Because you’ve watched Telemundo a lot and Bollywood has taken over your video playlist, you are convinced every true love story begins with a collision, a trip and then a crashing into; a moment of slight awkwardness. You believe there must be a heightened moment before two people fall in love, where in split seconds –after a gaze held –they fall in love, hopelessly in love. Perhaps an imminent clash at a destined junction; you coming out of the cafeteria with a can coke in hand and she from the library with sheets of paper. Boom! A collision, her papers are soaked in coke. Your face drenched in splendid apology. Her face squeezed by anger. Or perhaps a more dramatic scene; a stray hand falling on a soft breast, Then that familiar slap that follows next. You believe this; love erupts from awkward scenes.
You see her coming with a cake hidden in its carton. She’s beautiful, offensively beautiful. Beauty that looks you in the eye and stares you down. She’s black, soft black. The black that could easily pass as cream chocolate. Her legs are a slender pair and each step she takes, brings her closer to you. All you can think about now is; how to trip, to crash into her, to create a moment. Should you entangle your legs and collapse on her, on her cake? That will be a disaster, “a staged disaster” one you can now clearly see its benefits:
“…You, in her hostel, outside her room. Knocking gently, whispering how sorry you were. How she ought to give you a chance to make it up to her, to at least get her a new cake. That you crashing onto her, smoldering her birthday cake was simply an unforeseen tragedy. You will pause here and smile small. You’ve been at her door for almost four hours begging. Now you believe her mind will slowly be divulging from yesterday’s tragedy; her cake… To how persistent you are. How charmingly persistent you are. They usually come around after a bit of reasonable persistence. You smile a confident smile…”
At this point you are jerked back to reality, by a sharp perfume gliding pass you. You were in hibernation –coming out of it quite late –she had already passed you. Too late, your feet is entangled and you are crashing…
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