An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 17

Day 17: This post is written for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' for the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 17

The furious sea waves hit the rocks at Marine Drive. We walk, hand in hand, by the sea feeling the outburst of waves and enjoying the rain drops falling on our faces. It’s been three weeks that we first in Mumbai and we stole moments of togetherness, roaming the streets of South Mumbai.

The burst of wind shakes our body, propelling Swagata to hold up tightly to my arms and it brought a smile to my face. She made faces, “Why are you smiling?” I naughtily remarks, “I thank the wind for bringing you closer to me and wish that the fury of the season is invoked every single day.”

“Haha! So Phunny. Don’t come to close for comfort or try to be over romantic, Mister,” She sarcastically says.

“See, who is speaking.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, right,” I emulate her cute facial expression, faking anger and irritation.

She slapped me on my hand.

“Ouch.”

“You stop pretending. You are not hurt.”

“Yeah, you are an artist who is stamping a slap on my hand. How about designing your artistic creation on my lip?”

“Art is not about intimacy and something felt by the aesthetic senses. Haha! dream on. It shall never happen.”

I tease her, “That’s the problem with art people. They think too highly of themselves and, may be, too passionate to draw inspiration. I am your muse and surprised you are looking beyond horizons that will make you sketch designs.”

“You don’t understand the complexity of art on canvas. It’s a vision beyond intimacy. Gosh! Scary what you think of art and your breed will destroy art. Spare me, please,” She folds her hands doing a Namaste.

I draw her towards me and we hold each other, looking into each other’s eyes before passionately kissing in the rain. We are completely drenched and couldn’t care less about the world. We are in love.

We hailed a cab and as the driver zooms past Marine Drive in the pool of water, Swagata rests her head on my shoulder as I gently caress her hand and stroking her lips with a feather lying on the back seat.

In the evening, she sends an sms, “It’s one of the most wonderful evening spent together and the memory of monsoon will stay forever with me. Btw, great news. Looking forward to spend three months with you. Guess what? My internship with the Jehangir Art Gallery has been accepted. Details tomorrow. I am having dinner with uncle and aunty. Love, Xoxo.

I can’t contain my excitement and finally, she is staying longer than her one month stint in Mumbai. It’s the best ever monsoon. Love you Mumbai. I did a jig in the house, singing loudly, ‘Aaj Mausam Bada Beimaan Hai, Bada Shaitaan Hai (It’s a naughty and devilish weather today).