by: The Observer
Growing up under the protective wing of his mother and siblings, he rarely rubbed shoulders with girls. At basic school, he was always spotted kicking a ball with his male friends, chasing each other like wild goats let loose in a field. When it came to girls, he kept them at arm’s length. It wasn’t that he was tongue-tied or shy; he simply didn’t see them through the rose-colored glasses others wore. To him, they were just ordinary people, no more enchanting than the boys he played with. The idea of striking up a conversation with them never crossed his mind. He felt no butterflies, no sparks—just plain neutrality. If someone teased him about girls, he would shrug it off as if they were talking about the weather.
At church, however, things took a slight turn. He had a few female acquaintances, though their conversations were as rare as rain in the desert. Only when they found themselves in the same ministry did he begin to bond with some of them. Even then, he never put them on a pedestal. They were companions in service, not muses to stir his heart. He kept his emotions locked away, never letting them run wild. If anyone tried to matchmake him, he would laugh it off, saying, “I came to sing hymns, not write love songs.”
The real twist of fate came when he entered a single-sex senior high school. That environment cut him off completely from the female world, save for the occasional glimpse of teachers’ daughters. But even those fleeting encounters were overshadowed by stern warnings from the headmaster and staff. “Don’t even greet them,” they cautioned, as though a simple hello could spark a scandal. Fear wrapped around him like chains, and he dared not break them. His secondary education passed in this cloistered manner, with no room for feminine friendships. He often joked with his mates that the school was like a monastery—except without the monks’ robes.
When he completed his studies, life handed him a new chapter. He decided to give back to society by teaching, pouring out the knowledge he had gathered like water from a jug. That decision became the turning point of his story. In the classroom, he was no longer just a student but also a mentor, a guide, and a torchbearer. And it was there that fate played its hand again.
The first student he encountered was a beautiful young lady, a leader among her peers. She struck up a conversation with him, but he quickly pulled the plug, realising he wasn’t interested in anything beyond teaching. He had promised himself to keep his heart out of the classroom. Yet, as life often does, it threw him a curveball. Another younger student approached him, asking for help with a song. She was eager to learn, but what caught his eye wasn’t her zeal—it was her beauty. Against his own vow, he found himself falling for her. He tried to resist, telling himself over and over that he would never cross that line. But the heart, as they say, has a mind of its own. He was like a man trying to hold back the tide with a broom.
Their friendship blossomed like a flower in spring. They became close and inseparable, and the rumour mill began to churn. Whispers floated through the corridors, insinuations flew like arrows, and even her elder brother scratched his head, wondering how two unlike poles could stick together without romance. “There must be something going on,” people muttered. But despite the gossip, their bond held firm. They weathered storms together, and their friendship grew stronger with each passing day. He often joked that if friendship were a currency, they would have been millionaires.
He loved her deeply, though he kept that love tucked away in the secret chambers of his heart. She endured troubles and faced challenges, yet never let go of their friendship. They stood by each other like two trees whose roots intertwined beneath the soil. Still, circumstances beyond their control shifted the sands of time. Life pulled them in different directions, and their paths became parallel lines, close but never meeting again. He sometimes said, half in jest, “We are like railway tracks—always side by side but never touching.”
Years rolled by like waves on the shore, yet some people still clung to the belief that they would one day come together as a couple. To them, destiny was simply biding its time. But he knew better. Their story was not one of romance but of friendship that defied odds, a bond that had been tested by fire and had come out pure. He had loved her, yes, but he had also learned that love sometimes wears different faces. It can be romantic, but it can also be platonic, loyal, and steadfast. His love for her was the latter—a love that respected boundaries, a love that chose friendship over fleeting passion.
In the twinkle of an eye, the boy who once kept girls at bay had found himself entangled in a friendship that taught him more about life than any textbook ever could. He had learned that sometimes, the heart plays tricks, leading us down paths we swore we’d never tread. He had also learned that friendship, when nurtured, can be stronger than romance, more enduring than desire. Their story became a testament to that truth. He often laughed at himself, saying, “I went to teach songs, but life taught me lessons.”
Even now, when people look back, they shake their heads and smile, saying, “Those two should have been together.” But he knows that life doesn’t always follow the script we write in our minds. Sometimes, it pens its own story, full of twists and turns, idioms, and ironies. And in his case, it wrote a tale of friendship that stood the test of time, a tale that proved that not all bonds need to end in romance to be meaningful. He had once been a boy who saw girls as ordinary, but fate had shown him that ordinary people can bring extraordinary lessons.