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What Is Love?


ii

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EDUCREATION PUBLISHING

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Website: www.educreation.in __________________________________________________

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Printed in India


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What Is Love?

Maybe I'll Find Out...

Anubhav Singh

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING (Since 2011)

www.educreation.in


iv


v

Acknowledgement

Behind every accomplished work, there are a

number of helping hands. I too was helped by many

generous people.

This thanking list cannot even be started

without thanking Sagrika Mukul, who was the

kindest to support me and helped me on every step

of writing this book. If she would not have been

there, this book would have been completed two

months earlier.

I would also like to thank my elder brother

Sunny Singh for being the strongest support by my

side. Being his younger brother, I know that if I fall,

he would always be there to pick me up.

This list would also be incomplete without

thanking Kanika Tomar and Khushi Bansal, who

have always proved to be very trustworthy people

by my side. Everything that annoyed me, they were

always up with a solution for it.

A warm thanks to Nivedita Raj for always

reminding me to finish the book.

There are many others who have helped me in

finishing this book in some way or the other. They

are Muskan Agarwal, Anuj Arora, Saba Qamar,

Prakhar Varshney, Meghna Sharma, Riya Bansal,

Simran Kaur, Prabhjot Kaur, Sahil and Aashi.

Above all, I want to thank my parents. It was

their production that I have been able to write this


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book. Without them, there would have been no me

and no such book. This acknowledgement would

also be incomplete if I do not thank Ashmeet Kaur.

She has always inspired me, encouraged me and

apart from this, without her assumptions and

ideologies, this story would have never been

finished. Thanks to all of you and also to the ones

whose names I have forgotten to mention.

And to the ones whose names I have

mentioned, I am waiting for the cheques!!

X


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P To the cutest smile

in this world...

P


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P Love like there is no tomorrow.

And if tomorrow comes....

Love again...

P


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What Is Love?

1

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“Spending money on you is just a waste”, my

mother taunted me. I was standing along the wall of

the drawing room in complete silence without even

moving my eyebrows a bit. I was back from

parents’ teachers’ meeting with my father and my

father had been told that I have failed in class 11.

My parents were having a discussion about my

future and hundreds of questions were being

bombarded on me each minute. But I found this

funny because although the questions were being

asked to me, but before I could answer them, they

themselves gave their opinions as answers. Actually

they were not interested in my choice, they were

more likely to fulfil their desires.

Thankfully, the discussion ended with the

conclusion that I would opt for commerce, leaving

the science stream which I had earlier gone for

under the influence of my parents.

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Anubhav Singh

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I was happy that I was going for commerce but

the thought of sitting in a class with my juniors was

kneeling my confidence under fear.

Failing in an academic year is not a big deal.

The big deal is to stand back, to face the thousands

of laughing faces. In the Indian society, people

make difference between the failures and the

achievers. They believe that if a person has failed

once, then that person is basically useless. Their

behaviour towards such people changes. They look

down towards them as if they are inferiors. Same

kind of fear was acquiring a major part of my

thoughts. I wanted to go back to my old school from

where I had come to this school through the sports

quota. I was accusing my old school for not having

+2 in it. But now I could not do anything except

preparing for the school.

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What Is Love?

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On the first day of my new session, my feet were

crawling through the crowded corridors of the

school to reach my class room. As I entered my new

classroom, I came across a dozen of familiar faces

merged in the rest four dozens of unrecognised

faces. My feet accelerated as I walked towards the

last bench of the class. In my way, many of them

watched me walking and thought, “Now who is

he??” And I, with similar thought, headed towards

my seat, “Why the hell are these idiots staring at

me??”

As the first day of the school took its pace with

teachers coming and going as their periods got over,

I got a feeling that the two years I have to spend

here will not be easy for me. Moreover I realised

that two days later, externals would join the school.

It was likely to happen that few of the externals

would be from my old school and they would

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Anubhav Singh

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recognise me as their senior. I wanted to run away.

Fuck this place.

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What Is Love?

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Externals were in and three of them were from my

old school, all three were girls. Before I could even

recognise any of them, one of them waved towards

me. Damn! Help me oh lord! Where are you?? She

is Devisha. A well built girl-she is tall, healthy and

cute. Her physique and voice would get anyone say,

“Why the hell this guy is dressed like a girl??”

But thankfully, she was the only one who

knew me. Both of the other girls were completely

different from Devisha. One was thin, beautiful girl.

Her name was Shanaya and the other one was a

coloured girl with loose fitting clothes, Sara.

Devisha and Sara were not my concerns. My eyes

were attracted to the beautiful smile of Shanaya.

That day I was sitting on the last bench while

she was in the middle rows, three or four seats

ahead of me. All three were talking with a guy who

was sitting behind them. I didn’t actually know

why, but I wasn’t able to take my eyes off Shanaya.

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Anubhav Singh

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Her narrow eyes were magical. When she smiles,

she can win a competition without competing. Her

cuteness overflows from her eyes and it can be

noticed from kilometres. Her endless beauty is a

sight worth watching. I wanted to talk to her. I

wanted to know more about her. But in this

situation, it was hardly possible.

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What Is Love?

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I left my thoughts about her and was back to what I

was here for. I was trying to do as much good in

studies as I could. But initially, I faced some bad

days. People were interested in knowing why and

how was I here. It was clear that I had failed but

they wanted to hear it from me. Idiots. I wasn’t that

Ansh that I used to be, might be because I was

being affected by these things a bit too much. These

things can affect anyone. It is a human tendency to

get affected by what others think about them.

Devisha was the only one with whom I was

familiar. She is a nice, cheerful girl with a top-class

brain. She often gave her copies to me so that I

could complete my work and could study without

wasting my time. It was her copy that gave me the

chance to build up a conversation with Shanaya.

Devisha’s economics copy was with me and the

very next day we had to submit it. I completed my

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Anubhav Singh

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work and then handed Devisha’s copy to one of my

classmates whose real name was not known to me. I

used to call him what everyone called him, Tunnu.

He is a short-heighted buddy with big teeth. When

he smiles, his upper jaw jerks out of his mouth and

a thin line of nerve shouts on his forehead. But

above all, his hair are the real attraction for the

crowd. They resemble the hair of a boy-cut Barbie

doll.

After ten minutes, Akash showed up. He is

another classmate of mine. His arrival was

predictable. I knew he had come for economics

copy so I gave him mine.

That very night, when I was sitting in my room

and serving online, a message took my attention.

The message read “Hey! I need your help.”

This message took my attention, not because

someone was asking me a favour, but because the

sender was Shanaya. I understood that this was the

breakthrough I needed. I replied her yes and then a

message flashed which left me thinking that I need

one more break please! She asked me to send the

photos of the economics copy. Why

God??Why??Why do you love to juggle me?? But

my fiendish brain took command of the situation

and I knew that it’s a nice chance to start going with

her. Then I don’t know what happened and I gave

her a foolish reply that my camera is not working

properly. In which world does a guy give these

types of excuses?! Couldn’t I think of something

better?! But no, welcome to my world where I make

bad situations, hell!


What Is Love?

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Luckily, my blunder did not mess things up.

Instead we started chatting online. For sometime, I

was confused about who was she in her cover

picture because both-she and her sister looked

absolutely the same, although they were not twins.

Then Shanaya told me which one was she.

Shanaya belonged to a Sikh family and was the

smallest in the three sisters. Her beauty was

something she had inherited from her mother. Her

puffed hairstyle made her a bit more charming. She

was slim with an oval-shaped face. Cuteness

remained overloaded on her face. And her uneven

teeth added more points to it. When she walked, she

used to attract everyone’s attention. She was not

like everyone. There was something very different,

very special about her, something which was

attracting me towards her-a bit more each day.

Most of my time was being spent in the class.

Even in the recess time, I used to remain in the class

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Anubhav Singh

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because of the very fact that if I would move out

and go social, they would start asking me about my

failure. And this question had proven to be the

toughest one to me. In this world of vast and

diversified theories about endless topics, the only

question I avoided was this one. How did I fail? I

could even have answered that why is melody so

chocolaty, but buddy...not this one please! Although

this swollen nerve was often touched by many;

many unknowingly, few knowingly.

So to avoid such things I preferred to stay in

the class everyday during the break too.

Most of the days people could easily spot me

eating Shanaya’s lunch. I don’t know why but if

you get a tasty lunch during the recess, it tastes

hundred times better than it usually would. While

my lunch contained chapattis and some typical

Indian curry, Shanaya’s lunch was always full of

different dishes. Shanaya was actually blessed by

such things.

In a few days I started noticing a dozens of

hands in her lunch. I could feel the uncomfortable

expression conquering her face. Soon I noticed her

escaping from the class in order to have her lunch. I

didn’t stop her. I let her move out, although

sometimes I would go hunting for her in the whole

school, find her and eat her lunch up.

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What Is Love?

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