Moment of Clarity

On rap, a girl I liked, and finding answers

“I only read spiritual books.” She said.

She was 18 — my age at the time. Her skin was flawless. I remember it. She was beautiful, and I was smitten by that perfection. I recall being with her one day at the undergraduate female hostel where young boys wasted their time having those windy conversations that are the prerogative of youth. That was when she said it: In a matter-of-fact way that announced the permanence of her conviction.

We had been talking about books — one thing the 18 year old me loved talking about the most; and she had replied.

“I only read spiritual books.”

I was taken aback.

She was a medical student at the time and it was unlikely that the literature of instruction for her training was spiritual. Even at 18, partitioning the knowledge buried in books by religion or spirituality didn’t make sense.

“Those are school books.” She replied, countering my sarcasm when I made reference to her course of study and medium of instruction.

“I have to read that to pass my exams. But every other book I read must edify my spirit.”

It sounded stupid to me. I thought that was a narrow path to walk in life and she didn’t seem like one I’d like to walk the long haul with. We remained friends for much longer, but from that moment, I no longer found her as attractive.