Love Story

Love.

What am I doing, talking about love? Well, why not? In the thousands of years of evolution of this ethereal and evaescent species called humans, there has been no emotion that has captured the imagination of millions more vividly and more deeply than love. Fear is also a close contender, but fear is a reaction that comes forth when something that is loved is threatened. All the other emotions are offshoots of this curious one.

Love is a humbling experience. Love makes you fall down on your knees and weep. Love makes you look up and see the vast, blue sky - wanting to just levitate and be embraced by that giant shroud. Love is all you need.

I am in love, as you may have surmised. How am I in love? I will tell you.

It was a hot afternoon - the kind of afternoon that you want to sleep through but can't. There was humidity in the air thick enough to stir it with a spoon. And my sweat was adding on to the salty taste in that seaside air. There were tiny blisters on the underside of my feet - and every step I took was like that of Ariel's, the little mermaid that forsook her fins for legs just so that she could walk the sands and meet her lover. Every step cut like a knife. And I was walking to a shop so that I could buy a pair of swimming trunks.

"Uncle? Are you going to Mummy Daddy?"

She was all of ten years old. Dark skin and darker eyes. But her clothes and her skin were painted over by a collage of colors - red and pink and purple. Evidences of a celebration were clear in her skip. Holi? At this time?

"Yes." Mummy Daddy was the name of the shop that sold swimming trunks, among other things.

"There is a shop called Hot Breads right opposite to it and my house is a floor above Hot Breads. Can you help me cross the road? I am not supposed to, on my own."

"Sure!" I discovered the beginnings of a smile on my face. She misread it.

"Don't think I am mental, okay? I am like this because we had summer camp and we celebrated holi. Everyday, we celebrate one festival. Yesterday we had diwali. And the day before, we had Janmashtami. And before that, Christmas. And tomorrow, we will be doing New Year!"

"That's lovely. And I don't think you are mental."

We walked on - me in silence and she talking about her school and the summer camp and the fat boy that had tried to kiss her earlier. *YUCK! BOYS!*

"What's your name?" I asked her, not taking my eyes of hers. Such beautiful eyes!

"Neha. And yours?"

"I am Raju." Raju is the name I give when I am not in the mood to discuss the curious evolutionary aspects of my other name - Joos.

"That's a nice name. Even my brother's name is Raju. Actually his name is Raj, but he calls himself Raju. Are you in college or working, uncle?" All this was said in a single breath.

"I am working."

"Oh! Infosys?" Smart kid. All she had to go by were my dorky glasses and my weird haircut.

"No. I am a writer. I write stories."

"Wow! I love reading stories!"

"But I am afraid these are the grown-up variety."

She mused over that one for a while and then said, "Oh! Love stories?" The smile on her lips were mischievous for having found out something naughty about me.

"Ummm....yes. And some other stories too. Here is the shop. Do you want to hold my hand while we cross?"

"No. That's fine, uncle. I am a big girl."

We crossed while she kept talking about the stories that she liked to read. Once we were on the other side, she thanked me sweetly and vanished.

I was glad that her mother hadn't warned her about talking to strangers. And I was in love.

Love. It can make you smile in the middle of a busy street on a hot, humid afternoon when you have blisters on the underside of your feet.