Love At First Sight

Stumped! Head over heels! I was falling, falling deep in love with him. And, apparently the first time I laid my eyes on him.

Love at first sight, isn’t that what they call it? Well, I thought it was. I was 17, maybe 18, I’m not too sure, when I first saw him at the 9.30 AM Sunday mass at a prominent church in the Queen of Suburbs, Bandra. Oh what a wonderful sight he was; carved with perfection and being the Godly being that I was in those days, I believed him to be that God-sent angel that my sorry life was so lacking.

Perfect is the only word that comes to my mind when I think of him. That well-trimmed French beard, those black eyes, and the best asset – his hands, those wonderful fingers that played the piano. Yes! Yes yes yes . . . He could play that piano OK. My heart fluttered in my chest every time music emerged from those keys. And (and I found this out only later when I saw him play at the Good Friday mass), the guitar. Now that was way more than I had or could’ve asked for in a guy. I was so in love. Well, at least that’s what I thought.

So, this perfect being was on my mind like all the time and I made it a point to go for that 9.30 AM mass every Sunday just to ogle at him. My eyes only turned his way. As for the sermon, umm, absolutely no idea! But there was a God right there in front of me, who I stared at, I didn’t need a sermon, come on. At least, I went for mass. Come sun, rain, or cold (this is Mumbai weather I’m speaking about), I was there. Just so I could look at him.

And this went on and on and on. And, it reached such a stage that I even called my friend (who came all the way from Vikhroli on a Sunday, of all days) to look at him. Now now, before you judge me, I was in love ok. I couldn’t help it. I had to “show” him to someone. And it went on and on and on. The ogling, I mean. And, if you think after this on and on and on, I finally confessed my undying love to him, NO! Sorry but no. Nada! Umm, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

It was like my eyes were better players than my mouth. Well, anyway, I didn’t give up. Ogling, ha! Because how could I profess my love to that perfect creature? That God who played the piano. Melodius! But the real reason, now that I think about it, is that I believed that I was too low for him. I didn’t belong where he did. I wasn’t right for him. He, obviously, was faultless. That I’d never know now, would I? About him being faultless, I mean.

The point I’m trying to make here is that we, ladies, often do this to ourselves. And I’m not even speaking about falling in love. I’m talking about how we put ourselves down; how we always think that someone is always better than us (boy or girl); how we don’t love ourselves enough. But that’s what is so important, I realize. Falling in love with yourself because obviously you’re going to live with yourself forever. Treat yourself, take care of yourself, indulge yourself, respect yourself. You deserve it. This goes for the male folks, too (no, I’m not a “feminist” feminist).

As for the God, well, I found out he was already seeing someone (of course, she was better than me, a goddess); how I was crushed! Why GOD why? I trusted you so much. Well anyway, Mr. Perfectionist was never meant to be, umm, mine. But anyway, at least I can boast of this cute crush (oh yeah, it wasn’t love, I guess) I once had. Come on, he was cute, really cute and he played the piano, remember? And, as for love at first sight, no, that’s not for me, either! Wait, it may be . . . No! No love at first sight for me!


About Sandy Chris

An avid reader and ardent traveller with a penchant for photography and good food.
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