Nai telephone, naire peon, naire telegram? Yes, I’m sure you and your love both have countless telephones at your respective places. Perhaps you have her number better memorized than Newton’s third law of motion. But ironically, your actions seem to have bit too intense an opposite reaction each time you call, or even attempt to call. Go ahead; fake a girly voice saying that you’re a God-knows-what friend of hers. However, you’re told from the other side rather heatedly that lady love doesn’t really have a friend called Samia. Oops.
Peons, ah I don’t even want to go there. Just when you think you can rely on your younger siblings (or hers) they decide to ask for outrageously expensive added benefits. If you think chocolate still appeases them then you’re living in the past; hence no peons for le devoted lover. Oh, did I mention that telegrams are out of question? I mean, who sends- ‘WANT MEET 4 SHARP MUCH LOVE’?
The grand narrative I came up with, wasting my precious 172 words (including title) was solely for advertising purposes. In such a situation you have only one place to go, a place where you and love feel at the top of the world and just catching a glimpse of each other is a mini-Eid bonanza. In other words, welcome to the realm of rooftop love.
Why does yours truly vouch for ‘love on the terrace’ being a hopeless romantic herself? Well, that’s because this is how you probably first met. No matter how forgetful you are you can never forget that first day when you caught sight of your love. Even if you do forget, well, the other makes sure that you can narrate the whole incident second for second. It might have been pretty much one-sided initially, but after much showing off from both rooftops, the four eyes (sometimes six or even eight, if one or both parties wear glasses) finally met and magic happened *background music, saxophones?*. All you have to do now is find an alibi; maybe watering the plants or a sudden need of attending to the clothes line, race your way up those stairs and have a little clandestine meeting without anyone smelling the rat. Ideal when your cellphones have been thrown out of the window, burnt with a flamethrower or worse, seized for an undecided period of time. But anything that sounds too good to be true almost always comes with a ‘conditions apply’ asterisk.
First up is that gigantic communication problem you faced since day one. If you live in the same building then you can always talk, even those Siamese twin like buildings in Old Dhaka crammed together for your comfort aren’t much of a problem. But what about those whose terraces are out of audibility range? If you think you’re Salman Khan and Bhagyashree straight from the sets of ‘Maine Pyaar Kiya’ then bearer pigeons might be your deal. However your winged minions seldom have accurate compasses fitted under their wing expanse. That would leave you rather bemused, and perhaps with a lighter pocket. So I suggest *drum-roll* slingshots! But before you send your projectiles up in the air, I suggest erasers instead of stones as attached weight along with written messages. Do a little target practice if necessary so that the potted plants and pickle jars don’t become victims of your all-consuming love.
Before you start waltzing around in joy with your kolbalish, there’s another little problem at hand- ‘third party interference’. Some of you are already nodding, but trust me; I’m not talking about parents. They is another problem though, which can be tackled by constant surveillance or keeping somebody on guard. Noticed how the muscular hunk next door (next terrace, actually) tries to woo your Rapunzel away? Or the fashionista that bats her eyelids at the sight of Prince Charming (he can’t help looking at her, true story)? Solution? There is none. Throwing the other guy off the roof works, though.
Love has its little complications, the occasional rifts and fights and rooftop communication glitches. There will be times when you might fail to lip-read the secret coded messages. And then there will be the sudden appearance of the ever-curious bua, wondering what the apu and the bhaiya are doing. But just think, isn’t that how epic romances flourished? So here’s to my aspiring Romeos, Juliets, Lailis and Majnus, and here’s to rooftop love. Good luck and God bless!
Photo Credit: Saniday (Deviantart)
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