To the guy who talked less,

I first noticed him on the corridor of my college. A tall dark guy, walking alone in the hallway with his hands in his pockets. He walked quite different, too hurrying. He wasn’t the guy people would notice the first time.Somehow, I would often noticed him a lot back then. He often stayed in class at breaks, studying. He hardly spoke to anyone. He usually would never start a conversation himself. He had no particular friends. He sat at the canteen table, each day with a different person. He smiled too often, mostly when he didn’t wish to speak or respond to what people talked about.

My curiosity of what nature people could be often takes me to the edge to know a person. With him, we became friends quite smoothly. And with time it wasn’t that hard to finally understand him. He had his own principles. He had rules that defined everything for him. His own, self created rules. He was his own king. He would never follow others, too stubborn to  follow them. He needed reasons for almost everything. He asked questions, every now and then. He asked questions almost up to the state, people got annoyed. And the answers never satisfied him. And it irritated me at times as well. Because all he saw were problems. He was an expert at spotting the flaws. Well, if you observe superficially, you will have that feeling that he is some kind of a confused fellow stuck in the wrong place. And as you get along, you would finally get how strong he is than the rest of us.

There is no doubt that he is unique in his ways. He never saved phone numbers, instead he memorized them. I was shocked to know he remembered my number after months, being out of contact. Yes, soon with time, we wonderfully, drifted apart. The virtue of him being less social and me being full of it, easily dis-balanced itself. Once in a while, we do look at each other and smile as we cross across each other, down the hallway. But that spark we had, disappeared already.

I am not trying to judge someone here, just consider it a part of my strange curiosity. It’s like finding my inner peace in knowing why people act the way they do. Everyone has a background story. And it is not untrue to say how much a person’s character is reflected by how their families are? Who happen to be their closest friends? Who they choose to love? He came from a family of businessmen. He had very few friends. Probably his brother being the closest. And most of the times, I noticed, every point he tried to make was related to money. Not someone like a gold digger but often I couldn’t help but notice that he calculated profit and loss in almost all the things he did. Along with the relations he made. He hated wasting time. Most of his relations were like business relations. And I do realize I can never blame him for it. Because it relates to his environment.

And as I often think too much, I cannot stop myself from wondering if he became friends with me just for one of his hidden, twisted profits. But then as I think deeper, I know I am no different than him. Aren’t we all? Don’t we all have hidden motives?

P.S. This is solely based on one person’s perspective on his character building. I have seen him change a lot with time. He has grown up a lot these days. And he surely has a lot to add to it than this single sided story. As a beginner writer, this is just me trying to present a random character in an interesting way.

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