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Story Time: Six alphabets
God must have definitely devoted a lot of time in making her. She not only had a faultily faultless beauty but was a very tender and indulgent teacher as well. No doubt she was selected for an all boys school, the best one in town. Her name was Amna but she was referred to as Chikini (attractive) by most of the boys in their local vocabulary.
Right from her first day she started making a difference. There was a pleasant and invigorating change like a sea breeze, in boys being well groomed. They appeared two hundred times more decent and civilized.
She was teaching class IX, a class of juvenile Romeo’s who have very little exposure with the outside world. Love for them was like chocolates which taste very yummy, and you go for another one when the first one finishes till you do not want more. There is no dearth of chocolates and no paucity of consumers.
Many fell in love with her more swiftly than they would have fallen from a steep cliff and one out of many to fall prey to Cupid’s arrow was Hassan, a diligent student whose performance was de-escalating because his Physics and Chemistry revolved around Amna. She, on the other hand, did not miss any chance to make him feel that she has something for him by those whimsical smiles. She took interest in his work and never balked to go an extra mile to help him.
Hassan’s happiness knew no bounds. His callow mind made him assume things ... which were not meant. He was mesmerized by her beauty, civility and above all her presence. He inexorably fell in love with her. He was in that vulnerable age group where ostentatiousness and challenges are the key factors. Giving it a deep and profound thinking he admitted to himself that he was in love with her.
Now all he needed was to confess this to “the lady of his dreams” which seemed even harder than solving the sphinx riddle. But somehow from her responses he got encouraged and started looking up for an opportunity to talk to her.
One day after school when every one had almost left, he went to the staff-room where she was packing up to leave. She was wearing a black dress, which was fully complementing her fair and flawless complexion. His praising glances made her blush.
Mustering up all the confidence and courage he had, he said “Madam I want to say something”.
“Yes please.” Then there was a pin drop silence, as if a cassette ended abruptly.
“I am waiting, Hassan. What is it?”
She was a bit too anxious or may be he felt so. Fear and anxiety were gnawing at his heart. Putting it all in words was more difficult than he ever thought.
“Maaaadamm,” he stammered his voice seemed to come from far away. “What I want to say are six alphabets.” He stood looking at the mercurial fluctuations of her facial contours. And then to his utmost surprise the result were exactly according to his notions. She giggled and said in a lofty voice, “I was waiting for to you say it ... you took so long in deciding. Anyway my car is waiting outside. I will talk to you tomorrow,” saying this she exited the scene.
Hassan was feeling on top of the world. He did not know how to contain it in himself. Amna’s words proved to be a balm for his weary emotions. He rushed home, took out all his savings and hurried to the market to buy presents for her. He spent every penny he had. And when he came out of the shop he was loaded with stuff. All the mugs, stuffed toys, cards, he bought had those six alphabets written on them — “Love Ya”.
He could not wait for tomorrow to come. Seconds were not passing by quickly to give way to hours. He couldn’t sleep at night and was up earlier than everyone in the house.
He wore his uniform, which was ironed thrice and emptied one fourth of the perfume bottle on it. He reached school even earlier than the janitors. Day started and as per normal days, he wanted it to end. Not because he wanted to play but to have a rendezvous with Amna. Time was never so difficult to pass. He thought probably his watch is not keeping pace with time. And then at last the day ended. Holding his bag in one and wrapped gifts in the other he headed to the staff room.
Amna never looked so smashing to him, as she was looking then.
“I never thought you would be so good in reading faces,” he initiated the conversation.
“Oh, come on, it was lucid from your behaviour. I always had the idea that you wanted to call me ‘sister’ ... guessing this six letter word was not an arduous job.”
Hassan felt as if a ton of bricks fell on him. Gifts fell from his hands. All the glass in the gift broke and shattered into innumerable pieces like his heart.
Then came upon his heart an intolerable burden of despondency and he fell on a chair nearby.
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