Remembering Elsie

There're times when one's reminded of the past quiet unexpectedly. Here was me chatting with an old friend from school and he mentioned Elsie. He asked me: "Po, do you still remember Elsie?" And here I'm thinking about Elsie when I'm least expected to.

Yup, I remember Elsie. She was a pale frail girl with a round face, big brown eyes and plaited hair parted into two. I don't remember talking to her, ever. I don't think I know how she sounds. She looked kind of cute, forlorn and deep. I'm always intrigued by women who have a distant look in their eyes the same way I'm drawn to plump and curvy women, I think.

And this was not the first time somebody reminded me about Elsie, mind you. Four times I might have met friends from my old school. And all four of them remembered Elsie when they met me. The ways of life are strange, that's all I can say. Or, ya, I know, where ever I go, people associate my name with the name of some girl from the locality. Hope you got what I mean. No, please don't brand me a jerk or a womanizer. It's not the way you think. I realized this strange thing when Unni told me once. She was teasing me about some woman from the place where we first met. Later I found out that she really believed I was after them. Everybody there were making stories about me and these two women, stories spicy, hot and as they wished and could imagine. And the greatest thing's I'd never even talked to them, even for once. Somehow, I still wonder, no one from that place seems to know how far me and Unni have gone.

As I told you, most of these women were people with whom I'd never even interacted, let alone going on a date. And I come to know about the gossips doing round only after I'd left the place, when a friend of mine from that place asked me if I'm still in touch with this cute ass or that. The funny thing is, no one seems to know the women I was really in touch with when I'm somewhere.

But, Elsie is different. Though I would never talk to her, I hadn't failed to notice her. No, I never used to stare at her or anything. The primary school kid that I was, you tell me how much I could have possibly known about staring and stuff. I used to feel a special kind of tingle up my tummy when ever I heard her name. [I felt a similar tingle only when I met Unni]

We were in the same class till seventh grade. I never had the guts to talk to her. Or was it that I never felt it was so important to talk. In fact, I was never bothered I never talked to Elsie. We were never friends. And I don't know if at all she had ever noticed me.

She might have noticed me. You can never tell you know. These girls are one of a kind. You can never make out what they are up to. I am sure she might have noticed me. I was this pet kid of teachers because most of them were my Dad's or Mom's friends and I was bright enough to be a pet. And there's no way she couldn't have noticed me. But when I say she would not have, I mean, she would not have the way I did. Or, I don't know if she did the way I did.

It's not that I miss Elsie now. Had not my friend raised her name, I would not have thought about her today. And that doesn't mean that I've forgotten her. It's just that I don't miss her.And I don't know where she's now.