she who?

Love is fairly complicated in my part of the world. I lost the love of my life in three months. It was an organized process. Like a banking trial, or a semester project. Her name was Prapti, Prapti Regmi. If you look for her now you may not find her because her name now is Prapti Dhakal. And my name is Rajan Rimal. You should have figured out by now that she got married to someone else.


I had just finished my business management class and was walking to get outside the campus building. I had a thick book on my left hand and my right hand was toying with my phone. Understandably, I wasn’t looking keenly into what I was walking. You all must assume I bumped into her and my book fell down and we both kneeled to pick it up. She and I both said “sorry” at the same time, and our eyes met. While we both reached for the book our fingers touched and the world should have zoned out by now and the sweet smell of roses must have filled the room and yes the room must have transformed into a garden. We must have fallen in love. I wish I could tell you all this happened.

Just as I reached the main door, a car pulled over in front of it. She came out of the car. She was wearing a blue flowery dress that made her look like a tulip. Which wasn’t very attractive but nevertheless it caught my attention strongly. Her hair was tied up, but a strand had managed to escape the knot and now was waving at me while it swayed across her face. My grip over my business management book got harder and I wasn’t looking at my phone anymore. Her bodily features were amazing. Don’t think I am a perv. What is a boy suppose to look for in a girl he absolutely doesn’t know, Curves.

The heel on her shoes was slim and slender, much like her finger. And when she walked they made a clattering rhythm that tallied with the beat of my heart. I do not realize exactly, but I guess I must have stopped blinking; my eyes felt like I had just drunk some liquor, only that she was more intoxicating.

The first time I saw her was magical. Judge me by my appearance and you’ll tell me I look average, but she looked like a beauty queen. That night, I thought of her the whole time. I didn’t even sleep. I couldn’t look her up on facebook, I didn’t know her name. All I knew about her was she was beautiful the first time I saw her and I hoped to see more of her every day.

Surely my wish was granted. Next day, same time, I somehow managed to be at the front door of the campus building and was waiting for a car to pull over. It didn’t. But instead a Yamaha R1 did. And seated as pillion, donned in deep blue jeans and a t- shirt was she. Her face now sported aviator glasses. Her hair was tied back the same way it was yesterday and in the same manner one strand was waving vigorously across her face until the bike stopped right in front of me.

I was nervous she would hear my heart beating, and was more nervous her boyfriend would see the love for her sparkling in my eyes. Nothing like that happened. I just walked off. My head turned other side and my back facing the bike and her and her boyfriend. I imagined him taking off his helmet and her giving him goodbye kisses. This just isn’t fair. How am I supposed to impress her when she already has a boyfriend who owns a Yamaha R1? That’s bike cost’s all the money my father makes in a year. I just hoped she wasn’t materialistic, but her Ray Ban aviator was telling something else.

I turned and burned in my bed that night. I was working in my head a scheme to make myself visible to her and also to seem more substantial than a stupid motorbike that costs a fortune. Even if I sold my kidneys I could not afford it. So, all I said to myself “Money isn’t everything”.

The next day I sure didn’t wait in front of the door for no car. I was minding my own damn business when I heard her walking towards me. Actually I had smelled her distinct perfume in the air the moment she entered the room. I was busy sketching on my notepad and didn’t bother to look up to check if my perfume guess was correct. It was correct anyway, as she walked right towards me and sat in front of me.

“Excuse me!” she said.

I looked up. And yes I was right about her perfume, as I told you. There she was. The angel of my dreams, looking right into my eyes with anticipation of a word from my side- “ yes?” I finally spoke after I was done sucking in the situation.

“Are you Rajan?”

I wanted to say “ask that again, just to hear her say my name, and to see her lips open and then the top of her tongue touch the line of upper teeth to make the sound. Rajan.

Her lips were much visible to me now. The upper lip was arched like a bow and the lower lip seemed like a pillow that rested the bow. And presumably her tongue must be sharp like an arrow.

“But, I’ll find that out when I kiss her.” I said to myself.

“Yes , I am” – I said to her.

“I would like to contribute some article for the monthly magazine and I was told you’re the guy that makes it all happen so….”

Oh! I might not have an R1 but I sure have a brain that works with words equally smooth, might be faster. And it seems this girl has a thing for both.

“Yes, I am the editor of the magazine and I sure hope I can get some space for you but, I haven’t really seen you before, you don’t belong to this college, do you?”

“oh, my name is Prapti Reghmi. I just transferred here.”

“  …from?”

“I was studying in India, but I had to move back.”

“family issues?”

I could be a nosy bastard. It didn’t matter as long as I was the editor and she wanted me to publish her.

“No, well.. a little but not very much.. an amalgamation of issues, actually”

I gave out a laugh.

“Well I think you’re the kind of person I was looking for. I need someone write on why celebrities should go to B school or something like why should Robert plant get a degree or anything of this genre, can you do that for me? ”

“Huh! Umm… I think you got me wrong… I don’t want to write for you, I want to contribute my own….”

“I know. I was just kidding with you. Okay, you sure know what you want to do. And what would Robert plant do with a degree any way…”I laid down my humor.

She felt relieved and smiled at this. I realized with this joke she felt comfortable and now she was leaning back on her chair. I knew it was the right time to ask,

“…if you have any of your writings with you I would like to read them over lunch.”I asked her, emphasizing on the lunch.

“Oh yeah, I do. I was just waiting for you to ask that.” She said springing up from her seat at the same time and she came towards my side of the table and sat right beside me. By this time she had a gadget in her hand. I had seen the advertisement on the paper but never really seen an iPad before. And there she was waving the white plastic in front of me and I didn’t know fuck about how to use it. But I had had experience with the iPhone so it wasn’t much of a problem. Anyway it was she who navigated through until she opened a page full of words, I just had to scroll. We forgot about lunch and I read her essay right there with my full concentration. I finished reading it and looked up to her and asked-

“Is it just an essay or do you really think money isn’t a thing?”


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