A Love Story (my friends contribution)

He was a great fellow... my friend... one of those rarer types... the kind whose worth you wouldn't know when he is around, however, would miss dearly when not. He was not a great speaker. But, what he lacked in speech, he made up in words. He was one helluva terrific writer.... Even now, when I don't have anything to do, I go and read his works all over again. ( I have made an archive of them. ) They make you nostalgic... make you want to kiss the feet of the person who invented prose.

One would not call him extravagantly handsome... the type who would make women turn and toss in their sleep; but he knew his share of women. Some did confide in him more than they would do with their other girl friends. He was a hit among his friends. Both men and women. Partly, 'cos he appeared more matured than the rest, and partly, 'cos he was a great listener. He was a like a sponge. The kind who could sit and listen to you for hours on end, without saying a word; without uttering a word of advice or suggestion.... A great listener... In more ways than one, he was much like me. One of the many reasons, we were on the same plane.

As I said, he was no stranger to women; and very few could rouse his interest in them. ( Mind you... am not speaking about sexuality.. ) But... she was different. He had been watching her since college. Many had vied for her attention and lost. It had been three years now. He was in the second year of engineering and.. there she was... walking ahead of him. He would see her every morning, while going to college, wanting to approach her, but daring not to.

Then one day, he mustered up enough courage, and went up to her and spoke. God... Was it awkward.. remembers he.. with a wry grin on his face. But to his surprise, she was far different than what he had thought. She was great..... She was not witty.. but she would make him smile. She would not spare him, if he was wrong, lashing at him... but she would make him proud. She would never make herself up for anyone.... but she never needed to.. In short, she was wonderful... A perfet companion..

They would meet every morning, and walk those two minutes, talking about everything under the sun. He would laugh... She would laugh.. And both would laugh out loud... making the early morning joggers turn and smile thinking, "They would make such a beautiful pair.."

She would confide in him that he was the only man she was close to so much... She had never known that a man and woman could be such wonderful companions. That they could share such a beautiful and pure relationship... But he would only smile when she would say that. He knew that the time was near. He was nearing the end of his engineering; only a month to go.... He knew well what her response would be... He dreaded it... He knew it might as well be the end of their relationship... But he had to say it. He had to tell her that he had grown to be fond of her. That he was in love with her.

And.. then, so it happened.... He said it... She felt betrayed. He did not want to look into those eyes. But he braved himself to. "Even you turned out to be the same.... Even you..." they said.

They met the next morning again.. Walked those two minutes, she didnt utter a word. He said he would wait... wait for her reply, as long as he can... and left...
Three years down... he still loves her. Everytime he thinks of her, a smile breaks on his lips.. She could make him happy.. Very very happy... Everytime he walks down that lane, he is reminded of those two minutes they used to share... and laughs involuntarily.. Oh ! Yes.. She could make him very very happy.. He is waiting to ask her again. Ask her hand in marriage again... But he dreads that.. No.. He doesn't even want to think about it...

But everything happens in this world as he dreads..... He comes to know that she is married.. married and happy. Married.. not to him... But happy nonetheless... A wry smile breaks on his lips.. Selfish though he was, isn't that what he too had wanted.. To keep her happy.

He felt exhausted.... spent... he had spent all his love on her. He believes he cannot love anyone... not after her... not anymore...

I believe so too..... I believe that he is truly spent...and he can never write about love again....