It was Ramya's very first day of college. As she boarded the bus for Wadiya College, one of Pune's best educational institutions, she felt excited and apprehensive, all at once.

She hailed from a military family. Her father was a doctor in the Armed Forces and her mother a housewife. She was the elder of the two sisters and was not very academically inclined, unlike her younger sister.

Her parents were daunting and overprotective to the point that she had never even been allowed to go out with her classmates for school picnics in her almost nineteen years of life.

That's why, she had put her heart and soul into her studies and applied for college in another city, the first chance she had got.

It was not easy though. Her choices were limited. For, her parents did not trust her to be without supervision. Thus, it came down to choosing between two cities: Bangalore, where her Kaka, her father's brother lived, or Pune, where her mother's sister lived.

After speaking with the respective families, her parents had decided to go with Pune.

Ramya was happy. She loved her Badi Ma (mom's elder sister) more than her Kaka. And Badi Ma was extremely fond of her niece as well.

Over the years, Ramya had visited her Badi Ma often, so she was a little familiar with the city that was going to be her home for the next three years. What was more, Badi Ma had also given her a room to call her own during her stay with them. For her children were already married and lived in another city.

"The home will feel full again!" Badi Ma had exclaimed excitedly when Ramya's mother, Neeta, had apologized for burdening her with Ramya's responsibility.

Geeta, her Badi Ma, had always had a soft spot for her as she did not have any girls of her own and was overjoyed about the fact that her favorite niece will be staying with her.

In the morning, Geeta had woken Ramya up and packed her favorite dish for lunch. She had also walked Ramya to the bus stop and helped her board the bus.

Ramya had chosen a modest outfit for the special day, a pale yellow Kurti with matching salwar. It brought out her dark eyes and jet black knee-length plated hair that sat over her shoulder and pooled into her lap. A small black bindi sat between her thick eyebrows and her face was devoid of any kind of makeup.

She had been warned by her father that if he ever got even a whiff of her breaking the house rules, he would drag her back to Bhatinda, where he was currently posted.

"Wadiya... Wadiya... " The conductor yelled over the sounds of cars, buses, trucks and autos passing them by, dragging Ramya out of her thoughts.
I am finally here, she thought, and crossed the busy road, making her way to the college entrance.

As soon as she entered, it was like she had entered a different world. Multicolored flags and youths sporting the latest fashion trends walked passed her. Of course, there were students dressed modestly too, just like herself, but they were far fewer compared to those who looked like they had walked out of magazine covers. 

Looking to her right, she spotted the parking lot. Unlike her army public school parking lots, this parking lot sported a lot of variety from bikes to cycles, from mopeds to cars or different brands and makes crossed her field of vision.

She smiled and was about to proceed to the main building, when something familiar caught her eye, an ancient-looking scooter, a yellow Lambretta. It stood in the parking lot, looking completely out of place, beckoning her closer. But Ramya knew that if she were to investigate the antique scooter now, she would be late for her first class, so she committed the spot to her memory and decided to come back to it later. 

During the lunch break perhaps, she thought.

The first thing she did was go to the main building where a huge notice board stood surrounded by a dozen or so students just like herself, clueless.

"Excuse me." She gingerly tapped the shoulder of one of the girls standing closest to her.

"Yes?" The girl sporting boot-cut low waist jeans and frilly pink top asked.

"Hi, can you direct me to the Commerce building, please."

The girl nodded and pointed to the oldest looking building in the campus, "That's the one you are looking for."

Ramya thanked the girl and made her way to the building. As she neared it, she saw what she had missed at first glance.

Though old, the building was very charming. What it lacked in architecture, it made up for it in character. Character, given to it by the funky students walking in and out of classrooms.

Am I late, Ramya thought, quickening her pace and looking for her class, F.Y. B.Com.

She found it at the end of the corridor. She would have missed it had it not been for a beautifully decorated notice board welcoming the first years to the prestigious campus.

Ramya took a deep breath and entered the classroom, which was already buzzing with activity. Everywhere she turned, she was met with groups of students busy chatting with each other.

No one gave her a second look, as she walked towards the seats and out of habit, took the front row middle seat.
Suddenly, the group of kids nearest to where she had seated herself fell silent and looked at her with a strange mix of awe, surprise, and something else.

Ramya couldn't understand the expression at the time and decided to ignore it. She looked at her plain brown wristwatch and thought to herself, "It's almost time."

Just then, someone cleared their throat a little too close for comfort. Ramya looked up from the economics textbook she had opened just a few seconds ago, and found a lanky young man with a crew cut, smirking at her.

"Hi there, lucky lady." He greeted her and continued to smirk.

"Hello." Ramya replied and narrowed her eyes, "How may I help you?"

"You can't." The boy paused and add, "Do you by chance have a brother who is good-looking in a classic dorky sort of way?"

Ramya blinked at the odd question and shook her head. "No."

"Ah... Alright then. Welcome to Wadiya, Madhubala. By the way, I am Neel. If you feel lonely, or need a guide, you can find me right there." The boy, Neel, pointed at the backbenches and winked, before turning on his heels and walking back to his group.

"I guess there can be two of a kind." The crew cut, Neel, informed his friends and then went on to talk about the latest India v/s England cricket match.

Ramya, thought a little curious about who the backbencher Neel, had talked about, shook her head and went back to her book.

Almost immediately, a buzzer rang somewhere in the building, signaling the start of her very first college lecture, and she sat up straighter. She watched as the seats around her began to fill up. To her surprise though, she was the only occupant of the first row.

Are these seats reserved, she thought and turned to look back. But before she could give voice to her thoughts, silence fell over the classroom, and Ramya turned her head back just as a short plump man, with heavy-set sharp eyes and a mischievous smile entered the classroom.

Reluctantly, the motley group of students got to their feet haphazardly and wished the man who introduced himself as Sharad Pavley.

The professor had a commanding voice and thirty years of experience backing him. Ramya noticed that he had a habit of calling his students 'Nuts and Bolts'. After he had taken the attendance, he had promptly asked the class to open their mediocre textbooks and dived into the subject.
Professor Pavley, Ramya observed, was unlike any of the teachers she had ever come across. He was jovial, yet gave an impression of being a hard taskmaster. He even made the boring topics of demand and supply, sound like plot lines of blockbuster movies, and within no time an hour had passed.

The bell rang, and another professor entered. This time it was a tall man who looked like he was contesting in the next election. He introduced himself as Dilip Bagare. He, Ramya observed, was met with dozens of sleepy soulless eyes, hardly ten minutes into his lecture.

It must be the monotonous tone he is using, Ramya guessed.

By the time the second lecture was over, half of the class was asleep, and the rest were leaving their places and walking out the door.

Ramya looked at the departing crowd and wondered if she had missed something. For a glance at the timetable stuck on the notice board had informed her that the next lecture was about to start in a few minutes.

"Madhubala," Neel called a very distraught looking Ramya out of her musings, "It's the unofficial break time. The class will resume after fifteen."

Ramya's lips formed a soundless 'O' at the info and thanked her first acquaintance, who nodded and left with his friends.

Ramya packed her bag, and taking a hint from others, who had left their bags only taking with them their purses, took out her purse, and walked out for fresh air.

She stopped a girl walking past her and asked for directions to the restroom.

And after freshening up, on her way back to the classroom, her eyes were once again dragged to the parking lot, where they spotted and lingered over the yellow Lambretta.

It's still there, she thought, and a smile formed on her lips.

"Hey Madhubala," The now-familiar voice called, and she looked at her classmate.

"Don't worry, our college is pretty safe. Your vehicle won't be stolen." He stated before turning and gesturing her to follow, "Come on, or you will be late."

Ramya looked at the time and followed Neel to the classroom. Soon enough, third and fourth lectures followed, with a forty-five-minute break in between. During which, Neel guided her to the canteen and forced his friends and her, to have lunch together.

Somewhere along the way, Ramya had introduced herself, and Neel had swatted his hands and dismissed it.
"You look more like Madhubala." The laid-back boy had said and gone on to introduce his friends, Ram, Maithili, Suman, Deepak, and Shyam. He had then proudly announced that they were veteran students since they had passed out of Wadiya Junior College.
It made more sense to Ramya now as to why many of her classmates seemed to know their way around the campus.

They must be 'veterans' too, she told herself.

Though she had a good time making friends with Neel's group, Ramya had once again missed the opportunity to investigate the Lamberta that begged her attention.

Luckily, she got her chance when the fourth lecture ended fifteen minutes before the scheduled time, and she scurried over to the parking lot before Neel could stop her.

Now that she had arrived at her destination, Ramya felt silly. After all, what were the chances of the scooter belonging to the boy who had been her first real crush, all the way back when she was barely fourteen.

What were the chances of it belonging to, Ian Braganza?

Even so, curiosity got the best of her, and she took the last few steps that put her right in front of the scooter.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she closed her eyes.

This is it, she thought, and was about to look at the number plate, when someone tapped her shoulder.

"Excuse me, may I help you?" A deep voice questioned.

The voice sent shivers down her spine. She knew the voice. After all, she had committed it to her memory a long time ago.

Five years ago, to be precise.

*****

"

Ramya, the bus is here," Neeta called her daughter. It was Ramya's first day of school. But it was not the first day for the rest of 8th B. For the school had started almost four months ago.
It was not her fault though, it was her father's. Well, it was technically not his fault either, it was how the posting system worked. And her father always got posted in October, every three years.

They had arrived in Bareilly two days ago. Thankfully, it was Friday with the next day being a second Saturday, a holiday. Thus, Ramya and Ridima, Ramya's younger sister, had gotten two full days to unpack and set up the room, as well as make friends with other army officers' kids in the locality.

That is where Ramya had seen Ian for the first time. He was tall, with a beautiful bright smile, and kind gentle eyes. His thick dark hair was cut short and parted to the left.

During their time playing with them, Ramya and her sister were introduced to all the kids. Unlike the rest of the kids though, Ian was not an army officer's son. His father owned a small but much-loved Bakery in the vicinity of their school. And since all his friends stayed in the Army housing colony, he used to walk over to the colony to spend time with them once or twice a week. Also, unlike the other kids who had cracked light-hearted jokes about her weight, he was the only one who had refrained from doing so, and complimented her on her long plated hair.

As soon as Ramya had seen Ian, her chest had felt strange.

Maybe I have acidity, the innocent girl had thought, and dismissed the feeling. Since she had never felt that way, she had nothing to compare the feeling to.

For the next two days, she had eaten properly and had adequate quantities of water. But every time her mind had drifted to Ian, the odd sensation in her chest had returned.

Monday morning, as she boarded her bus, and her eyes moved over the occupants, she felt a tightening feeling in her chest. Ian wasn't there.

It was then that Ramya remembered that Ian was a civilian. The bus was only meant for kids of defense personnel.

Though a little upset, Ramya took a seat next to Meera, her neighbor, and got busy chatting about the latest Tom Cruise movie and about how perfect Raj and Simran were for each other in DDLJ, the latest blockbuster.

As the two girls got busy talking, Ramya forgot about Ian, and her mood lifted. That was only till they reached their school and got off the bus. For as soon as she had taken a few steps towards the school gate, a loud honk had made her look behind and her eyes had fallen a yellow Lamberta. Her dad had owned a green one, when she was three; that's how she knew the make. She was surprised to see that there were still people who owned the classic scooter. So, out of curiosity, she had leaned over to take a look at its owner.

There, on the vehicle, sat a middle-aged, smartly dressed man, and behind him, sat Ian, with a shiny badge proudly displayed on top of his uniform's front pocket.

'Captain' The badge read.

Ramya's heart started beating faster, and she felt her cheeks heat up. She knew she was staring; she knew she should look away, but she couldn't.
And Ramya finally understood that it was not something that she ate, but Ian, who had her heart behaving oddly; like when she saw Raj and Simran in each other's arms; like she felt when the first drops of rain fell on her face; like she felt when saw something beautiful and precious.

And that's how, Ramya, a fourteen-year-old overweight girl from a strict disciplinarian family, had realized, that she had fallen in love, for the first time.

*****

{Note :- Word Count 2689}