Hello...

I’d met him over the small window of the yahoo messenger. No, I am not a chat room person. Neither was he. Lets just say- we were the ‘victims’ of a match-making fiesta by good willed relatives.

Hesitant conversation. Wary. And curious too. I was too young to be married then. It seemed a laughable matter and I plunged fully into ‘no-ing’ the whole thing.

He was nice enough to find a love and nicer still to be thinking on a long-term basis with her. He never gave me a chance to ‘no’ him. I’ll never forgive him for that.

When he told me that he was in love and not with me, that’s when I think I actually began liking him.

We’d spoken once. Just once. A late night conversation, when I sat on the stairs and spoke in hushed tones, which seemed way too loud for the night… I liked his voice.

He was busy trying to make a decent pattern of his life. I was young enough to dance through life and make everyone else dance. It wasn’t the right time for ‘us’.

And like all good things, we lost in touch. But any mention of a name, as his, and I would smile to myself… I like his name.

The next call was four years later.

The moment I picked up the phone and heard the voice on the other end, I knew it was he. Both of us were surprised.

Once again hesitant conversation… Then leaving all bashfulness behind, a hearty conversation with both of us having so much to say and yet nothing at all.

His voice lingered in my head long after the receiver was replaced in the cradle. I like his laugh.

He is married now. And not to me.

I wonder if he’s told his wife about me. Especially when there is nothing to say.