I believe that I am a hopeless romantic. My life led me into a hopeless, but practically romantic journey. Coming from a filmy family, I grew up dancing to Madhuri Dixit’s songs, mimicking Sridevi. I always thought I would fall in love with a ‘hero’, although I didn’t quite know what that meant.
I went to a boarding school for my 11th and 12th classes after my father’s death. I had a penfriend then. It felt easy to talk to or write to him. Yes, I am from that generation; we used to write letters. We didn’t have mobile phones or the internet. I found comfort in the idea of this person, someone I crafted in my mind. The comfort of loving an idealised version made the long-distance relationship bearable.
It was a long-distance relationship. After school, I met him a few times, and he wasn’t the person I fell in love with. It’s not his fault; I was dreaming about my own version of him. I broke up with him, but kept my love for my version intact.
After three years and 17 jobs, I found myself working as an assistant director in a production house. Due to some complicated family circumstances, I decided to work after 12th, instead of pursuing further studies. Work helped.
This was the time when Orkut was in our lives. One day, I received a message in my scrapbook complimenting my photo from a shoot during my TV anchoring days. Let’s call him ‘S’. We started chatting, and he sounded very intelligent. I was trying not to create an image of this person in my head. It was tough not to meet the person in my mind. The internet, back then, felt like a safe space. I didn’t need to deal with a human in flesh and blood. We never spoke on the phone either. It wasn’t necessary.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der February 21, 2024-Ausgabe von Outlook.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der February 21, 2024-Ausgabe von Outlook.
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