I was done for. Everyone in my building gave me accusing looks which said I was a pervert. I couldn’t stay there anymore, amidst people who had already damned me without hearing my side of things. I gave up my apartment and shifted to Bandra. My flat is on the first floor, it doesn’t have a balcony and the only thing that I can see from the windows is the boundary wall. Alice had gotten even with me for snubbing her feelings.
The quintessential rebel, that’s how I’d like to describe myself. I lived for fourteen years without caring for a thing. I was free, unbound by conventional laws of teenage proclivities but eventually I fell for what I had always resisted, a girl. What could I do if the forces were beyond my control? I had reinforced my senses but her beauty still captured my imagination. I was in love with her for more than a year now and was finally out of patience. My love was atrophying caged inside my heart. I owed it to the nobility of the sentiment to express it without fear of consequences.
A rebel can’t abide by trivial rules which applied to others. I chose to sit inside the classroom filled with dust when the entire class was wandering outside. The girls were busy sweeping the room. Each day, six or seven students were assigned sweeping duty as per their roll numbers. The seven girls in our class of forty formed one group since it was long established in our school that boys and girls can’t get along. The girls swept the room each Monday and did a good job which allowed the rest of the boys to perfunctorily execute their duties in the remaining days. I observed Anupriya or Anu as I liked to call her, sweeping the dust with disdain. It was a pleasure and a necessity because I needed the inspiration for the poem I was writing for her. I had barely managed to write one stanza which I couldn’t possibly offer as a proof of love. She would probably think I had copied it from an old Reader’s Digest edition. My aim was to write a sonnet, failing which I was ready to compromise with eight promising lines.