"Dil mein mere hain Dard-e-Disco!!"

(There’s disco pain in my heart.)

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He was 5. She was 4. They were family friends. Fathers enjoyed their scotch together, mothers shared cooking recipes, uncles and aunties used to chat, and they used to play. Chasing the ducks, petting the dogs, her Chinese cut hair, his too!! Family friends are comforting; I mean if you think long term. Parents already have a common ground, one tick mark there, the boy and the girl grow up together, so they know how nasty it can get, no surprises there either. So it’s just the challenge of keeping it exciting, lifelong…now who doesn’t have that challenge?! So at the age of 4, the plan seemed reliable. They went to the same school too. The boy would give her tips on how to handle the maths teacher in standard 1, and she would share Kwality (Not Kwality Walls) icecreams with him. Everything was perfect! Then one day, the boy’s family moved to the US – just like that!! I sang ‘Dil mein mere hain dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco…’

That was my first ‘Dard-e-disco’.

When I was in standard 3, I realized the existence of a rather cute boy. He used to sit two desks from me and would smile shyly. I used to squint at him, and do maths (mainly the multiplication tables for 8, it was a b****). Before the summer holidays, the maths teacher distributed the answer sheets for the half-yearly exam. To my pleasant suprise, I found to have conquered the 8*9 and had scored full marks. He ran to my father after school and said, ‘She scored full marks!’ This time, I smiled shyly at him. The school opened after the summer vacation. I waited to smile at him. Friends said that he had moved to another school. I sang ‘Dil mein mere hain dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco…’

That was my second ‘Dard-e-disco’. Years later, I stumbled upon him on Orkut. I again sang, ‘Dil mein mere hain dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco…’ and logged off.

Saraswati puja was a big event in our place, both in the school and at our house. We used to do night-outs to come up with a theme, decorate the pandal, get the idol, plan the bhog, etc etc. It is during one such night-outs, at the age of twelve, I met an engineering student, 6 years older to me. He was helping out with the decorations, putting up the frames, painting, keeping the accounts, and drinking several cups of tea. He ignored my existence. I happily acknowledged the same. I followed him everywhere, his 'beck and call', and found great satisfaction in fulfilling his smallest desires, from bringing the hammer to cleaning up the paint brush. On the day of the puja, he came in a white kurta and payjama, smiling and reassuring, as ever. I almost didn’t notice the saree next to him.

I turned away and sang ‘Dil mein mere hain dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco…’ That was my third ‘Dard-e-disco’.

Meanwhile, I was disillusioned by the prospects available in my close proximity (the school, neighborhood, family friends) and decided to look far and wide. One man drew my attention. He blazed the television screen with his aces, his fury, his long hair, and his rebellious demeanor. I watched his every match, cried at his defeats, and rejoiced at his wins. I almost reached the deserts of Nevada, with him. I kept each and every copy of the various sports magazines, and pulled out his photos. Then he won the Wimbeldon. I watched it, and believe that my watching it had something to do with his winning. I truly believe (no past tense). Anyhoo, next day the papers announced how his girlfriend also watched his win from the player’s gallery.

This time, I didn’t have the voice (from the previous night's cheering) to sing. I just noted it down, my fourth ‘Dard-e-disco’.

After careful consideration, I decided that tennis, USA, etc. are too far off, let me look at some place closer. The closest was the television set, again. So I stared at it, again! This time a truly handsome man emerged from a box, chiseled face, smooth hair, great body, kind eyes…the melody played at the background ‘Ek dil chahiye bass Made in India’. I was pretty sure that this is the one! So I survived one Madhu Sapre, some Dipannita Sharma, etc etc. till oneday, some fifteen years later, he finally got married...to someone else!! I still remember, couple of us sighed, hearts broken. That day we left office early too.

I finally had to sing for him, ‘Dil mein mere hain dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco…’ By this time, I have lost count.

So the sweet 16 breezed by, the charming 25 came and went, I crossed the danger 30, and stumbled at the magic 35, the ‘dard-e-discos’ are few and far between now. I don’t blame my grey hairs for that, I think we don’t have ‘men’ of our generations, any more ;). So here’s to the ‘dard-e-discos’ of my life, and our lives, although they generally have very short runs, but boy o boy are those wonderful, and in my case although many of them didn’t know that I exist, I still had complete liberty over my Piscean daydreams; so here's one last time, ‘Dil mein mere hain dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco… dard-e-disco…!’

**"Dil mein mere hain Dard-e-Disco" is a song from some hindi film. I take no credit for this creative metaphor.