First love

Her name was Lakshmi

Carefully braided hair, wound up so tight

With two tiny red bows

To let the hair know

Where to start curling upward

The bows were always red

Perhaps to match her shiny name badge

Which pinned down a handkerchief

With the letters L S in cursive

Bordered with floral motifs in a soft purple

She had a raspy voice

Like chalks on a blackboard

Less mellifluous, more tortuous.

But I liked hearing it

I didn’t want to kiss her or say I love you

Or have her say I love you back

I didn’t want to hug her or hold her

I didn’t want to marry her

Or have kids with her

I just felt my cheeks get warm

When she walked by

Or if she called out to someone

To borrow a pencil

I walked into class one morning to

Find her with her head down on the desk

Her eyes red and swollen

A name badge lay in front of her

In two distinct pieces, a beginner’s jigsaw

I did what any man would do

In times of trouble, with a damsel in distress

I ran to my mother

Who happened to be a kindergarten teacher

Slinked into the Staff room

Told her what I ate for lunch

And purloined a sticky blue bottle of glue

Triumphantly showed it to Lakshmi

Who put back together her badge

Forever cementing our friendship

Except I don’t remember

Anything before or after this incident

Memories are impetuous, moody creatures

They keep the best bits and the worst

Never the long winding string

That connects them

But through years of repeating this story

I’ll never ever forget, my first love