were yellow butterflies too, which he didn’t mention last year.
she looks back and remembers the clothes they were wearing; his first touch on her shoulder, which jolted her and conveyed more than a friend’s would; the sudden hug she gave him while leaving & wondering how proper it was and also that why this idiot didn’t reciprocate the gesture & stood like an armyman, stiff in attention!
and, when many more years have flown by, when they again revisit these memories, they’ll again smile their two different smiles; she, still the most resplendent ever and he, his tired, sarcastic smile.