It was a convoluted and complicated time when I had my first real crush. Picture it: Grade 1, six years old and not aware of the dynamics that played in the classroom or in the real world. For me, he was the only one that fulfilled all of my dreams.
The Donny and Marie show was a hit 70s show that featured the youngest of the Osmond brothers, Donny, Marie and the rest of their cheesy clan. But hey, they were not cheesy to me back then. Every Sunday night, I would tune in to see their muscial show that featured their songs, skits and other muscial guests. I was fixated only on Donny. For a while, I despied Marie, thinking she his significant other, only to realize many months later that the toothy, big haired girl was his sister. It did not matter where I was. Every Sunday, Donny and I spent the night together.
"We are leaving in fifteen minutes. Now only if I can find the directions," my father announced, checking all his pockets and motioning my mother to go through his coat. She had my crying sister in her arms, a purse in the other and all the while her sari was perfectly pleated. I came downstairs, still in my pajamas, much to my father's horror.
"Why are you not ready?" he demanded. I plopped myself onto the sofa and switched on the TV.
"Donny and Marie is coming on at 7. Can we leave after?" I gathered up my pink Barbie blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders. I could feel from the eerie silence that my father was flabbergasted at the audacity of such a request.
"We have a wedding to attend where there will be 200 people and you sit here in your pajamas ready to watch TV?!" I could see the vein in his temple throbbing. I looked at my mother for help but my insolent sister continued to wail at the top of her lungs demanding God knows what from my poor mother.
"I will miss my show. Is there a TV at the wedding. Can I watch Donny there?" I asked innocently.
My father looked at my mother in disbelief and I saw him walk over to me with his finger wagging close to my head. Ok, I was going to get it now.
"What is with you and this show?" he exclaimed. "You are to go upstairs young lady, change into the clothes your mother ironed and get ready this instant!"
"But Daddy, I cannot miss Donny. He is going to be...my....he is my....well..." I hesitated. I was going for the kill to stall my father. "I am in love with Donny and we are going to get married!"
My father didn't miss a beat. He turned to my mother and wagged his finger at her. "I blame you Jamila! You let her watch this show every week and now she has these unIslamic fantasies. Get her ready now." He walked downstairs and out the front door to heat the car up. My mother sighed in exasperation and came over to me. She was rocking my sister who was inconsolable from her fit.
"Could you please just miss this show tonight? Maybe next week will be a rerun," she begged. I was shaking my head violently. This could not be happening. I needed to see Donny. One stern look from my mother did me in. When my father was mad, it was one thing but when my mother was not happy with me, I relented. I swung off the couch, got ready and sulked all the way to the wedding.
One Uncle approached our table at the wedding and saw me sulking. I had not touched the food on my plate. My mother was too busy trying to calm my wailing sister and my father, as usual, was making his social rounds and laughing from across the hall. "Arey, arey, my little chapati! Why are you looking so sad this evening?"
I gave him a dirty look and folded my arms. That did not dissuade him from coming over and sitting next to me. "Come on, it must not be so bad," he smiled politely, trying to get me to talk.
"I am going to marry Donny Osmond! But Daddy won't let me see him tonite!" I yelled over the blaring Indian music. Uncle laughed and laughed and slapped me on the back. "Oh my child, you will marry who your father will pick for you. And Donny is not Muslim. You could never marry him!"
The world as I knew it ended right there and then. A world without Donny. I could not imagine it and I was devastated. When my father returned to our table, I was livid! Anger and sadness enveloped me and I ran over to him and pinched his arm.
"I WILL MARRY DONNY. And you cannot stop me," I shouted. My father was talking to Uncle and they both stopped to react to my proclaimation. For one second they observed me and then resumed their conversation. My jaw dropped in surprise. No reaction. Not a word. I turned to my mother but she was consumed with feeding my sister who was refusing the bottle. I hung my head down and sat back in my chair. But do not despair for me...the story goes on....
In my Grade 1 class, there was a boy named Donny. He was blond with freckles and always wore a sweater vest to school. Quiet, unassuming and seemingly shy. I never took any notice of him except for the fact that he shared my ultimate love's name. For the most part, I did not notice any boy in our class. But he sure noticed me. And without realizing it, he became my first real crush.
Donny would do very nice things for me. If it wasn't my day to be in the puppet play group, Donny would switch spots with me. During recess, Donny would always pass me the ball if we were playing soccer or basketball. When I forgot lunch one day, Donny shared his snacks with me. Donny was always there for me but I did not notice. Until the day he approached me.
In the hallway, I was distracted one day after recess and was slowly making my way back to class when he cornered me. We were by the water fountain. He told me to wait while he gulped down the water while I watched curiously.
"I just wanted to say that I am ....uh....well...you know....I like you," he said nervously, adjusting his sweater vest by pulling and stretching it down. I was mortified. I looked at him blankly as he sheepishly smiled back at me.
"I am already in love with Donny," I blurted. Donny became confused.
"You mean you love me," he smiled even wider. I was irritated with his stupidity but then I realized he thought I was talking about him.
"NO! Donny Osmond. My dad said I cannot marry him but I am going to grow up, leave this place, find him and tell him I watched every one of his shows, except last Sunday when I was made to go to some crazy wedding, and then he will fall in love with me and we will get married!" Donny's eyes welled up and he brushed past me to return to class. I stood there for a good five minutes and wondered what had happened. A few weeks later, all of the nice things Donny did for me ceased to happen. And I came home everyday, confused and sad.
And my Sunday ritual continued. I remember going up to the TV screen and kissing Donny on the mouth. My mother caught me doing this a few times and warned me if my father ever saw this, I would be grounded for a month. But I didn't care; in my little mind, I believed Donny was kissing me back. In retrospect, it was one of the oddest times in my life but a clear misunderstanding of reality and illusion. And it took Donny Osmond himself to make me realize it.
At school, Donny had reverted back to his old ways. He would share his toys with me, smile at me assertively when we passed in the hallway and help me with my math. But I gave him the cold-shoulder. I did not know how to react to his kindness. And slowly I began to realize that I liked him too. And this behaviour followed me all the way to high school. If I had a crush on a guy, I would never show it. In fact, I would make him believe that I was the last person on Earth who could like him. Guarded, then and now. Ironically though, I could express my emotions to an illusion; a one dimensional relationship that had no merit or real rewards--until Donny Osmond disrupted that fantasy.
The next Sunday, Donny Osmond introduced his girlfriend to the whole world. On national TV. My mother was sitting next to me knitting as I watched on in horror. I could not approach the screen for my nightly smooch. I was glued to my chair and ...BROKEN. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Donny would never be mine. I got up and switched off the show halfway through. My mother put her knitting down but remained silent. I looked at her forlornly and dragged my feet back to bed. That was the last time I watched the Donny and Marie show.
Donny sat at the picnic table, eating his lunch alone while I watched from the portable steps. I longed to go and sit with him but I could not bring myself to do so. When he would look my way, I would turn away, pretending not to see him. It was the hardest thing for me to do--to admit to myself that I had been in love with the wrong Donny. My heart sank as I watched another girl sit down next to him and they began talking. I sat by myself on the steps and thought about Donny Osmond. I remembered his girlfriend hugging him on the show, reciprocating his feelings. However, I didn't have the slightest clue how to do this in real life. There was no more TV screen to kiss. In real life, it would kiss back.
And without a moment's notice, there Donny was, by my side, looking down at me with his hand reaching out to mine. "Come have lunch with me," he smiled kindly while I stumbled with my words, trying hard to formulate an answer that encompassed how I felt for him. Instead, I smiled back, took his hand and we ate together at the picnic bench, side by side, alone, sharing our thoughts--in complete and utter silence.
That night, as we ate dinner, I was smiling to myself. My father noted that I stopped my Sunday night ritual and saw that my mood had finally changed. "So, you are over Donny now?"
I smiled secretly and replied,"Oh no Daddy. I am still going to marry him."
No comments:
Post a Comment