Pehla Nasha: 'My first V-Day gift cost Rs 20!'

It may all seem a little funny now and may mean nothing to you beyond a fond memory, but it's fun reminiscing all about your first love!

With Valentine's Day coming up, we invited readers to share stories of their first loves with us. Here is the first set of responses!

First up we have Aryama Dutta Saikia's bittersweet tale of a schooltime crush:

Remember how it felt when the love bug bit you for the very first time, when you were in school -- when you had that constant breathless feeling, when the butterflies in your stomach used to turn violently against you whenever you saw the object of your affection, when you used to become the happiest and luckiest person on earth when you got a smile from your love? This feeling of childhood love is very difficult to replicate later in life when we become cynical, practical and objective. So, if you didn't fall in love as a kid, you surely missed out on something very precious!

I remember my first love -- I guess I always will. It happened when I was in Class VIII, and the boy was in Class IX. Every morning, during prayer time, he used to stand in the queue next to mine and smile at me when he was supposed to be praying. He was a pretty boy with a pretty smile and I used to smile back at him. One day, after a couple of weeks of this to and fro smiling, he walked up to me in the school playground and introduced himself. He had a pretty name too! I started to introduce myself but he stopped me, saying that he already knew me. The bell cut us short and we walked back to our respective classes together.

The next day, I was looking forward to seeing him at the morning prayers, and was slightly disappointed when he didn't come to school. In fact, he didn't come to school for two-three more days. By this time I had, of course, told my friends that I like this boy. So, each day a few of us would scan the prayer hall to locate the boy. When he didn't come to school the whole week, we were in a state of panic. And, for the first time in my life, I experienced that sinking feeling of desperation that is usually associated with love -- of course, I didn't know it at that time.

My very resourceful friends started their own private investigation. One of them discovered that he lived near our school. In fact, his house was on the way to mine. After school, as we walked slowly by his house, I was even more depressed to see a huge lock on the gate. The next day was a Sunday and for the first time in my life, I wanted to go to school on a holiday! Another first -- I had a sleepless night. I kept asking stupid questions to my table lamp -- "Did he leave school?" "Will he come again?" "Maybe he left the town because he didn't like me?"

On Monday, as I waited in the prayer room, I was too dejected to look around for him. And then suddenly, I heard his voice -- he was saying 'hello' to me. There was sunshine in my life again. He told me that his sister who lived in a nearby town was unwell and his family had gone to visit her. I was courteous enough to ask him how his sister was doing. He said she was fine and then we both fell into this uncomfortable silence. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he said the three most beautiful words in this world, "I missed school" (????). I replied,"Me too." That was my very first foot-in-mouth moment (before I forget, let me tell you that falling in love for the first time leads to a lot of other first-time experiences).

Luckily, the headmistress came to my rescue as she called for silence. During our lunch break, he caught up with me in the corridor -- "I missed school because not coming to school meant not seeing you." All I could think of was, "Okay". The day was not yet over and I had my second foot-in-mouth moment! When I narrated this to my friends, they thought I behaved most unromantically. They went into damage control mode and started giving me advice on how to reply to his statement. Oh, by the way, my friends were convinced that he had proposed to me with that statement. After spending one whole Social Studies class whispering to one another, we decided that I should now approach him and initiate conversation.

So that day, after school we waited at the school gate so that I could walk with him. After some time, he came to the gate surrounded by a few boys. There we were -- surrounded by friends and both groups stealing glances at each other. He continued to talk to his friends and I decided to go home, since my mother would have killed me if I had gotten late. As I was walking away, from the corner of my eye, I saw him saying quick goodbyes to his friends and sprinting to catch up with me. We walked in silence for some time. Then he asked very matter-of-factly, "You do know that I like you...yes?" I said, "Yes, I guessed." He continued, "I am a good boy with no bad habits. I like to play cricket and watch TV. I play the guitar. I am fairly okay in studies. I want to be a lawyer when I grow up. Abid and Bibhu are my best friends. So, do you like me?" That was a lot of information to take in at one go. All I could manage was a whispered, "I have to go. I am already late." He said, "Then say YES. That's short. It won't take much time." I laughed. Of course, I didn't remind him that 'no' was equally short! He gave me a ear-to-ear grin when I said YES. That's the moment I have always associated with him, whenever I think of him.

I spent the next few months on cloud nine. Pity there wasn't a cloud 100 or a cloud zillion -- I would have been there too! We would talk at prayer time, between classes, during the lunch break and at the school gate after school. Every time I saw him, I would be filled with unbridled happiness. I could not stop smiling in school and at home. I would spend most of the boring classes day-dreaming about him. It was during this time that I watched Maine Pyar Kiya seven times. Everything around me seemed beautiful. The world was indeed a perfect place to live in. But as the school year came to an end, we started growing sad, since we would not be seeing each other for a whole month of winter vacation. During those days, we didn't have telephones and e-mails and we were too scared of our respective parents to write letters. So we parted for the vacation with promises to think of each other every waking hour -- and we actually kept that seemingly impossible promise.

Once school reopened, there was the excitement of Valentine's Day -- my first V-Day. My friends and I had a tough time coming up with a 'safe' gift. You see, the gift should be such that his family should not be able to guess that it came from a girl. Moreover, Namrup being a small town, everyone knew everyone else. So, I could not buy anything that looked remotely romantic. So, 'love you' cards, teddy bears or anything with the word 'love' anywhere near it was a strict no-no. Also, there was the problem of budget -- I had only Rs 20. After weeks of planning, I finally decided to give him an Amul chocolate. Remember the punchline of Amul chocolate ads -- 'a gift for someone you love'? Very intelligent, huh? So, on V-Day, I gave him the carefully wrapped Amul chocolate. He opened the wrapper, started laughing and said,"Open your gift." I opened the gift that he had given me and it was an Amul chocolate too! As it turned out, our friends were not innovative at all. The whole school was giving Amul chocolates as V-day gifts and yes, everyone had the very same logic! We had a great laugh as we ate the two Amul chocolates together. Chocolate never tasted sweeter.

That school year was very important for him as he was in Class 10 and board exams were a huge deal in our school. As teachers started piling homework on him, we started spending less and less time together. He was under a lot of pressure from his family to do well in the exams. His father was retiring that year and they were moving to Guwahati. To get admission in a good college in Guwahati, he needed to get high scores in his exam. As the school year progressed through September, I saw less and less of him. And, then the last day of the school year came. There was a farewell party for his batch as they were leaving school. We talked for a long time. I wished him good luck for his exams. After his exams, he and his family were leaving town. After he left, we wrote to each other a couple of times. But writing at friends' addresses was always risky. In his last letter, he told me that he did very well in his Class 10 exams and that he was planning to join one of the good colleges in Guwahati. Slowly, as I got busy with my Class 10 exam preparations and he got busy with his college life, we drifted apart and finally, lost touch.

Years later, when I heard of his death from hepatitis, I remembered the last conversation we had. It was on the day of the farewell party for his batch. I had asked him,"Will we meet again? I don't know what the future is going to be like." He had said,"The future? I don't even know what tomorrow is going to be like! I am just happy to be with you now." Then, as I sat in my hostel room in REC Nagpur, more than six years after I had that conversation with him, a sudden sadness engulfed me and I found myself sobbing.

Illustration: Uttam Ghosh

Share your 'First Love' stories with us! Write in to us at getahead@rediff.co.in (subject line: 'My First Love'). You can also include a photograph and we'll publish the best entries right here on rediff.com!

'I was this plump boy, fixated on books and geekily following her about!'

Next is Raj Malhotra's experience:

I had my first crush on a girl sitting a couple of rows away from me at school in Delhi.

I always stared at her, watched her from the corner of my eyes, but never had the courage to talk to her in school.

She was sweet, talking to everybody, bubbly and I was this plump boy, fixated on books and geekily following her. School went by fast, nothing happened. But fate had something different in store for us -- we ended up landing at the same engineering college.

I tried to talk to her, but she was always surrounded by her friends; tried to get to know her better but she was always busy. Finally I got up the courage and wrote an e-mail to her, (even though she was still sitting a couple of rows away!), but that's all the courage I had. And then I managed to ask her out for dinner on the pretext of my birthday treat. We just had noodles and a pizza, but it was the best meal ever.

Eventually, we ended up seeing each other for close to five years. The Valentine's Day I remember best was the one where I ended up taking her to a small dhaba with five or six of my friends, and not even realising my mistake! She, as always, was very sweet and never let me know till about a year later how irritated she was by it.

Don't ever worry about making mistakes in love, because the more one worries, the more mistakes are bound to be made!

Illustration: Uttam Ghosh

'It was as if a million stars were bursting in splendour as I joined him on the dance floor!'

Heera Nawaz has fond memories of her first love:

Teenage years are some of the most happy-go-lucky, colourful and trigger-happy years of one's life. Of course, they have a flip side, too, being such a tumultuous time as one is neither a child nor yet a grown-up and still, one is expected to make adult decisions (like a choice of career and possibly a marriage partner)!

However, one advantage I can vouch for is that adolescence gives one the opportunity and chance to fall madly and deeply in love for the very first time. Here is a true account of my 'first love', which was at a very confusing and perplexing time of my life.

It happened when I was nearing my sweet sixteenth birthday on June 14, 1976. I was a shy introvert, yet I wrote the most profound and prolific poetry, way beyond my years. I was exhilarated that I shared my birthday with yet another teenage writer, Anne Frank, whose diary has captivated teenagers the world over.

Like Anne Frank, I, too, fell intensely and hopelessly in love with a 17-year-old teenager, who can be described as every teenage girl's dream come true. He was the quintessential teenager -- tall, dark and handsome, he wore glares and drove a groovy motorcycle. My brother, who was his classmate in college, once reiterated that the qualities a teenage girl looks for in a possible boyfriend are good looks, wealth and an absence of brains! Well, if those were the criteria, this tall Casanova certainly fitted the bill!

I met him at a club, which I reiterate is NOT the most romantic of joints! But there I was, na ve and untouched by the vagaries of the world, where I fell even harder for him, because I thought that a handsome teenager so engrossed in helping others, when he could be at a party or discotheque, was the most romantic of propositions!

Unfortunately, though, the guy usually makes the first move -- in this case, he never did. In retrospect, I now feel that I should have been more vocal and open about my feelings, but I was scared of possible rebuttal and rejection.

On June 30, 1976, however, all of that changed. That evening, there was a social being held at our old school, Bishop Cottons in Bangalore. These parties were held so that the teenage boys and girls of the school could socialise with each other.

The huge party hall was dimmed, while colourful lights flashed on and off on the dance floor. Loud music was played, particularly the songs popular in the '70s -- the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, The Carpenters, The Seekers and Elvis Presley. The air was rife with excitement as the dance floor slowly filled with couples.

It was then that I saw him. All suited and booted, he approached me saying, "Heera, care to join the floor?"

That was the first time a teenage boy had ever spoken to me and I felt truly euphoric! My heart raced and started pounding with excitement. It was as if a million stars were bursting in kaleidoscopic splendour, as I joined him on the dance floor. We danced for barely an hour, but to my love-struck stance, that was probably the longest hour of my life!

After the party was over, the school played its song, 'Nec Dextrorsum, Nec Sinistrosum' and it was time to say adieu. In the gathering darkness and crowd, I realised that I could not locate the friends I had come with. On seeing this, my knight in shining armour, true to helping a damsel in distress, offered me a lift home in his car. I was verily on cloud number nine! My eyes shone like diamonds as I stepped into his car and we drove along Bangalore's deserted streets.

Unfortunately, after that we never did see each other. I joined Mount Carmel College, Bangalore, while he continued his studies at Christ College. We got engrossed in our individual worlds and did not even meet for a rendezvous or a date. Sometimes, I think back to those memories of bitter-sweet, trigger-happy 'first love' -- when life was a problem one had to solve, life was a game one had to play and when one didn't quite know how to react to a first love. Ah, life!

'We kept dancing and moved closer to each other...'

Here are Gaurav Kumar's reflections:

I had rehearsed it over and over again. The plan was simple enough, although its execution required 5 percent meticulous care and 95 percent luck.

To avoid any last-minute adrenaline rushes and hiccups, I reached the restaurant 20 minutes earlier than the time we had agreed upon. She had agreed to go there on a date with me after a lot of persuasion. While my friends roamed around the city hand-in-hand with their girlfriends, I was still bound to my cellphone. My past experiences had taught me to be patient and I was trying to follow the same when it came to her. However, tonight was an opportunity. She too seemed
mellowed by my righteous demand for a date and had agreed -- finally. I had decided to break the jinx. The plan was simple -- have a candle light dinner, followed by champagne and a little dancing, which was all intended to
blow her mind.

She arrived sharp on time and to my amazement, carried a huge handbag. Girls and their accessories! But rather than looking at them, I tried concentrating on her. Damn, she looked beautiful. The extra bit of kohl on her eyes was prominent and I could have stared for ages. She had tied her hair in a casual bun, leaving a few stray strands loose, which ruffled in the soft breeze that blew around us.

A sudden yell almost broke my concentration. It was her, complaining how unhygienic the food was that the restaurant served. I was taken aback by this claim, as I felt it was one of best one around. She went to narrate the story of how one of her team members at the office fell ill after consuming the food when they had visited the last time around.

It's easier meddling with your boss than interrupting your girlfriend (or negating her claims). In addition, I had no plans to mess up a wonderful night. So I looked into her questioning eyes and wondered, what next? She uttered, "Why not go to your place?" I had no idea what her intentions were, but I was dumbstruck and the stars around me seemed to transpire and conspire all in my favour. The champagne and dancing became plans of the past. Before I could realise the turn of events, she signalled an auto and we hurried to my place.

When we arrived, I rushed in to put things in place and offered her a chair. We both sat around my small circular table and I looked into her blue eyes for the nth time. It was then that she reached into her handbag and carefully took out a vodka bottle. While she went in to fetch glasses and cold drinks, I moved the table to the balcony and lit a candle to create a dim but beautiful candle light effect. We sat opposite each other, but close enough so that out legs intertwined.

She poured my drink and hers too. There was a mild breeze, which ruffled her long and soothing hair along my face. I closed my eyes to take in the aroma. I knew she noticed this and opened my eyes the very next second. We spoke and giggled for the next few minutes and I could feel the blood rush though my cheeks. We raised a toast and gulped the drinks. Slosh went the first drops of vodka down our throats, adding colour to our skins and accelerating the
adrenaline rush.

Maybe it was the vodka, but we intertwined our fingers together to finish off the rest of the drink with our eyes gazing into each other's. Before it could go any further, I remembered the KFC chicken I had ordered that morning -- it was still fresh. I asked her if she'd like dinner and she readily agreed. I took her hands into mine casually, slid off my chair and helped her up in perfect gentlemanly fashion. We held hands for just a tiny moment and proceeded to our dinner, still happy and with increased romance, although we were decent enough not to jump at each other.

We barely had a piece of chicken, when she stood up and asked me to put on some music. She trembled as the alcohol started taking effect. I rushed to prevent her from tripping up. Incapable of doing anything, she put her hand across my shoulders. I felt a sudden gush of hormones, but enjoyed the angel, the woman of my life, whom I loved and hated to eccentric limits, in my arms. She started making moves which seemed more of a slow dance. The dance was more of a trance with eyes unwavering and lips in an involuntary smile. I caressed my fingers along her rougeless cheeks. The night continued with all of our favourite tunes, flowing smooth like that slosh of liquor in our blood. We kept dancing and moved closer to each other and seemed to cross all barriers when her phone rang.

The shrieking ringtone brought us back to our senses. She took the call to find her mother at the other end. She finished her call and asked me to drop her home. Embarrassed by my earlier moves, I hurriedly called a cab and dropped her home. She asked me stay back for some time and we strolled along the desolate road, gazing at the stars. She told me how beautiful her evening had been and thanked me for making all the effort. Before I could head back home, she gave me a peck on my lips that literally swept me off my feet. I jogged all the way back home and was shocked to get a "Love you, sweetheart, and yeah, am not drunk" text from her .Till date, that night remains the best one I have ever had.

Illustration: Uttam Ghosh

'While love stays with me for life, fate walked away!'

And finally, Ravinder Malhotra chose to send in his story, which reads like a poem:

My First Love

Love came to me one day
And knocked on my door
I was only thirteen then
Had not known it before.

Who are you, I asked amazed
And lent a patient ear
I am love the world longs for
You have nothing to fear.

It whispered in my ear a name
That left me in turmoil,
I pondered over the name again
There was much to smile.

It was a name that I had known
I knew from where she rode,
Forth to school then back again
To her father's abode.

Sitting by the fireplace
I gazed into the flame
Saw her pretty face appear
Then vanish once again.

The chiseled chin, the funneled nose
Topped with misty eyes
Deeper into the flame I looked
The more she mesmerised.

Now the restless nights I spent
Were different than before
On paper I would write and match
Love, Like, Hate, Adore!

In different ways I spelt my name
And hers sometimes too
But love for us never matched
Try as much I do.

Is it destined to be so?
Should I take the cue?
That fate could take her elsewhere
Far away from you.

Undeterred, I swore my love
In ways the best I could
As girl to woman she transformed
I knew she understood.

Oh she was a stunning lass
Her contours did reveal
Would often pedal around her house
A glance of her to steal.

I thought she did betray some signs
Of what she had in mind
A sideways glance, a hesitant smile
Oh further it did me bind.

But love and fate being strangers
Each had its own way
While love stays with me for life
Fate walked away!

Illustration: Uttam Ghosh

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