My Seventh Love

It had all started with a click.

I was just wandering on the internet on a cloudy evening. I didn’t know what was to come. I had just completed my pending work which had been staring at me since two weeks. Finally, conquered all of it!

So now after strolling around on all the social networking sites I have marked my presence at, I went to my best friend, Google and searched “blogs”. I did not want to make a blog of mine, but wanted to read some. Being an avid reader, I usually go on random links and start reading stories. I have this peculiar habit of reading various blogs every day and then awarding my favourite as the Blog of the Day. The prize being a conversation with the writer. I’ve always felt that the person behind the story is the most intriguing part of a story.

After reading some six blogs with almost mundane styles, I clicked on the seventh link. I thought to myself, this has to be my Blog of the Day; seven being my lucky number. I read the blog’s name. I read the first story on the blog. And then I read the writer’s name. I knew this was The One for the Day. I had found The One, for the day.

Amit N. His blog profile proudly said his name. I must admit I had wondered about the ‘N.’ for a long time, longer than I’d thought about the story I’d read on his blog. This writer was different. His blog had a lot of poems. I went through all of them one by one. At the end of the page, I had to take a break. I was suffocated by emotions. Each poem of his had a sense of sadness to it. Keeping my sudden gloominess aside, I clicked on the ‘About Me’ section almost twice. Student, Cancer, 21 Male. I was magnetically attracted to his e-mail id. I added him to my friends list the very next second. I didn’t know what was to come. I wasn’t even thinking.

I didn’t have to wait much for the prize ceremony. He didn’t keep me waiting. He initiated the conversation. I told him I loved his blog. He asked me why. I was taken aback. Nobody has ever questioned me this. So I smilingly wrote down the answer to his question. He didn’t reply for almost two minutes. I tried to keep myself distracted throughout. Then he wrote, “You sure? I’m somehow not convinced.” For two minutes, I didn’t move. Probably for the first time in my life, I didn’t know how to react. This writer was indeed different.

Four days had passed since our first acquaintance. Four days. Ten conversations. By now we knew each other’s telephone numbers, address, family, and friends. All we didn’t know was about each other. On the fifth day, he asked me if we could meet somewhere. I was apprehensive. I wasn’t too sure. That day I ended the chat abruptly and went offline. I wanted to avoid him. I wanted to avoid thinking about him. Half an hour later, my phone rang. It was him. I picked up the phone. The first thing he said was, “I understand. It’s ok. Take your time.” And all I could do was breathe a sigh of relief and smile.

After two days and two terse conversations, I called him up and said, “We need to meet. Tomorrow. Café. 12 pm.” He said, “I will be waiting for you.” The next day I felt the same when I’d read his blog. I was suffocated with too many feelings at one time. I was anxious, excited, highly nervous, and slightly indifferent. I wanted to close my eyes and hum a song. So I did. When I opened my eyes, my sister was staring at me. She just about managed to control her silly laugh for four seconds.

When I reached the café where we were supposed to meet 15 minutes early, I saw many filled tables. But I knew it wasn’t going to be difficult finding my winner. He was sitting besides a window, staring at an old woman sitting outside on the pavement. I went up and sat quietly. We exchanged glances and smiles. Surprisingly, he looked at me from head to toe and said, “As expected, you look great.” Gulping down the amazement, I replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any expectations.” He laughed and said, “Coffee?” We spent the next two and a half hours talking about that old woman, the ill-behaved weather, our previous meetings, our blogs, and a number of things which I don’t even remember now. All I remember is the constant smile in my eyes. When I reached home, my mother and sister were watching television. I walked in the house with a transformed face. I’m sure I shocked both of them because they couldn’t concentrate on their favorite serial for the next five minutes.

For sometime I was in that trance. Ten days later, he broke it. He had to go out of town for seven days. The first day I kept thinking about him. I realized I was most intrigued by his voice. Till the evening, we kept exchanging messages. This ended when he messaged me, “I’m already missing you. Don’t know how I’ll survive for the next 6 days.” After this, he kept messaging me till midnight. I didn’t reply to any of his messages. Not because I didn’t know what to, but because he didn’t say it correctly.

After he came back, we met each other. We didn’t talk for 20 minutes. Then I looked at him with a frustrated face and said, “Say something. Or say it!” It was his turn to be shocked. He bent forward, took my hand, then left it, and said, “I really want us to be together.” I took his hand and said, “I missed you too. Don’t know how I survived those 6 days.”

It’s been seven months since our first acquaintance. I don’t have a moral of the story. I don’t have a “The End”. I’m still living in the trance. He continues to intrigue me. And I still know he is The One. I have found The One, for life.