It Had To Be You (part 11) AK ff pg 121 4/26/10 - Page 38

What a great start! I like this story 😃 The way you describe their childhood and past...but Im really looking forward to the present as well..so plz do update! Thnxx and keep rocking😃

ple@se ple@se ple@se continue soooooon..........itz been more more th@n @ week😭

PART 5:

They say, 'actions speak louder than words,' but in our case, my words hurt your feelings but your silence broke or rather shattered my heart.

Yes, my first heartbreak.

Strange as it might sound, my first heartbreak was my own doing. No one had dumped me, but I had dumped myself, lied to myself. The moment I hurt your feelings, a cold wall of silence appeared between us. Your smile, words, gestures and actions avoided me like plague for rest of the middle school days. We never spoke another word for the rest of the year. I tried to approach you several times, but you managed to evade my guilt laden advances and apologetic gestures. Finally, my ego and arrogance, which I mistook for self respect, became all important. I gave up and moved on (so I thought.)

Fortunately, this time our parents had no clue of what was brewing between us. Our parents, especially our moms met frequently, but we barely saw each other outside of school. Although, we never met, I know mom and Gayatri aunty frequently talked about us all. How Anita was doing in school, how she was such a chatterbox in class, always being pulled out for 'excessive chatting,' how I was still so 'childish' and so 'messy'- "I pulled out old wet socks from his bag one day Gayatri. I don't know how that boy can stand that stink!"

"Kripa just won the spelling bee Naina! We are so proud of her."

I started going out with other girls once again; showing off my popularity whenever you were around. For some weird reason, I used to think that the more I flaunted myself with other girls, the more you would desire me or want to talk to me again, but as always, I was wrong.

My list of girlfriends grew faster than the population of China, while you stayed busy with your small group of friends, studies, spelling bee, geography bee, math bee, and god knows how many other bees- you were a busy bee! You, with the perfect grades, and me, with borderline grades, just highlighted how incongruous we were. Thanks to my athleticism, natural charm and disarming smile, my teachers and coaches were extremely generous towards me and managed to give me a respectable B in most courses (maybe some Cs.)

HIGH SCHOOL:

My first year in high school is still a blur. Ninth grade was the worst year of my life. Although, high school meant more freedom, choices and options, I felt imprisoned by the seriousness of it all. Suddenly, everyone became serious- serious about their grades and serious about their relationships. Girls, especially the blondes I loved to hang out with, started expecting more than just a date in the school cafeteria or a kiss in the bathroom. They wanted a real date, movies, dinner, expensive gifts and sex! My parents refused to let me take a girl out to the movies all alone. "Angad, agar jaana hai tho group mein jao. You can't go all alone with a girl to a movie theater at this age!" Even dad became strict. I had constant arguments with them and started spending more time alone with my text messages and chat sessions. Something was amiss in my life that I couldn't pin point to. Perhaps it was my Indian upbringing and despite my parent's fears (my expertise with girls was a well known fact even at home), I was not ready to plunge into a full blown (in the physical sense rather than emotional sense) relationship with any of the girls.

To keep myself busy after school, I joined the chess and photography club besides being selected into the varsity basketball team. That left me with little time to ponder over other things. Girls were disappointed but gradually started attaching themselves to other, more willing boys.

I distinctly remember my first day in 10^th grade. I had just turned 16 and had just surpassed dad in height, had started shaving regularly and also developed decent pectorals and biceps thanks to my work out sessions at the school gym. The new freshman (9^th grade) class walked into the hallway. They were all in awe of us experienced high schoolers.

From a distance, I saw you, Aaliya and Prithvi walk towards the lockers.

"Hi Kripa! Hi Aaliya and Prithvi! Welcome to Rockbrook high guys!" I was thrilled to see you all- the kiddie bunch, a name I had coinedfor my childhood friends.

"HI ANGAD!" Aaliya and Prithvi gave me a high five but you just nodded gently and walked away.

"What's up with her?" I shrugged my shoulders, pretending ignorance at your snub.

"I think she doesn't want to talk to you Angad," Aaliya crunched her nose, "did you say something?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, we all know Krips by now, don't we?" Prithvi chuckled, "she takes time to warm up."

"Yeah, with strangers, maybe, but she's known me forever!" I felt slighted, especially as a decent crowd had gathered around us.

"Hey, what's up man?" Josh joined us, "Kripa is still upset with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on man! Remember you insulted her in eighth grade?"

"How do you know? I..I mean'.what do you know?"

"If Matt knows, everyone knows!" Josh laughed.

"That was like a year and a half ago!" I protested, "and who cares? I wish our parents were never friends. Then I would never have to act friendly with that grouch!" I just stomped off in anger. As I walked away, I think I heard Aaliya say, "looks like she really matters to him."

"She always has!" Josh chuckled, "come on guys, let me give you a scenic tour of high school."

"I would love that." Prithvi, in his croaking adolescent voice agreed.

I walked into my class, Josh's words still ringing in my ears- she always has.

Darn Josh! Even he was more perceptive than me. Although Josh and I had developed our own separate identities in high school- me, the jock, the photographer and chess champion and he- the budding scientist and French horn player, time and again, he still managed to influence my mind like he had with our math homework fiasco.

"OK, I guess she is still upset with me," I took a deep breath and vowed to make amends now that we were in high school.

I was pleased to see you at the after school chess club.

"Hey Angad!" Kartik, a senior (12^th grade) at our school and ace chess player yelled, "come play with Kripa. She is a freshman, but boy does she know how to play this game. You are probably the only one who can beat her'come on man."

"Sure!" I flashed a smile at you, hoping you would be up for the challenge- a good way to thaw the larger-than-Greenland-mass-of-ice between us.

"I am sorry, I need to go." You picked your bag and stood up.

"Hey Kripa!" Kartik tried to stop you, "just one game'.you will love playing with him."

"I don't like to play with narcissistic jerks!" With a blaring glare, you left the chess club

SLAP! That felt like one for sure. One and half years of silence was finally broken with a verbal slap that I would never forget all my life.

"OUCH!" Kartik bit his tongue, "what's up with this girl man? Do you know her?"

"Y-yeah!" I hung my head and after some hesitation, "sh-she taught me how to p-play chess," I turned around and left the room, too distraught and flustered at the incident in the chess club. The other students and the chess coach sat still with their jaws to their knees, flabbergasted by the new student who had just torn their best player's ego into pieces.

I took out my frustration on Anita, my homework and my pillow (my punching bag in crucial circumstances.)

NARCISSISTIC JERK! So, is that what I meant to you? I took out the camera you had gifted me and saw the reflection of my tearful eyes in the lens. I had taken several pictures with the camera in the past year and a half, but it was the first time I felt like the camera had clicked my own picture and was mocking at me- narcissistic jerk!

At that moment, I knew that an apology would seem superficial and insincere. You would just reject it and assume I was doing it to appease you because you had insulted me in front of my friends.

What followed was a tedious and painful first trimester at school. We behaved like strangers and while I averted my gaze, you looked through me whenever we passed each other in the hallways. Despite my hesitation, I still managed to steal some furtive glances at your blossoming adolescence. You were the only girl without pimples or make up in school, your eyebrows were thick and not plucked, your long, curly eye lashes and your hair, silky and shoulder length made my heart flutter each time I passed you by. The modest girl in you still hid behind long, thick sweaters or sweat shirts. While other girls tried their best to reveal, you tried your best to conceal.

Surprises come in small packages and from unexpected sources. My surprise came during the middle of my 10^thcertainly not small by any standards. I remember it was the beginning of January 2009. There was a lot of excitement in the air; the whole country was charged at the prospect of history being made in front of their eyes. grade in the form of BARACK OBAMA! Yes, the first black president of the United States-

All the high school students were given an option of submitting an essay or any other piece of their work to the reputed Washington Post newspaper in Washington. The winner of the contest would then be given a chance to attend President Obama's inauguration ceremony in D.C.

My photography coach at school encouraged me to send some of my pictures that I had taken over the summer while coaching basketball to some inner city kids.

"Naa'.I don't think they would care about photographs Mr. Smith. I think an essay or a written piece is what they are looking for. I hate writing'so I am not in for sure!"

"Trust me Angad! Those pictures speak more than any piece of writing'..just do it for my sake Khanna!"

"Well'.all right'.couldn't hurt? I guess worst case they will just shred them like thousands of other entries," I chuckled, downplaying my talent as a photographer. For some reason, since I had been labeled a narcissistic jerk, my self esteem had hit rock bottom and no matter how many three pointers I scored at my basket ball games, I still felt like one.

Mom tried to convince me to write something for the contest, "Angad'yeh photo shoto ka kya karega koi? Your teachers are just fooling you. Why don't you write an essay? Kripa, Aaliya, Josh and Prithvi are all sending their entries!"

"Mom! I hate writing and I am not good at it anyways. Why do you insist that I do everything other kids do?"

"Because I want you to learn from them. Dekhna wo sab ek din badhe hokar badhi badhi jobs karenge, aur tu bas shaadi aur baby showers mein photo leta rahega!"

"So be it mom! Yes, I will become a photographer when I grow up'so?" I just stomped off in a huff. Arguments with mom were getting more frequent and intense by the day. Dad had tried to intervene in the past but lately, had stayed away, as mom and he would inevitably end up with a bigger fight afterwards.

"Aaliya! I really really want to go to D.C! I hope my essay gets selected. Obama is my idol'.and I'd do anything to see him speak live!" The excitement in your voice floated in all the hallways and classrooms at high school. You had earned a reputation for being an excellent writer as was evident by your regular columns in our school newspaper. By the way, I have kept all those cuttings in a box in my attic. I remember I used to pretend that through your columns, you were actually speaking to me because in reality your lips would zip up at my sight.

Even though I had submitted my photographs, and I was a big fan of President Obama, and I wanted to go to D.C, deep down I really wanted you to win. I wanted you to win, not because I wanted to redeem myself for my hurtful actions, but I knew that honor meant a lot more to you than anyone else. You were not one of the popular girls, neither were you considered 'hot' by other boys. I had never seen you surrounded by many friends and hardly ever saw you at after school parties or football games. This was your chance to shine and I really wanted you to shine.

One morning, the principal summoned me to his office.

"Oh..Oh! What did I do now?" That was my first response. Trips to the principal's office in the past had resulted in expulsion, warnings or admonishment for one of my actions.

"CongrKartikations Angad Khanna!" The principal's words and smile threw me off balance.

"I..I think you're mistaken Mr. Peters. Why are you congrKartikating me?"

"Your photographs have been chosen for the Washington Post. That means, you get a free trip to D.C and a front seat at the President's inauguration!"

"No way!" I was blown away, too numb to even respond emotionally at the big news. My parents would finally be proud of their son, was my first thought.

"Yes, Angad! You lucky guy!"

As the news sunk in, I scratched my head and asked, "who was the runner's up?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Well'.can you keep it a secret?"

"Of course."

"Kripa Sharma! Her essay on how Obama was the new face of America in the world was a close second'but she will have to wait for another opportunity."

"No, she won't," I smiled, "Mr. Peters, I forgot'.I have an important basketball tournament that week'.and I can't miss it'.anyways, I was not expecting this award, that's why I signed up for the tournament."

"Well, you can't miss this opportunity Angad. I am sure they can find a substitute for you."

"No Mr. Peters. I can't let my team down. This is a do or die game and if we lose, we don't make it to the league finals. You know how important the league championship is for our school?"

"Are you sure Angad?"

"I am sure and I can always watch the president on TV'who needs to travel all the way?"

"Hmm'.well'I guess I will call the Post and let them know."

"Thanks Mr. Peters."

"Why are you thanking me?" The principal gave me a quizzical look, "Kripa and our basketball team should thank you. You are an amazing person, Khanna! I wish we had more students like you in this school."

"Thanks! That means a lot to me. Can you keep a secret Mr. Peters?"

"Sure."

"Please don't tell anyone'not even Kripa."

"Hmm'.that's a strange request. I thought you would want to flaunt your achievement."

"Naa'.not this time." I shook hands with the principal as he winked at me and promised to keep my secret intact.

A few days before your departure to D.C, your parents hosted a party for all their close 'desi' friends to celebrate your achievement. Mom and dad insisted I accompany them at the party. Perhaps, your achievement would 'inspire' me to accomplish something in life! I had never seen you happier. Dressed in a pink churidaar suit, you stunned all the guests with your elegance and poise at the party.

I have to admit that I couldn't take my eyes off you that evening. Ordinarily, Indian clothes would have never excited me, but seeing you dressed in them, made me realize how 'sexy' those outfits were. They accentuated the right peaks and valleys of a girl's shape, much better than the cleavage revealing, hip hugging outfits that some of my girl friends wore at parties.

"Congratulations! You deserved it." I extended my hand and to my surprise, you accepted it with a warm smile, "thanks." I figured extreme state of happiness is a forgiving state of mind for most human beings. Even as I celebrated a thawing of our relationship, you turned around and hugged Josh, "thanks Josh'.I am so happy you are here."

"Of course Kripa! I'd have never missed your party. You look gorgeous in that pink churidaar!"

My old feelings of hostility and aggression riled up inside me. How dare he praise you like that? I wanted to punch him at the spot as I knew he was lying. I had overheard him criticizing Indian girls in Indian clothes at a recent Diwali function at the temple, "eew Angad'I would never like a girl who wore Indian clothes! They are so frumps man!"

Suryabhan uncle gave a speech on how proud he was that his daughter was the only student chosen from our high school, how this country needed youngsters like you, how we 'desis' were the next ethnic group that would run this country'.blah'blah'blah! As Suryabhan uncle thumped his chest with pride, I noticed that with a mortified expression, you slid away to a corner with your friends. I'd have been thrilled if my parents had publicly acknowledged my achievements but you looked visibly embarrassed. I know I have never been as modest as you.

Josh, Aaliya, Prithvi and even Anita huddled around you, while I stood gazing at you all. At that moment it struck me, somewhere over the past few years, I had drifted away from my 'desi bunch' and as I saw you all giggle and converse comfortably with each other, I felt envious. Josh, the smoothie king had managed to balance his life between his desi and non desi friends, but in my quest to be identified as an American rather than a desi, I had lost that connection with my closest friends, and especially you.

I tried to slip away from the party, but Gayatri aunty stopped me, "beta, where are you going? You can't go without dinner. We have catered from your favorite restaurant."

"Oh really auntie?"

"Yeah, even Kripa likes Macaroni Grill, just like you."

"She does?"

"Yeah, you didn't know?"

"Well, not really." I was thrilled that even if we didn't see eye to eye, we had the same taste buds.

"Waise Angad beta, I love your photographs. You have a natural talent."

"When did you see my photographs?"

"In the school newspaper baba! Kripa keeps all those newspapers."

"Oh," I felt silly, "of course, Kripa write regularly in the paper."

Gayatri aunty gave me a mysterious smile that evening. At that time I didn't quite understand but now whenever I think about it, why do I feel that you kept all those papers for another reason- maybe my photographs?

"Beta, I wish you had your camera today; we could have taken some good group photos. It's been ages since I saw all you friends together."

"Actually, I do auntie." Suddenly, I felt my mood swing from glum to delight.

"Then, what are you waiting for?"

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

I couldn't stop myself and clicked away all evening.

Even Suryabhan uncle gave me a nod of approval, "beta, please email me all these pictures, will you?"

"Of course uncle! That'd be my pleasure."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''.

A few days later, our school stood frozen in front of the TV as President Obama gave his inaugural speech. As the camera zoomed towards the throngs of live audience, we all cheered and waved when they focused on the student's box.

"THERE IS KRIPA!" Prithvi yelled.

"CAN YOU SEE US?" Aaliya screamed

"WE ARE PROUD OF YOU KRIPA!" Someone added.

The brief glimpse of you on TV had elevated you to a star status at Rockbrook High. For a moment, I thought that it could have been me, instead of you. Why did I lose such a golden opportunity? My popularity would have soared to new heights after my appearance on TV.

Naa'.it didn't matter because the joy I felt that day, I'd have never felt even if I was the most popular guy at school.

By the look on your face, I could tell you were in seventh heaven. Who wouldn't be? There it was- history in front of our eyes, an event as important as 9/11 in our lives.

The next evening as I sat with my laptop, downloading all the pictures from my camera, I heard a knock at my door.

"Yeah come in," I never looked up as I thought it might be Anita bothering me again.

"Hi Angad!"

I was shocked to see you at the door.

"Kripa? What are you doing here? When did you get back from D.C?"

"Just this afternoon. I need to talk to you."

"Yeah'sure'come in," I tried to clear up my messy bed, "sorry about the mess."

"That's okay Angad. Why did you do this to me?" You pulled out a copy of the Washington Post and held it in front of my eyes.

"What?"

"The Post editor met with all the students who had won the contest. She told me you withdrew your entry after you had won the contest from our school. I was second."

"Oh..well," I looked away, turned my head guiltily, "I..I had signed up for a basketball tournament this week."

"Liar! There is no tournament this week. You are still here'in your room'.uploading photographs from my party!"

"Ok'fine, I lied, but the real reason was something else." I gave you a sharp look.

"What? You were doing me a favor?"

"NO! Why would I want to do you a favor? I-I hate democrats and I hate President Obama! Of course, I couldn't say that to the principal." I lowered my eyes sheepishly, hoping that you would buy my lies again. The coward in me did not have the guts to admit to the truth- the real truth- that I did it for you.

"You do? How can you hate Obama? He is the best thing that's happened to this country since Kennedy." You were visibly appalled.

"Yeah right! That's what nave, idealists like you think. I am a realist and I know Obama will fail."

"What else could I expect from you Angad? After all, you would never understand the value of being a selfless person. Just like all Republicans, you just think about yourself? Isn't it?"

"Whatever!"

"Whatever!"

And then you left. The door slammed at my face as I stood wondering why I had lied to you once again.

''''''''''''''''

The next morning, I reached school a little earlier than usual. After I had lied to you about the whole I-hate-Obama thing, I remembered that since the election days, a big OBAMA-BIDEN sticker had adorned my locker door. You might have never noticed it before, but I was sure it would be more conspicuous to after our conversation last night.

I tried my best to scrape off the sticker that morning. A tap on my shoulder made me jump.

"You might want to use a wet wash cloth to remove that sticker."

"Kripa? Wh-at are you doing this early?" I was stunned to see you standing behind me.

"I was right then. After I reached home last night, I somehow recollected that I had seen that sticker on your locker. I couldn't wait to confirm my doubts. You know a liar has to keep lying again and again, so why don't you just drop these lies all together?"

"I-I wasn't lying Kripa'.I really don't like Obama. I think someone stuck this sticker to annoy me."

You broke out into a smile and shook your head, "why don't we decide this matter over a game of chess after school? That would be the best way to determine who the real winner is."

"You will play with a narcissistic jerk?" I smiled back.

"Yeah, a narcissistic jerk, who refuses to speak the truth but'." You paused, lowered your eyelids, a faint crimson highlight on your cheeks.

"But what?" I asked softly.

"I will see you at the chess club!" You chuckled and ran as fast as you could.

I stood still, stupefied and dazed by what you had just said and wondered, "does she really hate me or not?"

'.to be contd'.

Great part!!!

awwwwww OMG kripa has a crush (im guessing) on angad
I REMEMBER in high school there were soooooooo many guys who i thought were "perfect" and had crushes on them BUT in the end they all turned out to b JERKS :S
but high school days are the most FUN and memorable days EVERRR :(
i wantt them back
uni life is toooo serious and stressfull :(

gr8 part
i have a feeling something will happen once again and kripa will say angads fav words
:" I HATE U" lol
**i hope not**

OMg that was an awesome update Bheegi..

added my comments on Page 56 😳

OMG!!!! that was EPIC!! amazing onee dii...awww the ending was soo sweettt

Originally posted by: Lilymay

Great part!!!

That was so sweet of Angad to do that for Kripa! I'm so glad, they r talking again.

So it seems both of them are keeping the newspapers (or cuttings) for the other person's work. Aww...so sweet!

Can't wait for the next part....

Just noticed...that I'm the first one to comment..I feel special.

thanks for being the first one Lilmay😊 Yeah, angad really cares for Kripa but is not very good at expressing his feelings😳 Yes, looks like they both are keeping each other's cuttings

Originally posted by: A&K_4Evr-S

awwwwww OMG kripa has a crush (im guessing) on angad
I REMEMBER in high school there were soooooooo many guys who i thought were "perfect" and had crushes on them BUT in the end they all turned out to b JERKS :S
but high school days are the most FUN and memorable days EVERRR :(
i wantt them back
uni life is toooo serious and stressfull :(

gr8 part
i have a feeling something will happen once again and kripa will say angads fav words
:" I HATE U" lol
**i hope not**

Thanks sahr. UR guess might be right altho Kripa has not shown any overt signs of a crush yet😉 Just like angad has not shown either

Actually, college days were IMO the best. HS can be stressful for some😕 Well...let's see if we revert back to I hate you days or not