Gaurav’s Story

I knew Gaurav from my time in Carmel School. Curly-haired Gaurav and I used to travel in the same school bus to Salwa. My younger sister was in LKG or so. I must have been in 2nd or 3rd. Anyway, Gaurav and another naughty naughty classmate of his (one Sunil) used to sit along with us. They were the big boys from FOURTH standard… :-)

I can’t remember the details of the kind of pranks they used to pull on us, but my sister would almost always end up in tears, and Gaurav would make her sit on his lap to make her stop crying lest the bus leader (A pretty 12th std girl called Olinda, who later on went on to work in KTV2) caught him! Gaurav has a younger sister who was a toddler back then. We could see the girl playing in their balcony while he boarded the bus. Chubby-cheeked and curly-haired, a sight straight out of our poetry reader books!

Years later, I was sitting in class 6-B, UIS when I thought I saw someone like what Gaurav would look like if he were 12. Our eyes met when he walked into his class (Seventh), I smiled but he didn’t recognize me. We never spoke after the invasion. I have watched him run for the Blue house and cheered him on. Somehow, I never went out of my way to say “Hey! Remember me?”

This is just one of the memories I feel sad about being the only one to remember. I often come up with such situations in Life, where others don’t remember these small things, while I do! Sometimes, I almost doubt my imagination! You know, what if all this is just a figment of my imagination?! Then…. I am truly in the right profession!

This is an excerpt from an email to a group of pals.



Filed under Musings

3 responses to “Gaurav’s Story

  1. Anonymous

    hey , i’m of your ilk too!! i always seem to remember all those teeny meeny incidents that everyone doesnt notice/spare a thought to…this is my first doubts,cool blog.:)-pavithra

  2. Thanx Pavithra! Have you any idea of how happy I am to find someone of the similar ‘flock’??*glee*Do come by, again.

  3. vinu

    it irks, it irritates, its sick when someone dosent recognise you. i guess what it leaves is a room for lot sof unwanted thinking wich either make or break our day…….nice write up.

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