Day 24: This post is written for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' as part of the prompt Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.
We watched Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na in the morning at Eros, Churchgate, holding hands, cuddling and stealing passionate kisses, hiding behind the veil of darkness, a privilege enjoyed in the theater.
We couldn’t leave each other’s hands and eyes. She leaned her head on my shoulder, as I run my fingers down on her hair and cheek, stroking her lips with my finger. Swagata smiles coyly and blushing, turning her face away, at times scolding me, ‘Let’s watch the film peacefully, na.’
Today, I saw a new Swagata, a sensitive girl who giggle at silly jokes cum japes and wiped her tears with the pink handkerchief and tissue papers. I smile, wondering, “She is so sensitive, something she keeps guarded to herself like a secret and pretends to be someone who can never be hurt by anything. I gotta win her heart and sweep her off the feet.” Often, she would pull my hair and I would stare openly at her, to see her tears. “I can’t help falling in love with her and even while in tears, she is beautiful like a beautiful angel. I don’t want this 'carpe diem' moment to die.”
In the evening, we spent the night together at Tushar and Tania’s flat, as they left for Goa in the morning. I am sitting on the bed, toggling with the house key, eagerly waiting for Swagata to get out of the shower. I can hear a cute voice singing, ‘Tip tip Barsa Pani’ as gentle drop of water falls.
She seductively walks inside the room, her luscious body wrapped in a white towel. Her eyes, red with passion, eyes me and biting her lips.
She smirks at me, “What are you looking at?”
“I am not admiring your hot body but a song is playing in my mind, Paani mein Nahake aur bhi Namkeen hogayi hai (You have become more savoury/sensual after getting inside the water).”
She blushes, “Oho!”
Swagata drops the towel and inches towards me, the collar of my shirt, running her finger on my face. I start kissing her, caressing her flawless body, running my hand on the upper part of her body. We made love that night. It is the most beautiful night which saw two become one. She finally said, “I love you.” I held her in my arms, “I love you, too.”
We are drunk on Vodka, her Apple flavored Smirnoff, perfect for the shared intimacy. She gleans, “Do you mind if I ask you something about your ex? Was she as good as me?”
This question struck me like a volcano and it was not the occasion to spoil our intimate moment. “Baby, you are the best. No, she cannot be as good as you. I hate thinking about her, her vision flashes back to the mind irritation and spurt of anger.”
She is adamant, “See, she is no longer with you and why get irritated over an in-existent relation. I want to know you better and you can ask me anything, about my ex-boyfriends and flings.”
I eye her, “Are you sure you won’t get jealous? Be ready to roll on the floor with laughter.”
She asks, “Do I look insecure?”
I hold her by the waist as we sit on the bed, ready to narrate her to my story with Koyal who made me lose my mental sanity.