...a school boy's crush[es]...

She and I used to sit next to each other. We used to share food, pencil, color pens, and anything shareable. She was my crush. She was shorter than me and used to look sweet in a ponytail and tunic, with a tie knot-not larger than a berry.

One day, I saw her using Asif’s magnetic pencil box. She won’t talk to me. I was enraged but did not say anything to her. That evening I coaxed my cousins to lend me their double-decker magnetic pencil box. Next day I proudly displayed that and kept it in front of her, next to Asif’s. For some reason[s] I forget, it did not appeal her, and the guy succeeded in grabbing her attention by his charming box. The loaned box was returned to the cousins late night after they cried suspecting my intension of returning it.

I had to think of some other trick to woo her. I had none, so next day, in a fit of anger and frustration; I hit her on her head with the cupboard lock. This time I was not slapped, just thrashed!

The class did not talk to me for what seemed ages. Rita had to get stitches. Some 14 years later we both met in a computer institute where we both had registered for professional courses. She and I just smiled.
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She had the prettiest of face, that angelic smile, and a nice hair cut – just like mom – bob cut! Her family and ours knew each other – common friends. So it was natural to feel good that I knew this sweet girl more than anyone else in the class. We were in class 7 I guess, and perhaps girls at that age were not sensible to sense love vibes!
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Then there was another one who was a Christian beauty in class 9. But Karan liked her. And I was scared of Karan. So god knows what happened in the end, but I never succeeded. She and I were monitors. And because no boys would listen to me, I got canning in front of the entire class. I was least embarrassed for the punishment, more worried about losing that nice guy impression in front of my Christian beauty!
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My cousin’s friend, who flunked and was now with me in 9th but in a different section, came to my class to meet me. I was standing out, facing the wall – common punishment in those days for some kind of goof-up I must have done. The class was in progress and as I was not bothered about the subject or the teacher anymore, I started chatting with her, half mesmerized that a beauty girl would come to meet me, and half afraid she would tell my mom.

She had forgot a text book and wanted to borrow mine. I felt so disgusted that I could not help her, and thereby lost all possibility of any future interactions.

When she was leaving I requested her not to mention about my punishment to my mom. She smiled – ah that killing smile!

On several occasions I have got thrashing from my two principals for not keeping short hair. The male principal was cruel. I did not have a long mirror at home to examine the degree of damage his cane caused to my paining butt. I wished he fractured his fingers. I was intelligent to think of both hands.