I was at a dinner hosted by the Italian consulate when I spotted her. I had not seen her in 10 years, and there she was looking the same, talking animatedly to someone. I walked towards her to say hello before she disappeared into thin air again like the Invisible Man!

I first met Shyla Lopez in the early 90s when she became Miss India. She was from Bengaluru and we were doing a fashion show during the contest. I got on with her instantly. She started modelling and soon joined the catwalk circuit.
Totally affectionate and bubbling with warm energy, this girl was extremely likeable and stayed away from any controversies that could occur in this industry. She was reliable as long as she gave you her word, but the problem was that she rarely committed.
I chose to write about her because she was one person with radical rules of her own. She got up and left when she was done in her mind. I would meet her friends somewhere and they would ask me “Have you heard from Shyla? It’s been years! Is she lost again?” I would shake my head in vain.
“In a relationship when I found too much clutter, it was time to go” she said. “What about closure?” I asked her. “People hold on and wait for closure even when they know it’s over. I would rather protect myself from the hair pulling and stress of a relationship getting over and just disappear,” she said convincingly. Usually Shyla would not even know where she was going when she left. “You don’t do things like that,” I said to her pointing a finger at her as if she were a little girl. “What about heartache?” she shook her head and said, “They needed to evaluate why this happened, on their own time, after the anger had left them. They needed to figure out why I left them and value me. I was good whilst I was with the person. I cooked, cleaned and loved.” “But you have to stick around the horse you bet on, you just cannot leave when you choose to,” I protested. I am privy to the knowledge, that on each occasion, Shyla actually fell in love, and hence I know that she was not playing with hearts. “No point in hanging on and holding on to horses that don’t run to the finish line, especially after you have realised it,” she said. “In any case, it’s bad enough living with habits you don’t particularly like and there are always a million reasons to leave somebody,” she giggled. “Life is too short!”
Shyla may sound like a free promiscuous spirit but the funny part is that she is actually a simple likeable girl who you want to have around. “Guilt?” I asked her. “Didn’t you feel like a shmuck?” “Why guilty?” she shrugged. “It was never them. It was me, I had the problem, I could not adjust anymore.” And that’s how she justified breaking many many hearts.
“Where did you go each time?” I asked this friend who I would see intermittently over the years. “I never knew where I would go, sometimes to Xendo and would meditate for a month.”
I did not agree with her crazy concepts and she did not agree with me. “I would save them from eventual disaster. I hurt the most when I took that step.” Every person who had been in her life, today bares no animosity towards her. “They are all civil with me. Something must be right,” she said innocently.
“My biggest fear is losing my memory. Each day I have lived to the fullest and while it passes I document it in my mind. I respect everything and everybody that had interacted with me. I don’t want to lose that memory because that’s all that’s left of it,” she said. What do you say to someone like that who puts all her defiant rules about living so simply?
So where is she now? Disappearing from some cluttered relationship again? “I have found someone I want to live with forever,” she smiled. She lives in a village on the outskirts of Moscow, married to a Russian and they have a little boy together.
“When I first met him I disappeared as well but he found me after nine months all the way from Russia and taught me about confronting a situation. I also saw the way he loved and respected his mother,” she giggled softly visibly allowing her demons to rest.