It is with great dismay that I admit to have suffered the common pitfalls of falling for a girl despite having known that every pretty face, even the mildly attractive ones that I happened upon at university was most definitely married, engaged or had a boyfriend.

     I first saw her at the cafeteria standing in the queue to order coffee. I had anticipated nothing then of the fateful encounter that would inevitably take place, bound as we were by the red thread of fate. I had little time to view her majestic porcelain skin and almond eyes. She flitted into the crowd right after she had gotten her coffee.

     The next time when I saw her at the cafeteria, she looked different. Aside from her glowing face, her straight hair coupled with her outfit, seemed to give her an air of cultivated upbringing that instantly enchanted the observer. She took her drink and went outside the cafeteria to at the bench a few feet away.

     Having thus traced her location outside I did not bother to wait for my friends at our usual table. Deciding to forget about them, I took my seat on the empty bench placed oblique to her and stole glances pretending to sip my coffee (I did sip coffee). Obviously, too frightened to approach her this was the most I could do. Perhaps there was a small chance that something would work out between us. I wondered if she had noticed me sitting by myself just like her. It was possible that she felt the warmth of a shared kinship on account that both of us were loners with a similar preference for meditation in quietness. While that may have been the case, I was yet aware that unless I approached to engage her in a conversation, we would never learn about each other. Unfortunately, I did not have the courage.

     Second week into the semester I discovered that she came to the campus only two days a week. She seemed lovelier with every passing day, but as it turned out, my uninterrupted view of her was short-lived. I watched with a mixture of distress and suspense as one day the lecherous Lebu sir accosted her after which they began to talk. There was a smile on her face that suggested the familiarity of their acquaintanceship. Lebu Sir was single and yet it had to be this particular girl that he was after. The girl who so far had been neutral like calm waters began to show vibrant ripples.  

     She was no longer the subject of my private observation as Lebu Sir frequently joined in to ruin my watch. I often followed her around even though I did not do it consciously. It was as if my feet acquired a life of their own while I had been conscious of my own mind and its will.

     Then I gave myself away. Although my footfalls had been catlike, somehow the manner in which I had done it had alerted her. I noticed that she had turned her head slightly towards me as if in recognition of my existence as an anomalous subject who had been watching and following her. Sensitive soul that I am, I recognized the suspicious glance and was not pleased with myself. I began to wonder what she thought of me and began to reflect on how I had become obsessed with her to the point that my body had begun to work independently of my brain.

     The term final exams came nearer and class tests became more frequent. I had taken a hiatus from tracing her footsteps but sure enough my thoughts would return to her frequently. I would of course position myself in places where I would get a view of her but decided that it was best if I didn't follow her around. After all, I could not have a sophisticated individual like me appear as a common stalker and lose every little chance I had. 

     The classes for next term started and I became hopeful of having a view of her once more. I did not want to be obsessed but I did not plan to forget her either. Just then entering the class was the girl with porcelain skin and almond eyes. As she stood by the desk to survey the class, our eyes found each other. Although her face was expressionless there was a look of surprised recognition in the almond pair as they set upon my alarmed black ones.

     With this short account, I remind myself and caution my fellow readers once more, that nearly all if not every attractive woman that you shall encounter at university is most definitely married, engaged, in a relationship, or the teacher herself.

A graduate of ULAB Marjuque-Ul-Haque is an occasional contributor to the Star Literature page.