With love Anna....

1

Hi, I’m Anna — 30 years old, self-made entrepreneur, and a mom of three.

Also… an engineer and a chartered accountant.

Yes, I know.

Even my qualifications look confused. 😂

It’s like North Pole 🤝 South Pole — but somehow, I made them coexist.

Now, before you think this is all success, happiness, and “wow perfect life,”

let me be honest — there were plenty of bitter, dramatic, slightly embarrassing moments too. 😌

And before I get into my love story (which, trust me, has content),

let me give you a quick trailer of the person I used to be.

I’m an ambivert — which basically means:

With my people → nonstop talking machine 🗣️

With others → silent mode activated 😶

In school, I had that classic “padippi” image —

the studious, well-behaved, innocent girl…

But inside?

Not that innocent. Let’s just say… thoughts were thinking. 😂

I had a few silent crushes — the kind that exist only in your imagination and nowhere else.

And somewhere along the way, I also found out that I was someone’s crush.

But here’s the twist —

no one ever told me directly.

Everything came through friends like some secret news channel:

“Someone likes you…”

“Guess who…”

And me waiting like:

“Can the actual person please come forward??” 😐

Honestly, I think I would have said yes…

if only they had the courage to say it to my face.

But no… everything stayed in the whisper zone.

Back then, I was fully focused on studies.

Extracurricular activities? Almost zero.

I was actually good at singing…

but my brain said,

“Why waste 1 hour singing when you can study?” 🎓

Wow. What a fun personality. 😂

So yeah, now you kind of get my mindset.

But deep inside… I had this one very specific weakness —

I was always attracted to boys who made an effort to impress me. 😌

My longest-running crush?

Oh, that was a long-term investment — from 4th standard to 7th standard.

Completely one-sided. No updates. No progress. Just… existence.

And somehow, by the end of 7th, I slowly lost interest.

Like a show you stop watching halfway.

Then came 8th standard —

where, like every serious student, I was fully focused on studies.

Also, I loved being a leader…

because in my dictionary,

leader = slightly bossy 😌😂

And then…

One fine rainy day in June…

just like any other day…

I was sitting there with my usual bossy energy…

It had been around two weeks since school started…

And then I saw someone entering the class.

Tall.

Actually… the tallest I had ever seen in my class.

We made eye contact.

And that’s it.

Game over. 😂

Just when life was peaceful and my “first rank queen” throne was stable, in walks him. The teacher marched in right behind him like she was introducing a new contestant on a reality show — “This is Sam, a transferee from another school.”

And in my head, alarms started ringing. 🚨

A transferee? From another school?

Great. Exactly what I needed — fresh competition with unknown power levels.

I didn’t hate him… but I also didn’t not hate him. My main concern?

Protect. The. First. Rank. At. All. Costs.

Now, the most entertaining part of 8th standard was definitely the Malayalam class. Plot twist — only a small group of us chose Malayalam, while the majority went for Sanskrit like it was some trending stock. So our class was this cozy little group of about 20 students, perfectly balanced like a cricket team — boys vs girls.

And of course, destiny decided that Sam and I should be in the same Malayalam class. Wow. Thank you, universe. Very funny.

To make things even more dramatic, our Malayalam teacher had a class right before ours… all the way in the main building on the second floor, while our classroom was practically in another district. So every single day, we got a solid 15-minute “free period” while the teacher made her journey across campus.

Which basically meant:

15 minutes of chaos.

15 minutes of gossip.

15 minutes of me secretly keeping an eye on Mr. Transferee Threat 👀

Until the teacher arrives, I’m basically the temporary principal of the class. Maintaining silence? My responsibility. 🤫

And yes… I take this job very seriously.

I go full boss mode — anyone who dares to talk gets their name written on the board. No mercy. No warnings. Just straight to the list.

But I’m not completely heartless… I also run a justice system. 😌

In the gap before the teacher arrives, I organize “games” for the accused students to redeem themselves.

Now, when I say games… I mean my version of games.

Which are… slightly questionable. Okay, very questionable.

Mostly it’s arm wrestling. Yes. Inside the classroom. Like some underground fight club.

Winner = name erased from the board.

Loser = stays there in shame.

And the rules? They change according to my mood.

Basically, I’m judge, jury, and entertainment committee.

Somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, Sam and I started talking more during these classes. Turns out, we had one dangerous thing in common — love for maths.

One day, both of us scored a perfect 80/80.

Same marks. Same happiness. Same gift from the teacher.

And me? I was extra excited. Because finally —

something only we shared. ✨

From that moment, I made it my personal mission to find more “porutham” (similarities) between us.

And let me tell you… I got creative.

Even if two things were completely opposite, I would still somehow connect them and say, “See? Same!” 😐

At this point, it wasn’t about logic anymore…

it was about commitment to the idea 😂. 

And of course, I found one more porutham — because clearly, I was running a full-time research project at this point. 😂

Our class had this very serious tradition where the class teacher would visit each student’s house to understand their “background.” Sounds very official… but for me, it became another opportunity.

So over two days, she went to visit houses. The next day in class, she casually announced,

“I visited both Anna’s and Sam’s houses around noon… and I had lunch at both homes. Thank you to both families.”

And me, sitting there like a detective who just cracked a case:

“Wait… noon? Lunch? BOTH houses??”

Immediately, my brain:

✔ Same class

✔ Same maths marks

✔ Same Malayalam class

✔ And now… same lunch timing visit??

I was like, this is not coincidence anymore, this is destiny-level porutham 😂

I silently added one more tick mark to my imaginary list and sat there feeling extremely satisfied… like I just proved a very important theorem that no one else even knew existed

See… I’m a little insane, but in a very organized way. 😌

I have collections. Not normal collections like stamps or coins… no no.

I collect marriage invitation cards and seeds of random plants and trees.

Yes. That’s my personality. 🙂

Now, this was back in 8th standard — the golden era of dramatic crushes. And I had a major crush on this 6-feet-tall boy. 

Any small chance I got, I would try to gather information about him like a secret agent.

Because obviously, one-sided lovers have a common syllabus:

Admire from distance ✅

Never confess ❌

Overthink everything ✅

Now comes the most unbelievable part…

I fell for him during an Independence Day speech competition. 🇮🇳

Yes. Not in slow motion. Not with background music.

But in a queue. Waiting for our turn. 😂

He was standing right in front of me, and I decided this was my moment to say something intelligent.

So I asked,

“Are you well prepared to get the prize?”

And his reaction?

Oh, it was a full 3-step performance:

First — confusion 😐 (“Why is this girl asking me this now?”)

Then — a slight pause

Finally — a confident, cheerful smile 😎 (“Of course I am” vibes)

And me?

That’s it. Done. Finished. Gone.

Somewhere between that confused look and that confident smile…

I fell head over heels. 💀😂

No dramatic music. No fireworks.

Just one expression… and my brain said,

“Yep, this is the one.”

After that historic “queue love story,” I didn’t just stop there. Oh no… I upgraded to full investigation mode. 🕵️‍♀️

I talked to him whenever I got the chance, and on top of that, I recruited my friends like a proper intelligence team —

“Find out more details.”

Name, house, hobbies… everything mattered. 😂

At one point, I even tried to locate his house. Like… what was the plan after that? I have no idea. But the effort was there.

Now comes the funniest part.

In Malayalam class (where I am obviously the leader… because of course I am 😌), I randomly decided to give him directions to my house.

Not just verbal directions…

I literally drew a map. 🗺️

Like Google Maps before smartphones existed.

“Turn left, then right, then you’ll see my house.”

Why did I do that?

No idea. Even today, it remains one of life’s greatest mysteries. 🤦‍♀️😂

Then suddenly… plot twist.

9th standard came, and our conversations slowly started decreasing. No big fight, no drama… just slowly fading like network signal in a village.

And by the time 10th standard arrived…

I had a full personality update.

From:

Bossy class leader + secret lover + map distributor

To:

Quiet, focused, minding-my-own-business version 2.0 😶

I became kind of an introvert… just studying, doing my own work, and not really talking much.

Honestly, if 8th standard me saw 10th standard me, she would be like:

“Who are you and what have you done with my confidence?” 😂

At that time, while everyone in class thought I was just being “quiet and mysterious,” I was actually dealing with a whole secret health storyline that nobody knew about.

Arts Day came — the day where everyone is dancing, singing, enjoying life like it’s a festival…

And me?

Two-day hospital package. 🏥✨

Reason: kidney stone.

And let me tell you… the pain was not “ouch”… it was more like

“WHY IS LIFE LIKE THIS???” 😭

Add to that some bonus fatigue and other issues — basically my body said,

“Let’s test her patience.”

So while others were collecting memories from Arts Day,

I was collecting… hospital bills and life lessons. 🙂

Somewhere in all this, my brain came to a very dramatic conclusion:

“Okay, so clearly… I am only good at studying.” 🎓

And then another thought joined the party:

“I should not make my parents spend money on my education.”

So my new life mission became:

Score high → Get merit → Survive.

No distractions. No nonsense. Only marks.

At the same time, my overthinking department was working overtime:

“No one likes you”

“You don’t have real friends”

“If you don’t study, you’re useless”

Wow. Such supportive inner voice. Very kind. 👏😂

Because of all this, I slowly built an invisible wall around myself.

Maintained distance from everyone like I was in some “Do Not Disturb” mode.

So yeah… while others saw a quiet girl focusing on studies,

inside it was full drama, pain, overthinking, and a very determined topper mindset 

So because I had turned into this silent, “talk-only-if-necessary” version of myself, poor Sam also slowly reduced talking. Like… what will he do, talk to a wall? 😶😂

Anyway, everyone was busy preparing for exams — full tension, full focus, no time for emotions…

But emotions had other plans for me.

One fine day, I got shocking news:

Sam proposed to a girl.

And not just any girl…

The girl sitting right next to me. 🙂

Universe really said, “Let’s make this extra dramatic.”

I was like —

“Excuse me?? WHAT?? WHEN?? HOW?? WHY HER???” 😭

Instant heartbreak. No warning. No buffering. Just direct hit. 💔

But then my logical brain tried to act mature:

“Hello madam, you never confessed. How will he know? You have zero rights to be sad.”

And my emotional brain was like:

“I understand… but also… let me cry a little.” 🥲😂

That incident really hit me hard.

And then comes another classic porutham moment.

One day, me and my friend were given the very important responsibility of checking identification marks for the SSLC certificate — using slips and Excel sheet like proper professionals. 😌

While checking, suddenly my eyes caught something…

Sam and I had the SAME identification mark.

SAME. IDENTICAL.

My brain immediately:

“PORUTHAM!!! 😄✨”

I was sooo excited to add one more tick to my legendary list…

But then reality gently tapped my shoulder and said:

“Relax. He’s already proposed to someone else.” 🙂

So I just sat there like…

“Yes, we have matching identification marks…

but not matching life decisions.” 😂💔

 And yeah… that whole situation didn’t just pass like a small scene — it had long-term effects.

I slowly lost interest in everything that involved people.

Class interactions? No thanks.

Farewell functions? Hard pass.

Writing autographs? Please, I’ll skip.

School trips? Not even tempted.

Basically, if it involved “fun with classmates,” I was like:

“Nope, not available. System under maintenance.” 😶😂

Then after some time, plot twist again…

I came to know that the girl he proposed to was actually cheating on him — like managing multiple storylines at the same time.

And suddenly my emotions were confused again:

Heart: “See?? You deserved better!”

Brain: “Focus… exams are coming.”

Me: “But… poor Sam.” 😐

Because honestly, I felt he was genuine… and he got betrayed. That part didn’t feel right at all.

But at the same time…

the damage that was already done to my heart?

Yeah… that wasn’t going anywhere.

It was like a deep cut that healed… but left a permanent “emotional scar” reminder.

So there I was —

not talking much, avoiding everything, feeling bad for him…

and also quietly carrying my own little heartbreak story like,

“Okay life… noted.” 💔🙂 

So obviously, I didn’t just sit there and cry like a normal person.

No no… I had techniques. 😌

Whenever the pain hit, I would take a notebook and write:

“I hate you Sam”

again… and again… and again…

Until it looked less like writing and more like

modern art titled: “Emotional Damage.” 🎨😂

At this point, even my notebook was like,

“Girl… please move on.”

And then I made a life-changing decision.

Dramatic background music playing 🎶

“I will join a girls-only school for higher secondary.”

Even though I didn’t like the idea much, I was like:

“This is it. No boys = No love = No heartbreak.”

Flawless logic. 👏😂

Basically, I created my own “Love-Free Zone.”

And guess what?

I was fully determined —

“I will NEVER fall for anyone again.”

(8th standard me would be very proud of this declaration.)

After that, we only met once — during the school annual day, collecting prizes like two people who definitely did not share a whole emotional backstory. 🙂

No proper conversation, nothing.

Just… existence in the same place.

And then, life moved on.

First year of higher secondary was almost over…

I was stable, focused, emotionally under control (or so I thought)…

And then suddenly —

BOOM.

I accidentally met him again.

Because obviously…

life was like,

“Story not finished yet 😏”

2

It was Christmas Eve, and like every year, my family and I were on our grand “crib-hopping” tour across churches. Somewhere around 8 PM, in the middle of all the lights and decorations, I spotted Sam—yes, that Sam from high school. I saw him. He did NOT see me. Classic.

I nudged my mom and pointed him out. Her immediate reaction?

“Go talk to him!”

And me, without even thinking: “No way, he’s too haughty.”

Meanwhile, my heart was doing the exact opposite—secretly praying, “God, please make him turn around and come talk to me.”

And guess what? God really said, “Say less.”

Next thing I know, he walks right up to me, shakes my hand, and says “Merry Christmas.”

I froze. Like… system error. Brain stopped working. Electricity-level shock.

Then our parents joined in, started chatting like long-lost relatives, asking about studies, future plans, life, everything.

And just like that, we said goodbye and moved on…

But honestly, that one moment? Totally unexpected and slightly embarrassing for my “he’s haughty” comment 😂

That day, I came back home like I had just experienced a life-changing event.

First thing I did?

I looked at my hand…

THE hand.

The one he shook. ✋✨

I was just staring at it like it had suddenly become a celebrity.

And then… I did something that I still question today.

I actually…

kissed my own hand. 💀😂

Yes. That happened.

And wait — it gets better.

I made a firm decision:

“This hand will NOT be washed today.”

Hygiene took a backseat. Emotions took the driver’s seat.

I literally went the whole night protecting that hand like it was some sacred artifact.

If anyone had asked me to wash my hands, I’d be like:

“Sorry, this is not just a hand anymore… this is a memory.” 😌😂

So after that magical Christmas Eve moment?

Nothing. Absolutely no contact. Like we both vanished from each other’s lives again… as if that scene was just a limited-time festival offer.

Fast forward—school ended, life moved on, and I joined engineering. One fine day, our college decided to bless us with a strike (because why not?), so I happily rushed to catch a bus back home.

I was just about to get into the bus—main character moment, wind blowing, dramatic exit—when suddenly I hear:

“Annaaa!”

I turned back, slightly confused… and boom—Sam again.

At this point, I’m like,

“Excuse me?? Why does he keep appearing like a surprise guest entry?” 😂

I definitely did NOT expect to see him there, at that exact time, in that exact chaos.

He casually asks, “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

And I’m standing there thinking,

“Sir, I was about to escape this situation peacefully…”

We chatted for a couple of minutes—nothing too dramatic this time (sadly, no electric shock effect 😌)—and then I got into the bus and went home like a responsible citizen.

But honestly…

This guy’s timing? Suspiciously cinematic 🎬