Ready Or Not

What options did I have? I could have stayed in bed rolled under the sheets as February cold was still biting with its fangs bare in dry north wind. Or, I could have woken up before the sun, lurked in the hazy darkness, crept up behind the shrub in front of my window – like a thief in shadows in his own garden and plucked its only budding bloom!

 Calling it a garden could be an overstatement but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and of course the artist who created it. In this case, it was my grandma who was oddly attached to her five or six shrubs forming the boundary of our concrete walls that she proudly hailed and proclaimed as a ‘garden’.

If the only blooming rose of her plot were to go missing in the morning of February the 14th, grandma might not have gone full tilt 007 mode but there would definitely have been some squinted eyes and slanted, questioning looks directed towards not just me but a number of people. But chances were high that she wouldn’t know what day it was – besides, the previous blossoms had all withered away while still attached to the plant.

But did I have the courage to give it to the one I so badly wanted to? You might think, “What are ya talking about – it’s not that hard“ or “Grow a pair of balls will ya?”-A sixteen year old is in the process of growing them to be honest and it might be perfectly normal for a teenage boy to ask a girl out or vice-versa in other countries where parents give a high-five for achieving such a feat (forgive my stereotyping but that’s exactly what movies show!), in our society however, it was very close to a taboo – unless you have the means to rebel against your elders, take all the admonition and reproach and in many cases elope – it was a slippery slope that I’d rather stay away from. For, I didn’t have anything - not the looks or the charms and definitely not the means. 

So it proved to be a real dilemma – should I go on a romantic endeavour which was most likely going to be a disaster or should I sublimate that hormonal energy and become someone first? Could I have even done either?

Contemplating all these was taking a while and my window of secretly confiscating the aforementioned flower was closing. So the sun was already out when I decided to make a run for it. I crept up behind shrub in front of my window, looked side to side to make sure the coast was clear and quickly pinched at the peduncle navigating the thorns and then plucked the rose and hid it inside my sleeves. There was no going back now.

I went inside my room and stood beside the door for a while holding the rose close to my chest. The timing for this bloom could not have been any better and it was literally of the perfect size, shape and colour and fragrance too. 

There was no uproar as the calm drowsy air continued. Grandma was most likely asleep while I covered the stem of the rose with a foil and ribbon as best I could manage and then gently put it inside the safest compartment of my backpack.

If you think I was obsessing too much over a simple flower which I could buy from a florist or better yet – a bouquet - - let me tell you that I was dumb broke as most students are and roses didn’t go cheap and I didn’t even know a shop that regularly sold roses in our suburb anyway!

But the cupids weren’t nice on me. They had to cross my path with this girl who had those enigmatic eyes, an ineffable smile and the sweetest of voices. ‘Oh what I wouldn’t give to become the reason for that smile!' A rose? A card? A letter? Chocolates? I still wasn’t sure. I ended up buying the best chocolate I could with whatever was remaining on my nominally existing pocket money.

As you can figure by now, I didn’t have the nerves to knock on her door. I certainly wasn’t not going to throw a crumpled note to her balcony (seriously, who does that?) and it wasn’t the era of SMSs and emails yet. So my plan was to intercept her on her way to school that day.

Yes, we went to different schools. Co-ed schools were few and far between and it was the for the best interest of everyone involved that boys went to boys’ schools and girls went to girls’ – yet another opaque veil of ignorance cast between the two genders of adolescents. Therefore private tuitions were where we would find each other’s romance. But then again starting a conversation without being flagrantly obvious in your ulterior motives was a challenge in itself. You’d think that at least the tutors would play the love-makers? But no! They wouldn’t even mind their own businesses and let things slide. As soon as they got a sniff of any brewing romance under their noses they’d let the poor ones’ parents know - - you know how vulnerable you are when you try to catch a glimpse of your crush when you think no one is watching but someone is and your oxytocin and dopamine levels betray you!

‘What if I end up telling her how I feel and she leaves me hanging and then everyone knows?’ – the thought crossed my mind as I slowed down on my bicycle en route to the bus stand where she used to board the 21b and ride two stops to her school. How would my parents have reacted to find out that their studious son was now chasing after a girl like another delinquent!

But it was too late for such thoughts. The crime was already committed and I’d rather destroy the evidence before the verdict was out.

I reached the bus stop, detached myself from stream of rush-hour traffic feeling all bubbly inside. The sun had started to feel hotter now targeting its cruel gaze on me as I propped up beside the waiting area and started to scan faces. She wasn’t there yet – Just as thought.

I waited patiently, subtly focussing on all incoming faces from the opposite side of the road. I was hoping she’d be alone or that her friends would give us privacy when I approached her. But what if her mother was with her! I thought about turning back – yet again – but I was like a dying duck in a thunderstorm at that point – at any moment I could have met my end!

But I didn’t. The busy traffic teetered away to an occasional honk and whoosh. The butterflies in my stomach for an impending calamity had settled down and I was left with a dry lump in my throat where I could feel my heart beat just a few moments ago.

There was no way I had missed her board the bus. Was she sick? At home? I checked my backpack – the rose and the chocolate still neatly tucked inside. After a while I found myself slowly pedalling towards her alley.

If you are feeling pity for me – Don’t. Or if you think, ‘come on now, don’t you have school of your own?’-I did have school that day. But Duck classes for a day! It was a such a huge moment in my life – so much could have changed if she said ‘yes’ – I couldn’t care less about a day’s worth of classes!

I was closing down on her building by now. The very thought of our proximity reignited the giddy optimism in me. She just might be there past the corner. Or just a little ahead. In her lawn perhaps? Or I could just knock! But what if she’s ill and starts hating me for being so pushy! Don’t tell me she already did for some odd reason!

But there was no going back after coming that far – not after being already subjected to polite yet questioning eyes from her neighbours. I stopped my bicycle in front of her gate. I was this close. I had never been that close! I just had to open the gate, knock on the door and brace myself for touchdown. Instead I found myself pedalling, as fast as I could, away from her vicinity, away from where I wanted to be!

I was too distraught to know where I was going. But the traffic was gentler and so was the breeze and the sun. I ended up inside the waiting room of the same bus stand wallowing in my own self pity. I had taken out my prized chocolate and started eating. When I was finished I sat there, immobile, for no particular reason.

A bus had honked, screeched and stopped. But it didn’t bother me. Someone had come up inside and sat beside me. But why would I care? When I frivolously tilted my head, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! I’m not lying or being overly dramatic – she was actually there! In all her grandeur. In her neatly kept school uniform – exuding all her brilliance in her aura. In contrast, I had a half crumpled rose in my possession. The chocolate was gone – only the wrapper lying somewhere close by. My outfit was that of a slob now. My cheap deodorant had dried down leaving a tangy smell. But my soul – it was reinvigorated. And my heart seemed like it couldn’t keep up any longer.

Looking at me she said in her delicate husky voice adjusting her forehead locks for a second, “Didn’t you have school today?”

“I did. No. I didn’t... I mean I wanted to but didn’t go.. Why are you here at this hour?”, I said, sounding almost robotic.

“Science teacher didn’t show up today – got off early. Don’t worry, I will be on my way soon enough.”, that voice again! – setting off all sorts of bubbling reactions inside me. But I didn’t want her to go. We could just sit on this bench like that- forever.

Usually she got off the bus and walked home (No, I was not a stalker for God’s sake!). Why did she come inside the waiting area then? I couldn’t ask her that! Don’t tell me she was waiting for someone else. Did someone actually beat me to her?

As I re-gathered myself I felt the lump forming in my throat once again. I could feel my heart throb in my mouth, hands, kidneys, lungs-everywhere. I felt my window of opportunity – my last shot at redemption closing. It was ‘now or never’. I was ready. Ready to tell her how I was frantically looking for her for the past three to four hours – that I even went to her house! But that would have sounded pathetic and weird... ‘When did you pass through here?’... ‘Why my wanting eyes couldn’t spot you?’.. But I knew I had to ask something else.

“You know what, I have to tell you something” I said with one hand inside my bag by now where I could feel the nearly flattened rose petals.

“Okay?!” (God, that voice!)

Down I went on my knees, thudding against the concrete floor – like an indigent with a parsimonious semblance of a rose held out with all the pusillanimity in the world warped on my face as I tried to look at her – to witness my hopes crumble, “Will you be my Valentine?” But she shined so brightly I could have gone blind. I had to look away!

I braced myself for the impact. I knew what was coming. I had seen it all on TV – mince matters – cold shoulder – outright smack- bring it on!

Instead, I felt my hands lighten. She had taken ‘the rose’.

“Just like that? Out of the blue? You don’t even talk to me at tuition classes”, she paused and I could have died right then and there – a happy man. “But I think I will take you up on it this time. My parents don’t expect me to be back for another 3 hours or so. What do you wanna do?”

You see, I was prepared for the worst. I had run countless permutations and combinations of ways she’d turn me down – but not this outcome. I was at a loss.

“Wanna go see a movie?” in a trembling voice- still unsure if indeed it was the reality – was the best I could manage.

“Okay, I can get the tickets “, thank goodness on so many levels!

Now it’s not ‘happily ever after’ but that’s a different story for another day. In case you are wondering, my grandma did know what occasion 14th Feb brought. Later I heard her say to my aunt, “What do they call it? Balentine’s day? Na? Whoever stole it must have given my rose to his or her significant other” hahaha—lucky you grandma – at least it found a fitting end - as I accepted her humour and humility.