‘Oo.. lalal.. laa..’

Any Feeling that triggers the soul smoothly is Love!

 

 Fiction is stranger than Truth. But at times, the Truth is stranger than Fiction!

 

Though very interesting love stories can be fabricated, which can be stranger than truth, I am going to refrain from making such an attempt. Its all because when I excavate my thoughts and feelings from my child hood I felt that I have some stuff, fitting the subject matter ‘unusual love’. 

 

So what I am going to narrate now is not a story – but can call it a series of incidents from my childhood. I am sure that when these incidents were happening, at that time, it was not known that these incidents could be affairs or LOVE. I strongly believe that on the other side also, they would not have realized these incidents as LOVE! Surprisingly, at the route level of childhood itself I caught the lively scenes one by one. 

 

I studied in a Municipal Elementary School where there were only two sections A and B. Each section had boys and girls from 1st standard to 5th standard. There were about six teachers and an ‘Aya’. I remember Namitha teacher as head mistress. I was a well studying boy and had a strong place in the good books of teachers. And hence, most of the boys and girls were my admirers. 

 

Many girls used to talk to me more often but with shyness. But I was more shy when compared with them. The other boys used to make fun of me, when girls talk to me. I would be angry when the boys mock at me. The girls used to ask my class note book, homework note book etc., Among many, when some girls talk to me, I would have a strange feeling of flying. I think that, ‘that particular feeling’ only would have been called as ‘crush’. I hope that that, I also would have been a ‘crush’, for a few of them.

 

Among the girls a few girls created an ‘oo.. lalal.. la..’ in my musical heart when they talked to me. At the same time I remember that I did not respond much for a few other girls. May be because they did not create an ‘oo.. lalal laa..’ in me. 

 

There came an occasion, when my image was crashed. I remember about a group of girls and boys went out to a different school to take part in a drama competition. Those ‘oo.. lalal.. laa..’ girls also were there. In the drama I played the role of a King. And I was the hero too. A mustache was fixed to two holes of my nose with a thin metal wire. The play was going on. At one point of time in the play, I was delivering my emotional dialogues with full vigour and power. The drama was nearing climax. When I was delivering my emotional dialogue in the climax of the drama, my artificial mustache got displaced and it came to my mouth causing hindrance to my dialogue delivery. In the peak emotion of delivering dialogue, unknowing what was happening, I spitted the mustache and continued the dialogues. Suddenly everyone started laughing and clapping. Thinking that I was being appreciated, my emotion found no boundary, and the dialogues came out like bullets. The non-stop laughing and clapping continued. However, I did not stop until I finished my emotional acting and fell down dead as per the climax scene. 

 

It took more than two minutes for the cheer and applause to stop. My class teacher woke me up, with bursting laughter, heartily hugged me and said ‘you are today’s hero!’ 

 

After completing the performance, every teacher, boy and girl appreciated my emotional acting and appreciated to the core. But all of them ended with a big laugh of the ‘mustache displacement’ moment.

 

When those ‘oo.. lalal.. la’ girls approached me, I was feeling shy and felt very sad to face them.

They appreciated double the time as others. I was sadly waiting for the ‘mustache’ episode followed by a cracked laughter. But to my surprise and relief, they quietly left the place with as much sorrow in their face as that of mine and boarded the vehicle meant for their direction.

 

My teacher took me by hand, to the vehicle, which, I was supposed to board. Those ‘oo-lalalla’ girls’ vehicle just crossed my parked vehicle, which was yet to depart. And those ‘oo-lalalla’ girls waved their hands which expressed an appreciation, sympathy and innocence. 

 

Though not at that time, but now at this point of time, when I think that moment, I am wondering, why those two girls were so soft, sympathetic, kind to me. Only now I can realise the meaning for that soft corner they had in them for me. 

 

Is this not an unusual LOVE?

 

(I usually give all my creations to my wife for a review. I asked her to review this also. She took a little more time than usual (my ‘lup-dup’ at its peak). She suggested a few correction and said OK.)