The Perfect Plan

Year 2010 | I’m in grade 7, Daman & the guitar guy are in grade 10 | It’s my first year in this new school, my best friend has a crush on Daman |

After hundreds of rounds to checkout Daman for my best friend, & listening to her talk about him endlessly during our breaks, I felt like going to him straight up to ask him to talk to her. But she asked me not to, so I decided I’ll talk to his best friend.

During our first day of mid-term exams I planned to get a hold of Daman’s best friend, the guy who was from my town & played guitar. I was waiting for him to come to the Matador, I’d planned the whole thing and played it in a loop in my head.

‘He’d come & sit at the back as usual, I’ll sit at the back too, and once he’s there I’ll ask him if he ever noticed us, he’ll obviously say Yes & then I’ll ask him if D is single. Straight question, that’s all.’ I thought to myself.

The ground was full of students, some were running to their buses to get the best seat & save one for their lazy friend, some were starting their bikes & scooties, while the bus drivers stood in a circle talking about weather, politics & the rates of Petrol.

I made sure to come early to the bus stand to secure the last seat. This part of the plan went well. Students kept coming in our matador, for what it felt were hours, but there was no sign of Daman or anyone from his class. Including his best friend. Were they even present today? Or did they leave early? If not, why were they not out yet? Just when my head was about to explode with these thoughts, I saw Chetan, one of their classmates walking out of the main gate. Phew! Atleast they were in school.

The guitar guy….he has a name btw, Ishaan. Ishaan finally came after 10 minutes, his shirt tucked half in his navy blue pants & his jet black hair all over his face. He stood right outside the back of our matador, near the green fence that separated the bus ground from the scooty stand. He was talking to some of his classmates, giggling, probably making fun of someone.

Finally when our driver screamed at everyone for being late, he sat at the back & shut the door of the matador by removing the piece of brick that held it open. The matador started with a bump. And the stereo played “pehli nazar mein” in full volume.

‘Just say Hi’ I thought to myself, while looking at him. He looked back at me, all of a sudden I forgot what I was supposed to do, it was as if words didn’t want to come out of my mouth, like my voice just couldn’t make it through, & so I smiled, awkwardly. He smiled. I smiled again. And then I started looking in the front, calling out a random kid’s name, adjusting my bag, asking the girl in front to play some other song, and my heart started beating so fast I could feel it in my throat.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING!

Why couldn’t I say anything?

That day I sat looking straight out of the window, not responding to any Dumb Charades’ requests by my friends in the Matador, or indulging in any chats. I couldn’t understand anything that was happening around because I was too busy understanding what had just happened. The time taken to reach home had increased 10X and my ears were burning hot by the time Ishaan got off.

I’m gonna try again tomorrow, I thought.

But did I? Stay tuned to know.