By Upendra Mishra
BOSTON — Just before my high school exams, my aunt came to stay with us from our village. In Uttar Pradesh, the High School Board exam is a significant event that often determines a student’s future path.
Having my aunt with us made life easier, especially with her caring nature and the way she took over the cooking responsibilities. She had always looked out for me and, in many ways, became the mother figure I had lost. She had also suffered the loss of her own mother as a child, which made her deeply empathetic to my own sense of absence.
But soon after my exams in Sitapur, life took another unexpected turn. All three of us—my uncle, my aunt, and I—had to move to Lakhimpur Kheri, a nearby district town, where my uncle had been transferred. For me, the move was a bittersweet one. I had become deeply attached to Sitapur. I had made lasting friendships, earned the respect of my peers, and, most importantly, had passed my high school exams in the first division, the only one in my school to do so. Leaving behind all of that felt like a heavy loss.
Still, destiny had a different course in mind. At 16, I enrolled in the local government school in Lakhimpur Kheri for my 11th grade. Around that time, the Bollywood movie Bobby was released, sparking excitement all over town. The younger kids were captivated by it, while their parents feared it would corrupt young minds.
My aunt, ever protective, was convinced that I would never watch Bobby. In her eyes, I was a perfect child, free from any of the worldly temptations that she believed might lead me astray. She had raised me with the belief that I was innocent, and until the day she passed away, she never knew I had secretly watched the movie Bobby, sneaking out with the landlord’s son.
Though my aunt’s love and protection were unwavering, I was entering that age when emotions were at their peak. I was 16, navigating the confusing and intense feelings of adolescence. My aunt, aware of this, was cautious, particularly when it came to girls. She believed that I should focus solely on my studies, and I made a promise to her that I would.
But, as always, destiny had other plans.
I remember one particular incident. A neighborhood girl came over to discuss a biology chapter we had in common. We sat across from each other, talking about schoolwork, when I suddenly felt her foot gently touch mine. At first, I thought it was an accident, but when it continued, I realized it was intentional. My heart raced, and I felt a mix of excitement and confusion—this was the first time a girl had shown such a gesture.
But before I could make sense of what was happening, my aunt stormed into the room. Her anger was swift and fierce, and she quickly ushered the girl out, despite her being the daughter of a close friend. I was left shocked, embarrassed, and, honestly, a little ashamed. I made a promise to my aunt that I would focus on my studies and avoid relationships, which she believed were distractions.
However, fate had a way of testing my resolve.
A few months later, another girl, a year younger than me, started visiting to ask for help with her studies. I wasn’t interested in her romantically, but I enjoyed teaching. Nevertheless, my aunt’s intuition kicked in once again, and before long, she had sent the girl away, convinced that something was amiss. I felt deeply uncomfortable with how things had unfolded.
As the months passed, I remained focused on my studies. The tension between my promises to my aunt and my growing feelings for the girls around me created an internal conflict I didn’t know how to resolve. During this time, I had little contact with girls, as I concentrated on preparing for my final exams.
Each time my aunt chased those girls away, I couldn’t help but wonder: What would my mother have done in that situation? My aunt, with her deeply protective nature, had always shielded me from any distractions she thought might divert my focus from studies. I respected her deeply, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to be explored in those brief, innocent encounters.
Was my aunt too protective? Was she acting out of a sense of love and duty, or was it rooted in the fear of losing me to something outside her control? And then, I would think about my mother—the woman I had lost so early in life. Would she have been different? Would she have let me explore those innocent feelings with the girls I interacted with? Would she have understood the rush of emotions I was experiencing during my teenage years?
These thoughts often lingered in my mind, and even now, decades later, I still find myself wondering if my mother would have taken a more liberal approach, allowing me to experience the world in a way that felt more natural to my age. It’s a quiet question that remains unanswered, a constant source of reflection, as I try to reconcile the love my aunt gave me with the possibility of the love and understanding my mother might have offered.
But destiny, again, found a way to intervene.
One day, a girl from a neighboring school approached me, asking if I could share my previous exam papers with her. I did so, and we exchanged brief pleasantries. She was always well-groomed, and she smiled easily, making her hard to ignore. She had a warmth to her that drew people in, but I stayed true to my promise to my aunt: no distractions, no relationships.
However, one day, I found a letter slipped under my door. It was a handwritten note from the girl, filled with guilt. She had misunderstood a line I had written in one of my exam papers, assuming it was directed at her. I felt both flattered and conflicted. I needed to clear things up, but I couldn’t risk breaking my promise to my aunt.
So, I decided to meet her in secret. One evening, as she walked down the stairs after tutoring the landlord’s son, I waited for her. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt an overwhelming mix of fear and anticipation. When she saw me, she smiled—a smile that eased my nerves and made everything feel calm. It was as if the world slowed down, and for a moment, we shared a silent understanding.
We stood close, and for what felt like an eternity, I simply held her hand. There were no words—just the quiet connection of two people caught in the intensity of the moment. But soon, footsteps could be heard approaching, and we had to part ways.
The next day, I found myself waiting for her again, my heart louder than my footsteps. As she approached, I could feel the magnetism between us, undeniable and powerful. In that fleeting moment, something inside me urged me to kiss her. And so I did—my first kiss. It was a brief, but electrifying moment, filled with a joy I had never known before.
But life moves on, and soon I was off to Allahabad University, leaving behind the town, the school, and, with it, the girl I had shared that unforgettable moment with. I never saw her again. For years, she remained a memory—an unspoken chapter in my life.
Years later, when I returned to the town, I searched for her but found no trace. However, I did meet the two sisters I had once helped with biology. Though the years had passed, nothing seemed to have changed. We reminisced about the past, and for a moment, it felt as if nothing had ever been lost.
In that moment, I realized how much I cherished the innocence of those days, the simple connections, and the love that was shared, even if only for a brief moment. Life had moved on, but those memories—those precious, fleeting moments—would stay with me forever.
Stay tuned to Part-8: When Love Sparks Mini Poetic Stardom.
(Mr. Mishra is the managing partner of The Mishra Group, a diversified media firm based in Waltham, MA. He writes about his three passions: marketing, scriptures, and gardening.)
