I am a working woman. I deal with men at work, and on my way to and from work. There used to be a time when I doubted all men, even the politest of them. I had had enough disgusting experiences with the opposite sex to last me a lifetime. All of that changed when I met him. He changed my perspective on the male sex, something I shall remain ever thankful to him for…

I met him at a book launch; at his book launch, to be more specific. That was where I saw him the first time. It was a common friend who introduced the two of us.

After that first meeting, we started chatting on Facebook. Every night, we would chat for three to four hours. We talked about books, cinema and music, mostly. I was not entirely comfortable with these daily conversations; the unpleasing experiences of my past haunted me. Nonetheless, I enjoyed chatting with him.

And one day, I decided to open up to him. I told him about my depression. “Don’t worry, you will be fine” he told me when I had opened my heart out to him. He suggested I visit Osho Tapoban in Raniban. “The mediation sessions there will help you,” he said.

And then he told me about his own struggle with depression. “The meditation helped a lot,” he said. And then he went ahead and told me he’d take me there himself some day. 

That one comment upset me. He was behaving the same way the men from my past had always behaved. They were all looking for ‘private’ places only so they might satiate their urges. 

“Why do you want to take me personally?” I asked. I’m not really sure if he sensed my nervousness and anger.

“People there know me and that will be of some help to you” he said. What he said was hard to believe but I said okay nonetheless. One thing I was certain of: that he would never rape me. Everything else, I figured, was totally up to me.

I woke up early in the morning, had my breakfast and left home. I took a microbus to Balaju. We had planned to meet there and take a ride to Tapoban together.

He was wearing a gray jacket and blue jeans. I didn’t recognise him until he took off his helmet. 

It was a cold February morning but his smile added some warmth to the day. That million dollar smile suited him a lot.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked. He was carrying a backpack which was placed between us. I laughed and said, “Why are you carrying the bag…afraid of being touched?”

He started his motorbike and we headed towards the jungle.  It was very cold, as if I was not wearing anything although I was bundled in layers of clothing. The cold breeze passed through my sweater to my skin.

The two of us remained silent until we reached Tapoban.  As we walked downstairs to the jungle our arms were touching. His voice was so soft; that matched his personality. I liked the way he talked. I was actually getting attracted to him.

“There is a waterfall here. Want to have a look?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied. I was enjoying his company.

There was no one around us. Suddenly, I found myself getting desperate to get close to him and hold him. I looked into his eyes to try and figure out whether he was feeling the same way or not. I stared at his eyes but could not be sure of anything.

He maintained the distance between us. I was not sure how to react. He was a gentleman. The more distanced he seemed, the more attracted I became. I started wanting, even desiring him, physically. But I kept quiet. I was afraid of losing him.

I wished I could hug him, at least. Once would have been enough.

When the time for us to separate finally came, I was sad beyond measure. Once again, I looked straight into his eyes and failed to read them. So I said goodbye and left.

A barrage of thoughts came to my mind on the way home. I thought I had sensed his interest in me. Why would he have taken me so far away otherwise? I kept questioning myself and trying to give the right answers. I felt like asking him directly, but was afraid to talk over the phone.

That evening, I sent him an SMS: Do I look so ugly that you don’t even feel like coming close?  

He didn’t reply. I waited the whole evening for his answer. But I didn’t get one.

Since we had developed the habit of chatting each night, I went online that night as well. But he was not there. So I sent him the same message I had texted him earlier: I didn’t get a reply. Do I look so ugly that you don’t even feel like coming close?  

After one hour I got his reply: Binu, you are very beautiful. Sorry...but you are just a friend.

I still regret the reply I sent him. I wish I hadn’t written that message: Can we meet tomorrow? For only two hours (not somewhere public). I know you are not attracted to me, but see, I am very attracted to you. 

He didn’t reply the whole night. I didn’t realise when I fell asleep. In the morning, there was a message in my inbox: I respect your feelings but I hate your perception of me. Love is not something cheap and I have my own sweetheart. I love her a lot.

I felt terrible after reading it. And then I noticed something worse. He had removed me from his friends list.

I asked myself if what I had done was intolerable, if my messages had warranted such a reaction...And since I could not come up with any answer myself, I sent him another message: Why would you do something as heartless as unfriend me?

I didn’t get a reply. I sent him the message again. He didn’t reply. He never replied...

These days, when I recall the incident, I understand him. He was a pure friend. He was not interested in my body. I feel bad about losing him, but I value our friendship. 

He showed me that not all men are the same; not everybody craves for flesh. But then, he also made me realise than even women can feel physical attraction, one which does not tie the man in ‘commitment’.