“I fall in love, just a little, oh little bit, every day with someone new.”

Background music: Someone New//Hozier

I fell in love with the stranger on the tube; his dog was a poodle; I played with his dog till his stop arrived. I fell in love with a lawyer who was a guest speaker in our class; I listened to him intently, mesmerized by his intellect. The moment he took my name and addressed my question, my insides melted. Yao couldn’t help noticing the way I was blushing the entire class. I thought of emailing him after class, complimenting his personality. I resisted, not because I was shy but because, you know, what if he’s married. I fell in love with the lady who sat beside me on the tube, her baby in her arms, speaking with the little boy as if he was an adult. Completely taken aback, I strike a conversation, and she told me that children understand more than you think. I was on my way to the airport, he dropped his cap, and they had already left. I still have the little boy’s cap in my drawer.

I fell in love with a random person who emailed me, saying that he’s been searching for an Aakriti Ghimire ever since they last met in New York. I have never been to NY, but somehow, we exchanged a couple of emails, his life as a 33-year old guy traveling continents, his first house number was 82.

Every stranger I meet fascinates me; I am awestruck by their uniqueness — how they act, think, live, and exist in this world. Every stranger I meet, on a microbus from Kathmandu to Jhumka, on a bus from Venice to Ljubljana, or on a flight from Dubai to Sydney. I’ve forgotten the names of these loves of mine, but I remember their stories.

A Catholic boy told me about living his whole life in one place — I introduced him to Vedic Astrology, and he was astonished by the predictions made by Astrosage. LittleFishAlice was returning to Italy from Thailand; she’d been to Nepal and showed me her ‘om’ tattoo on the back of her neck — we were sitting on the bus stop, legs crossed, sharing a croissant. An artist told me he wanted to paint me naked — I had a backpack on my back and a few hours in that city. An 18-year-old traveling to Janakpur, married to her love, traveling to see her in-laws, both renowned doctors. A little boy — half English, half French, with his granddad on a park, eating ice cream on a bright sunny day in Russell Square Park. A stranger who stops me, points to the floor, and says, “Looks like you’ve dropped your smile.”

I fall in love too easily.

I miss sitting in a microbus and eavesdropping on people’s conversations. I miss holding eye contact with people and those 5 seconds of flirtation.

Tell me, how do I not fall in love.