“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times … it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us …” [Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities]
Frankly, I don’t remember the details of how we first met and what we said or did then to break the ice. All I remember is being besotted by her from the moment I first set my eyes on her.
For months thereafter, she would tease me by describing in great detail how I had mumbled and fumbled. She could recall the precise colour of my turban, the print and design of my bush-shirt, the colour of my trousers, the state of my sandals.
It was at a party that we first met. I was studying for my Bachelor’s in English. She was in History. A mutual interest in one-act plays had drawn both of us to the reception. Exactly how we were introduced or stumbled into each other escapes me now. I was shy and an introvert then, so it would’ve had to be her to have initiated a conversation.
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During the course of one of our conversations that evening -- we kept running into each other -- it came out that she was from out of town: Raziapur, a couple of hours’ drive away.
But I do remember I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, no matter where she was in the room. Not glamourous, just incredibly beautiful.
During the course of one of our conversations that evening -- we kept running into each other -- it came out that she was from out of town: Raziapur, a couple of hours’ drive away.
I recall it as a segue into a discussion on Razia Sultan, a 13th century empress of Delhi who I knew had inspired the naming of the town. Geek-like, I knew everything that was there to know about her: the daughter of a Spartacus-like character named Iltutmish, I had read about her history to distraction.
That is what must’ve impressed her that evening, I guess.
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Again, one thing led to another.
And we fell in love.
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They say youth is wasted on the young, wisdom on the old.
Now that I'm no longer young, and have had time to give this some thought, I don't agree.
With the benefit of hindsight, I’m glad now that the two of us, both in our late teens then, were not burdened with good sense.
Had we been, we would’ve avoided each other like the plague. Every bit of common sense would’ve militated against our being together. Fortunately, our brains were switched off.
To begin with, we were both from provincial, parochial, back-water worlds: that is, conservative and behind the times.
Dating was unheard of. In fact, any public contact between the opposite sexes, other than in family or social settings, was frowned upon ... discouraged ... prohibited.
That was not all. We had an even bigger problem: we belonged to different religions.
