Age 7: 1969 – 70

There is a girl in my class called Patricia Bastin. I like her a lot. In fact, I am in love with her. This means that I must marry her some day. I hope that my being a foreigner won’t be an issue, but it does give me a sense of disadvantage, of inadequacy. I’m not sure how this process works, but I imagine that Patricia and I will get married one day.

My friend Andrew Baker senses my affection for Patricia. One day he tells me that himself and Patricia have decided to get married, and have been discussing which church to get married in. I am heartbroken. How could I have been so stupid as to think that Patricia would marry me? I am different, a foreigner, and I don’t go to church.

Age 17: 1979 – 80

One day, Andrew Warmington asks me if I would like to help him to sell tickets for the sixth form plays. These are two pieces by Tom Stoppard: After Magritte and The Real Inspector Hound. I agree and quite enjoy the sales process, as well as being part of the administration of the plays when they are performed for three consecutive nights.

There are female roles in the plays, and these are performed by girls from the Lady Eleanor Holles School. Katharine (from my ‘History and Philosophy of Science’ class) is one of them, but there is another girl called Angela, who is breathtakingly beautiful. She has a perfect English accent, a sweet smile and delightful poise. She is everything that I long for and surely can never have.

I hang around backstage with her every evening and attempt to chat with her. She responds kindly, although I am less than inspiring.

The three nights of the performance come to an end, and we all loiter around the drama hall for a little while (it is Friday night), enjoying the exhilaration of a job well done. It is late when I leave with great reluctance, and I am gutted at the knowledge that I will not see Angela again regularly, apart from the odd chance meeting in and outside the schools. The weekend passes with both joy and frustration; I have met someone wonderful, but I don’t know how to meet her again.

Without a doubt, I have fallen in love with her, and this clouds my normally clear thinking and affects my behaviour. I cannot concentrate in class; I doodle silly things in my notebooks. I make sure that I am as smart and well turned out as can be, lest we have a chance meeting.

The following Tuesday afternoon in the Physics laboratory, Paul Davey – who is something of a loose cannon – suddenly pulls my perfectly knotted tie, just for fun. Its neatness and precise proportions are to him like a red rag to a bull.

I blurt out in a moment of reckless abandon, ‘Stop it! Angela might see me!’

Paul Davey cannot believe his luck; I have dropped a marvellous gem right in his lap. He yells out, ‘Imran’s in love!’

Age 19: 1981 – 82

A couple of weeks before the exams, I have a brilliant idea; something unique that Janice will remember forever. I need Milton for this. He is an excellent songwriter, guitar player and singer (I cannot sing to save my life). I put the proposition to Milton. In exchange for six Yorkie chocolate bars, he will write and record an album of songs for Janice, sung on my behalf. I will give this tape to her, and she will know how I feel about her and be overwhelmed. Our relationship will be a fait accompli.

Milton is delighted to do this, for two reasons: Yorkie chocolate bars are expensive and anything’s better than revising for exams.

I meet him in his room many times over the weekend of this project. We review the lyrics and he composes the tunes …

… Finally, all five superb songs are ready. The recording session is in my room; the tape is prepared on the little TV/radio/cassette recorder which my parents gave me for my eighteenth birthday. We record one song at a time; the tension is palpable as we need to get through each track without error or interruption, but the session proceeds with very few retakes. Finally, it’s done. The tape is fantastic!