The Captive of True Love: 4

This is the fourth part of ‘The Captive of True Love’. So, if you are new here. Please first read the previous chapters here.

Chapter 4: Melting Ice-cream, Melting Hearts

It had been a couple of weeks. Still, I hadn’t cancelled my admission. In fact, I had started arriving early, only to make sure that I’ll get to sit near the window to catch the sight of Priya. Also, the teachers at the tuition centre were so amazing that I convinced Pooja to join that class, presuming, maybe this will assist her to improve her academic performance.

But from the very first day, she started doing what she loved doing the most, scrutinizing my actions, she started telling me how pathetic it is of me, to just sit, watch and wonder whether she remembers me.

I was holding myself from doing MORE, As I still hadn’t forgotten her father punching that guy. But now that Pooja had started calling me a coward, it triggered me.

So, on one fine Saturday, I decided to take the initiative. On weekends, we used to have classes in the evening, and the weekend was the only period in the week when I could meet her, as on other days she would go to her school, a few minutes before my class ends.

Hurriedly yet trying to look as cool as possible, I rushed toward the ice cream parlour in her building. There she was, with her friend, in her black outfit with a cornetto in her petite hand. The ice cream was melting; the tiny shreds of chocolates were treading down the cone. Soon, the cold ice cream touched the skin of her hand and she realized she was folly licking her finger.
I couldn’t help but find it alluring, watching her enjoy the ice cream. Was it just me, or was it the most enticing thing in the world?
I was dying to make my way over to her and say “hi.” All I wanted was to avoid being creepy and drawing any unwanted attention.

It felt like I was about to relive the exact same moment once again, as memories of my first talk with her flashed in my brain. It felt like I was back on the tennis court.

I saw her standing alone on the court without any of her friends to practice with. Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed a racquet and walked up to her.

Just then someone bumped into me and my mind came back to the present time. And once again I started wondering whether she even remembers me or not.

Perhaps, it was the time when the curtains were finally going to close on my pathetic monodrama.

Illustration by Omario Brunelleschi

“Look… Mahesh”, She whispered to her best friend, Sanchiti.

I couldn’t help but smile as I stood before them. “So you still remember my name? That’s great!”

“Still eavesdropping, I see,” she teased.

“I just have sharp ears,” I replied. “And to be honest, hearing your voice – even in a crowded room – is like music to my ears. It’s more captivating than the sunset painting the sky in a multitude of hues, forming a beautiful background to your silhouette of indeterminate beauty.”
“Where did you steal that line from?” she asked, her face flushing slightly.
“It’s original,” I insisted. “I don’t use other people’s words.

“Ohh, seems like you’re considering my advice to become a poet. Because this was quite a poetic”

“Trueee” Sanchiti supported her.

“Naah, writing isn’t my cup of tea, I rarely come up with such fine words. Anyway, I’m glad you still remember me”

“How can I forget the guy whose tennis serve is like poetry in motion”, She said, emphasizing the word poetry.

It wasn’t hard to sense the sarcasm here; I knew I had a pathetic serve back then.

“Haha, very funny. Maybe that’s why he defeated you a few hundred times”

“That’s because you’re a boy. Bring any female player and see who defeats who”

“Oh come on, gender has nothing to do here. I think Serena can beat any pro-male player”

“Okay, Mr Feminist, You’re right, I’m wrong. Happy?” She continued, “I think it won’t bother Mr Feminist, if a girl pays for his ice cream, right?”

I just smile and nod.

“One butter scotch please” She ordered.

“How do you know I love that flavour?” I asked curiously.

“You remember the last time we met? You ordered this and told me it’s your favourite… If you have therp ears, I have a sharp memory!” She winked.

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me. The way she remembered what I liked, the way she smiled at me, it all made me feel alive. Maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something new.

To be continued…


Published by Mahesh Mali

Author of 'Reflections of My Youth' | Student @ SPPU | Former Fellow @BeingVolunteer | Freelancer @PlayoApp | Tennis Player

11 thoughts on “The Captive of True Love: 4

  1. Ahaaan! I can sense some romance brewing here! 😻 The way you describe incidents makes them so real, so tangible. Super excited for what’s to come next. Also, I just love this friend Pooja, I don’t know why. 😹 This part is short and sweet. Very interesting. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

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