First Love-part 1

I felt something small hit my face. I opened my eyes to see my teacher staring at me.  He had thrown a piece of chalk at me. I quickly stood up. My classmates were hiding their smiles.  “How dare you sleep in my class? It shows how much you are interested in your studies.  I feel sorry for your parents. They spend so much on you and this is how you pay them. “ he shouted. I didn’t reply back and smiled shamelessly. “Why are you smiling? Did I crack a joke here?  Stand out.” he shouted.  After half an hour , bell rang.  The teacher dismissed the class. I came in to take my bag. Rahul came towards me and patted my back. “ Hey bro!! You are really a star. You manage to sleep in his class. He insults you every time and in the end you give him a big smile. You have got guts. I cannot do what you did there. “ he said.  “What can I do?  His lectures sucks and I cannot control my sleep. When he opens his mouth to shout, I cannot stop smiling. It’s like as if some five year old squeaking at me.” I said and laughed. 

Rahul and I were friends from third grade. He was partner in all of my well executed pranks.  We knew each other so well.  Dreams, aspirations and secrets were not hidden between us.

Fifteen minutes later- We were waiting for the bus. Rahul was back to his old ways of cracking jokes on teachers and our class nerds. I wasn’t listening to him. I was simply staring at opposite bus stop. There were few people waiting for the bus. Some of them were students like us. While some of them were traveling to other side of city for purpose unknown to me. 

But I couldn’t stop looking at the young lady standing there. She was different from all of those who were standing. It was not her beauty but her divine presence. She was wearing creamy salwar that was matching her peachy skin. Her lips were contrast to her peach skin. They were dark red. Her eyes were like doe eyed with diluted pupils. Her cheeks had a dash of apple red. Her hair was lustrous black. She looked like an angel fallen down from the heaven.

I didn’t care Rahul’s continuous nudging. I was simply engrossed in staring at star shining from the opposite bus stop. “Hey, wake up Vicky! The bus has come. Don’t you want to come home?” , he said. Shit! The bus! If I missed this bus, I was sure going to be late and face the wrath of Hitler at home. Who wants that?

 (To be continued)