Who are you?

07

I was sitting in the academy garden, scribbling something on the last page of my diary, exactly speaking, trying to sketch a unique tree at my front, that caught my attention.

Meanwhile, my mind wondered...

Why didn't you come yesterday?

I'm guessing that you were staying up in the hostel, taking care of your roommate.

You mentioned that day that he was ill.
You are the kind of person to help everyone. So, this 'guess' of mine, kind of fitted well with the circumstance.

I continued wandering and sketching the tree at my front.

I tried focusing on the tree, to sketch out its details. And I noticed that the arrangement of the leaves was different in that tree, from that of others.

Somewhere it had very bushy branches, whereas somewhere the branches were rarely covered with any leaf. That was very different from the other trees in that row. Why might the gardener have done it so?

But yet, together with the leaves it had created an delightful pattern, giving a perfect silhouette to the tree; making it stand out among the others of the same kind.

How come nature is so imperfectly perfect! And how differences make us unique..

The thought made me smile.

While my eyes were observing the tree and the area around it, I found you walking with a pile of books.

Are you present today?!

I quickly picked up my bag, putting my diary and pencil pouch in it.

I called your name "Chandra!!", and you stopped walking and turned around.

"Hey, Chandra..." I greeted you smiling.

"Hello...", you replied with a tiny grin.

"You didn't come yesterday? Is it because of your roommate's health? Is he fine now?"

"Yeah, he is...", you smiled.

"May I help you carry these books?", I asked.

"Hmm...sure, if you're free now..", you replied with a nod.

I felt like you were upset for some reason.
Is it because of your roommate's health?

"Of Course I'm free now. Let me help.", I took some of the books and carried them to the library with you.

Afterwards, I helped you in placing them in their respective shelves.

You were quiet all the time. I never saw you like that.

"Chandra, here I got a poem book, see. 'The words of love', isn't the poem collection you mentioned you like?" I tried to alter your mood.

"I read a few of them, poems from it. They're really beautiful." , I added.

You looked up at me, smiled and nodded.

Why are you so quiet today?

"And the fourth poem is my favourite so far, I guess." I tried to grab your attention back.

I didn't want to see you sad. Maybe the poem will lift up your mood.

I know you love literature.

" 'The treasure I have is you', is that the one?", surprisingly you got involved in the conversation.

Hence, I followed the que.

"Yes, that one.", I smiled.

You lifted up some books and began searching for their numbers, placing them on their respective shelves.

"Which's your favourite part in the poem?", you asked out of the blue.

But, your eyes were still fixed on the books.

Your question made me look into the book, and I knew which was my favourite line.

The one that got my attention the most, back when I read it for the first time.

"This one...", "The third stanza...", I said looking at you.

You shifted your gaze from the shelves to me.
"Can you read it out for me?", you asked. And why would I not?

I'd love to read it for you.

"Sure..", I smiled and began reading the fourth stanza.

" 'If I could tell you, who are you to me;
I wouldn't say that you're my lover, not even my soul mate, nor my life.
Instead,
You are me.

You are divine.
You are the purity that I breathe.
The feelings that I feel.
The moonlight that touches me from afar,
The Goddess in the altar.
My love, let me love you
Let me love you.' "

I finished reading and I found you paused in your position. You stopped placing the books.

And then you looked at me, "You know, it's my favourite part too...", a smile followed your words. Your dimples igniting my soul.

I love to see you smile.

"Really? That's great Chandra...", I smiled.
A full smile.

"I really liked how the poet described their lover as nothing but themselves, and also as something divine and as a Goddess. That's really beautiful...", I continued the discussion.

You nodded. "You too in your poem, mentioned viewing your loved one as nothing but yourself.."

You remembered it.

"Yeah..", I smiled, "I'm glad that you remembered."

You smiled back. "Yes, I do Preet..."

And then, after completing the book arrangement, you placed your bag on the table and said you had some work.

"...Just some data to fill in the library registry...", you told.

You asked me if I could help and I happily agreed. I didn't have any classes then and spending time with you is always the best thing.

You assisted me, and I began filling the entries as you told me. Soon we were both engrossed in writing.

Time passed, and there came the time to close the library.

We packed up everything and placed the registers in their respective drawers, properly.

After which we both left for home. I mean, hostel and home.
You lived in a hostel, I forgot.

"Thank you for your help Preet. Because of you, it's almost done.", you mentioned with a smile and your dimples flashed up.

You don't know how much I love them, your cutest dimples. They are something to die for.

And what's better?
This was a happier smile than the morning ones.

You seemed so much better now.

Stay such always Chandra! Keep smiling...

"Always welcome Chandra!", I smiled back.

By then we reached the academy gate. "Bye, see you tomorrow.", you said.

"See ya, and..."
"Tell him to get well soon, your roommate.", I said with a grin.

Your brows came closer.

Why did you seem confused at my assertion?

"O-Oh...yah yah...sure.", you fumbled in between.

Why are you fumbling?

Out of curiosity,  I asked, "Chandra, I never asked you which hostel you live in?"

A sheepish grin framed your lips.

"U-Uhh.. I mean Green Residence, road no. 45."

You are fumbling again, are you nervous about something?

"Oh..."

Don't know why, but I felt it again, like you're hiding something.

Or maybe...

It's just my subconscious, bombarding random intuitions at wrong times, again.