The Loner

Loner n A person who is often alone or who prefers to be alone , rather than with other people.

Thats what I am. Since childhood,since I remember. During family weddings,when the cousins would dance and sing and play and cry, I preferred sitting by the lake, looking at my undulating reflection in the water.Some people liked me for that; some didnt. I didnt care. Relatives would come and smile at me and worry about how thin I'm becoming while my mother would ask me to do Namaste. I preffered to keep myself away from all these bullshits. The same people who praised you fawningly in front of you would be bitching your ass out when you turn your back.

At school,boys hated me.The girls loved me. They would place bets among themselves to talk with me.All my joys,sorrows,laughs and tears were locked inside a small muscle called the heart.I never told my problems to anybody. I believed that "80% people did not care while the other 20% were glad you had them".

Even in my college,I stay in my room blowing the shit out of my ears listening to the loudest of music.I read a lot and hate the characters in them. I hate the self-confessed know-it-alls in my college.I hate the virgin girls trying every desperate effort to lose 'it'. And I hate myself for being in an shithole of a place.

* * *

I see a girl sitting on a corner bench in the classroom drawing figures in her notebook. A loner perhaps! I dont why(and till now I have no idea why) I go and talk to her.She gives me a cold glance and I step back. I forget her after that.Then after some days, I see the same girl in a restaurant crying alone.I go and join her.I ask about her and realise that I have found a she-myself. She says she hates her mother. I say I too. She says she hates her room-mates. I say I too. We talk about our simmilarities. We talk about ourselves. We are laughing. We have tears in our eyes.We are in love.

I go out with her everyday. My friends say-'See our loner friend has got himself a girlfriend'. Man! The day my lips touched hers, I realise I was wrong all this time. There's love everywhere. The day her soft skin grazes mine, I realise the pain my mother took in handling me.The day I make love to her, I realise I have stopped hating. And so has she. We love people.We love the couples making out in the garden. We love the chai-wallah,give him a smile and he adds more sugar to our tea. Our world becomes sweeter.

Then one day, in the same restaurant, in that same seat, we find a girl crying.Perhaps waiting for her loner friend to teach her love. We smile at each other.