In my third-year at the university, I was smitten by the charms of a beautiful girl with whom I had never spoken. She was in my department but in her second-year. The irony though was not only that we didn’t see often, but whenever I saw her, at intervals of between three and four months, I was always wearing the same green shirt. She would cast a pitiful look at me with those beautiful dark eyes and the lovely, fluttering eyelashes. She probably wondered if that was the only shirt I had.
I felt bad and this further diminished my courage to speak with her. I consulted a friend of mine who knew her well and he told me that the reason she was not often in school was that she was ill and was often on admission in various hospitals. I was not deterred by this sad news – love knows no bounds, right?
To right any wrong impressions already created , I decided to lay my beloved green shirt to rest so that whenever I ran into her on campus again, it would definitely be with a new look. I gave out the shirt. Unfortunately, I never saw her again after that. Alas, the week I laid the shirt to rest was the week she was sadly laid to rest. She was overcome by the ailment.
Sometimes I wonder if there was some power in that green shirt. May be I shouldn’t have given it away?
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