Disclaimer: No thenga manga pattani sundal, police, garbage bins, or dupattas, have been harmed during the making of these love stories. The same however, cannot be said about love itself.The year was 2012. Everyone was convinced that the world would be pulverised on December 12 because the Mayan calendar said so. I was far more concerned about the fact that TRAI allowed me only a maximum of 100 free messages a day as part of the SMS pack. [There was no WhatsApp back then. Kids these days don’t know how good they have it]. I had to find ways to confess my feelings to the love of my life without wasting all the messages on fluff texts like “Saptiya? (did you eat?)” mostly because we were going to die. Time was running out though and my 7pm curfew would arrive soon if I didn’t muster up the courage.“Beach?” I texted him at 3.30pm.Brevity was (and still is) not my strongest suit but I was not brave enough to write anything more. It was time to face the music, especially because every time I heard a Maroon 5 song, I thought of him.“I think I like you. I’m not sure if I can be in a relationship because we’re both in Class XII and we must focus. But if you’d like, we can quasi-date and meet at the beach when we’re both free. After the boards though, we can be girlfriend-boyfriend,” I said, in garbled word-salad tongue. I had, after all, just gotten off the cycle that I had peddled non-stop for 30 minutes in the scorching sun.At the Besant Nagar beach’s walk-way, as we stood avoiding eye contact, my crush turned to me and said “Enakku okay” and began walking to the shore. I was secretly overjoyed but tried impossibly hard to stop myself from beaming throughout. I had to keep my ‘cool girl’ act going. Our hands brushed a little as the waves lapped at our feet, but we ended up talking about all the happenings at Maths tuition and forgot that we were now secretly in love. I heard Maroon 5 songs all through the night.Three weeks later, when I stepped out of school, I saw him ‘doublesing’ my best friend on his cycle. She held his uniform shirt as holding his hips would be too forward. That evening, I cycled to the beach, cried and listened to Adele crooning Never mind I'll find someone like you. A fortune-teller with a fading green parrot (I’m sure it was painted), said that I was going to be rich at 30. He lied but quickly made me feel better. The world did not end that year but my chaste, innocent, puppy-like affection sure did. After this, I was going to be fearless in love and otherwise, I declared.