The First Kiss
She was confused when we met for the first time.
The facile words and the imperturbable self-possession I’m now known for were missing in my instinct back then. It was a time when my not so cool sounding Hindi, Bengali and Oriya slang at my vocabulary was getting replaced by “fuck”, “bitch”, “asshole”, etc. It was a time when my mom had thrown the “boti” (a sharp device used for cutting and slicing chicken at kitchen) over my left foot for using one of them at home. The cut mark still exits – I call it a life time award and I’ve more.
She was confused and I laughed at her beautifully confused looks.
I was 16 then and she was 17 and five fingers shorter than me. Both stupid – Both insane – Both terribly immatured than the average folks. But she was my senior at school.
She had made fun of me on hearing my daily rounds around her home for the past 2 years. Her birthday, the date her mother died of cancer, the date she resumed schooling and was found pretty normal and the date when I noticed her for the first time at Ramakant Sir’s tuition were in my nerves. She was dumbstruck when I recited the when’s & what’s about her.
That was the first time I heard the term “infatuation”. She introduced. And it took quite sometime to pronounce it fluently. You see, I still hadn’t mastered the subtle art of approaching older women. Never really understood how to put the whole one little bunny over the bridge, and then hide it below the hedge and lastly pull it out by the evil bit.
I made fun of her when she asked the meaning of “fuck you” to Bala, talking next to me. Some girl - not so divine and not so graceful, abused her and she didn’t know the meaning. That was when we first talked. We had become friends instantly and very much inseparable. We were together when we first climbed the 7-storeyed water tank, when we started developing this new hobby of hiking to unknown lands, when we first smoked the full cigarette, when she tore her bra while hiking (oddest day of my life so far), when Titanic were screened on local cable TV, when she was asked out on her first date (not by me).
And then I decided to move to a different city for my JEE preparation. It was her farewell party, 17th February 2001.
We were sitting on top stairway of the lab building at school – both silent for over an hour. Just sat there looking at the blanked walls. It was total blank – 4 walls - 2 minds - everything within – everything around. Didn’t even look at each other and didn’t want to cry either. That was supposed to be the end of one year of a secret friendship at a township where people would never understand our chemistry.
My friends called out from somewhere. They were ready to leave for the only-seniors party. And we didn’t want them to discover us. I looked at her. And did something I had never expected to do. I kissed her, kissed her for the longest possible time. But something was amiss. She wasn’t responding. Her lips weren’t moving. I kissed her harder, pulled her closer to me – Nothing - I only withdrew when I saw her tears. I couldn’t close my eyes, nor was she. Her face was expressionless. She didn’t say anything.
Heard somebody on the stairs. And I stood up in a daze. Said - goodbye. She still didn’t say anything. I stood there for a moment and then climbed down the stairs. She was silent and also beautifully confused.
On the way home and back there I did not speak to anyone. All I could think about was her. Had I done something wrong? Had I destroyed the only friendship which meant anything to me? Had I …
I was seventeen years old. And that was my first kiss.
_______________________________________
May, 2006 - Terminal 1B, Domestic Airport, New Delhi.
I was waiting for her. We hadn’t met or spoke to each other for almost seven years. She had found me through the internet. She was in the city.
First 14 flights of the day were cancelled - Tremendous chaos and crowd. Nevertheless, it seemed worst than Delhi railway station. I was moving around impatiently avoiding being noticed by my parents and the worst follower – my sister, and was least interested in the cricket match on the television. A man walked up to me and inquired about the score and then went ahead and gave me a lecture on the importance of Ganguly in the team, and surprisingly I wasn’t interested. I nodded and smiled, appreciating his sympathy and concern for the team, while all the time wishing that he’d find a small unassuming puddle of muck and drown Chappel, Moore and himself and discuss the issue. Moved out of his sight and choose a corner beside the stairs to the Grand’s outlet.
Somebody tugged at my sleeve and turned me around. And before I knew it I was being kissed - kissed passionately. It was her. And we were kissing. She drew me closer and we went on kissing. This time she could close my eyes, so I copied. We stopped when we heard a loud applause. It wasn’t for us. Somebody had hit a boundary (maybe Kaif) and people were celebrating. We laughed. The way we used to. I picked up her small luggage and arm-in-arm we left for the lunch at Grand.
“That was how I should have kissed you then”, she said. “I hope I made up for it - at last”
“More than you’d ever know”, I replied and smiled.
Our Air Sahara flight was delayed by 8 hours and finally got cancelled when they managed 4 tickets on a different flight. We were together all through this time. And my sister was SMSing me the flight status. Later I discovered that she found us in-arms and knew what exactly to do.
Just when I left her, all the guilt that had built up over the last seven years has been swept away. I have regained a good friend. And now I know the meaning of those tears.
And I can look back fondly and say - that was my first kiss.
She works for a top MNC - happily married and plans to have a baby in the next couple of years.
The facile words and the imperturbable self-possession I’m now known for were missing in my instinct back then. It was a time when my not so cool sounding Hindi, Bengali and Oriya slang at my vocabulary was getting replaced by “fuck”, “bitch”, “asshole”, etc. It was a time when my mom had thrown the “boti” (a sharp device used for cutting and slicing chicken at kitchen) over my left foot for using one of them at home. The cut mark still exits – I call it a life time award and I’ve more.
She was confused and I laughed at her beautifully confused looks.
I was 16 then and she was 17 and five fingers shorter than me. Both stupid – Both insane – Both terribly immatured than the average folks. But she was my senior at school.
She had made fun of me on hearing my daily rounds around her home for the past 2 years. Her birthday, the date her mother died of cancer, the date she resumed schooling and was found pretty normal and the date when I noticed her for the first time at Ramakant Sir’s tuition were in my nerves. She was dumbstruck when I recited the when’s & what’s about her.
That was the first time I heard the term “infatuation”. She introduced. And it took quite sometime to pronounce it fluently. You see, I still hadn’t mastered the subtle art of approaching older women. Never really understood how to put the whole one little bunny over the bridge, and then hide it below the hedge and lastly pull it out by the evil bit.
I made fun of her when she asked the meaning of “fuck you” to Bala, talking next to me. Some girl - not so divine and not so graceful, abused her and she didn’t know the meaning. That was when we first talked. We had become friends instantly and very much inseparable. We were together when we first climbed the 7-storeyed water tank, when we started developing this new hobby of hiking to unknown lands, when we first smoked the full cigarette, when she tore her bra while hiking (oddest day of my life so far), when Titanic were screened on local cable TV, when she was asked out on her first date (not by me).
And then I decided to move to a different city for my JEE preparation. It was her farewell party, 17th February 2001.
We were sitting on top stairway of the lab building at school – both silent for over an hour. Just sat there looking at the blanked walls. It was total blank – 4 walls - 2 minds - everything within – everything around. Didn’t even look at each other and didn’t want to cry either. That was supposed to be the end of one year of a secret friendship at a township where people would never understand our chemistry.
My friends called out from somewhere. They were ready to leave for the only-seniors party. And we didn’t want them to discover us. I looked at her. And did something I had never expected to do. I kissed her, kissed her for the longest possible time. But something was amiss. She wasn’t responding. Her lips weren’t moving. I kissed her harder, pulled her closer to me – Nothing - I only withdrew when I saw her tears. I couldn’t close my eyes, nor was she. Her face was expressionless. She didn’t say anything.
Heard somebody on the stairs. And I stood up in a daze. Said - goodbye. She still didn’t say anything. I stood there for a moment and then climbed down the stairs. She was silent and also beautifully confused.
On the way home and back there I did not speak to anyone. All I could think about was her. Had I done something wrong? Had I destroyed the only friendship which meant anything to me? Had I …
I was seventeen years old. And that was my first kiss.
_______________________________________
May, 2006 - Terminal 1B, Domestic Airport, New Delhi.
I was waiting for her. We hadn’t met or spoke to each other for almost seven years. She had found me through the internet. She was in the city.
First 14 flights of the day were cancelled - Tremendous chaos and crowd. Nevertheless, it seemed worst than Delhi railway station. I was moving around impatiently avoiding being noticed by my parents and the worst follower – my sister, and was least interested in the cricket match on the television. A man walked up to me and inquired about the score and then went ahead and gave me a lecture on the importance of Ganguly in the team, and surprisingly I wasn’t interested. I nodded and smiled, appreciating his sympathy and concern for the team, while all the time wishing that he’d find a small unassuming puddle of muck and drown Chappel, Moore and himself and discuss the issue. Moved out of his sight and choose a corner beside the stairs to the Grand’s outlet.
Somebody tugged at my sleeve and turned me around. And before I knew it I was being kissed - kissed passionately. It was her. And we were kissing. She drew me closer and we went on kissing. This time she could close my eyes, so I copied. We stopped when we heard a loud applause. It wasn’t for us. Somebody had hit a boundary (maybe Kaif) and people were celebrating. We laughed. The way we used to. I picked up her small luggage and arm-in-arm we left for the lunch at Grand.
“That was how I should have kissed you then”, she said. “I hope I made up for it - at last”
“More than you’d ever know”, I replied and smiled.
Our Air Sahara flight was delayed by 8 hours and finally got cancelled when they managed 4 tickets on a different flight. We were together all through this time. And my sister was SMSing me the flight status. Later I discovered that she found us in-arms and knew what exactly to do.
Just when I left her, all the guilt that had built up over the last seven years has been swept away. I have regained a good friend. And now I know the meaning of those tears.
And I can look back fondly and say - that was my first kiss.
She works for a top MNC - happily married and plans to have a baby in the next couple of years.
C’est la vie - This is Life - And you have to take it the way it is.
posted by ... at 5:34 PM
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