And, the valentine week is here. You know, the week where each day you have to do something to prove your love for the special one? Well, here is how I have experienced these seven days through the twenty-four years of my life…
While celebrating rose day in school, everyone had to give a yellow rose to their best friend (or, friends in my case). The one with the red rose was something that happened only in Salman Khan-movies, not in the corridors of a small town-all girls’ school.
In my grad school, when a rose day was actually celebrated (yes, the one with red roses), I ended offering it to the friend of a guy I had a crush on. *shy smile*
“Why would H even care about me? He is like the hottest guy in college and I am a nobody,” I thought.
On the same day, next year, I got a yellow rose, not a red one, from a batch-mate. I was at the top of the class, so, he thought I wouldn’t care about him, I would think that he is a nobody.
While in school, I spent the whole day thinking whether my crush would propose to me. After all, I had done his homework throughout the year. *pathetic*
He did not, obviously. He just liked having someone around who would do almost anything he said.
Five years later, I got into a relationship around the same time of the year. The weirdest thing was, neither of us proposed to each other. I had a crush on him, asked him out for dinner, kept hanging out every day – he just assumed we were in a relationship. I never bothered to correct him for almost four years.
The “not speaking out” did not really help. I had to go through a very painful breakup.
When I was in school, chocolate day was just an excuse for me to ask for chocolates from everybody. And, a friend did give it to me once when he noticed that I was sad because of my recent break-up. I was sitting on a bench under the tree. He just came, gave me the chocolate, hugged me and sat beside me without saying another word. He knew just what I wanted without me having to say any of it.
The most vivid teddy day memory – My friend asked the guy I used to date back then whether he would give her a teddy bear. He replied, “If you really want one, I can get it for you. But, remember three days later you would have to kiss me.” She backed off.
Remember, pinky promise? That is what we did on promise day as kids. But as teenagers, the promises were of cosmic proportions – promise of being in love with someone always, being there for them whenever they needed. Promises which, more often than not, break (even if the person does not mean to).
Remember the awkward moment in college when you hugged everyone in the vicinity, just so you could hug your crush? Been there, done that. Not once, but many times – the cute neighbour, the intelligent guy in coaching class, the new guy who walked into the class with a swag, the best friend who always takes care of you (and, you suddenly realise you do not want him to be just the best friend).
The Valentine’s Day eve. It does not make sense to have a kiss day so late in the order. I mean, if I did have a valentine, I would have kissed him several times by now. How can you not kiss him when he gets you a teddy bear or a chocolate bouquet?
But, there was this one time that it happened. Remember, the guy who gave me the yellow rose. Six days later, I took him behind the college building and tried to cosy up. (Not a very comfortable thing to do as I had to keep looking here and there to make sure no one walked in on us.)
And, the other time when I made kiss day special by applying the strawberry lip balm. I still don’t know whether he actually liked the flavour or was it what I did after applying the lip balm. (Although, I myself do not like the taste of the lip balm, so I guess, neither did he.)
Fast-forward to 2016. I am a working woman now.
I miss the college days when I did not have to worry about anything. I could go for a nice dinner whenever I wanted. This year, I could not even celebrate with my valentine. I did not have the time to go out or even fix a fancy dinner at home.
Not that it mattered till kiss day. But, it is not really my fault if I get sad when I see my friends putting up photographs of the extravagant love gestures made by their boyfriend and husbands.
I was upset initially, but, then I decided to celebrate my love on my own terms. At the end of the month. It is still due, let’s see what happens.
(A girl in the city and her girly dreams)