Glancing at our troupe, he notices Diya and Ron are still at it and Saumya busy acting coy with Kartik who’s indulging in some serious flirting. I’m the odd one out.
“Come with me, kiddo.” He motions me to join him and I go with my heart singing. I’m willing to ignore him calling me ‘kiddo’ as long as I get to be with him.
Ajaz leads the way, into the lobby of the building, with me following him in silence. I’m still shaken up by the frigid encounter in the car and welcome a break from the cramped interior of the car. He punches the elevator buttons, zooming us up the high rise.
Getting off on the twenty fourth floor, he heads for an apartment on the far left corner. He peeks through the open door. Although soft music is on, inside it’s dark. Dim light reflects from the city lights outside. My eyes adjust to see many figures in the shadows of a large living room. I narrow my eyes, not quite able to understand what is going on. Then I hear a soft moan and almost gasp. Of course! They are couples making out in the shadows of the room! Having never witnessed quite such a spectacle, I have the grace to blush. Thank goodness, Ajaz can’t see my Rudolph nose again!
He steps into the apartment throwing me an apologetic smile. “I think the party’s over but let’s see if I can get hold of the guy who invited us and get us something to eat. You game?”
I nod and begin following him as he steps over dark shapes engrossed in themselves. It’s too dim to actually see where we are headed but I assume he’s aware of the layout. I keep my eyes narrowed, trying to focus on his dark shape ahead of me. I now have clear vision of couples; some who are smooching in corners, some wrapped around each other while others swaying to the soft music.
Ajaz increases his lead and I reach out, afraid of losing myself in the dark. I almost touch his shirt but before that as though sensing my anxiety, he reaches behind him and captures my hand in his. Just as easy as that.
His touch sends shivers through me, tingling my heightened senses. He senses my reaction, stops and turns. I bump into him walking right into the wall of his muscular chest. His hands get the excuse to capture my tiny waist. He’s very tall, six feet two to my five feet three and so very attractive. In the dark, only one side of his face is visible. There’s an absence of colour but I know his pupils are dilated and he is staring at me with a weird look.
“You okay?” he whispers.
I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. He’s too close, radiating sensual heat that strips me of rational thought processes. I stare at him wide-eyed. I don’t know if it’s the seductive atmosphere or the slow gyrating bodies around us but in that moment, I know we are both lost.
Ajaz puts his arms around me, nudging me closer. My palms are on his chest, my fingers spreading and revelling in the feel of his beating heart under them. Much shorter than him, I am glad my heels allow the top of my head to reach his chin. I know his eyes are a dark whiskey shot and I can get drunk in their depths.
We don’t speak, our eyes watching each other, mine wide and bright, his hooded and risqué. I’m burning with a need I don’t understand. I think I’m on fire within. I can feel every nerve ending tingling with a sensation I’ve never felt before. Instinct makes me step in closer, my fingers curling and clutching the soft material of his knit shirt. My head tilts up toward him. His raw, male scent intoxicates my senses.
It’s warm, it’s heated, it’s heady. It’s somehow closer. I can’t explain it but I can sense him in a way I’ve never felt before. I can actually sense his feelings, his desire, his primal need for me. I can sense it because I feel the same.
Ajaz dips his head towards me, his tussled hair flopping over his forehead. My breath catches while one of my hands slides up towards his neck. It comes to stop over the erratic pulse at the side of his neck. His desire for me is out of control. I know he’s never felt this for anyone before. No, I’m not being vain. I just know. How do I know? Why do I know what he feels?
“Prish.” My name on his lips is a breath across mine. He hovers close, not quite touching. A gentle pressure from his fingers on my back urges me forward. I can feel a slow burn that starts from that point of contact through my sheer top down to the very centre of my core. Self-awareness of my sexuality is rising from the depths of my soul. I can hear my heart beating like a runaway train in my ears. I know he’s holding back and I know I want him with the same desperation he is feeling. I want my first kiss and I want it to be from him.
My other hand slides up to match the first one, my fingers sinking into the hair at the bottom of his nape. His restraint breaks, he moves his head forward and in the next instant his lips are on mine.
The kiss is everything that I imagined and much more. His lips are soft, gentle and needy, all at the same time. Something wild bursts free in me and slams my heart into my chest. Raw desire. We are close to a wall and I let him press me into it. My hands slide up to sink into his hair pulling him closer. I’m ecstatic, almost delirious with the innumerable sensations assaulting me with a frenzy. His teeth nip at my lower lip. My mouth obeys the carnal command and opens to experience my first truly deep kiss. His tongue enters my mouth, exploring my desire, my need for him, chasing every sane thought out of my fuddled brains. He owns me. The unbidden thought engulfs me. I’m his and he’s mine. There can be no doubt.
A slow, cold burn starts somewhere near my toes, creeping up my legs. It’s an iciness I have felt before. It’s out of my control. While I burn hot, this is frigid, raw, carnal, lascivious, shameless, all-consuming desire. It’s coiling at the bottom of my belly, creating an ache I need to extinguish. It’s an alien feeling, creeping into the very depths of my soul. I’m not hot anymore. I’m cold. I’m needy. I’m aroused.
Ajaz feels it too. The shift is subtle and yet overwhelming. It draws him into me like a parched soul in search of a bottomless ocean of desire. He all but slams me into the wall, his hands moving down to grab my bottom. I chase his tongue back into his mouth to get drunk on his essence as if my life depends on it. I’m a goner but this isn’t me.
I press into him, my frenzied hands kneading his hair. I want him closer. I want his desire. I want him. Our tongues continue their intimate dance, I can’t break contact, I don’t care if I breathe, I want all of him. His hands are cupping my bottom, he is rubbing his hard desire into me. My senses climb higher and higher. I’m surrounded by fog. It’s cold and yet I’m not. We’re one, the heat from me and the cold within.
I moan into his mouth, he drinks in the small sound I make. You have to let go, I tell myself, what are you doing? How are you so lost? Get a grip! Get a grip!
Common sense rises behind my closed eyes, bursting to the surface, casting aside the frigid grip. I float down to earth and he comes to his senses with me. He breaks our delirious kiss but stays with me, resting his forehead against mine, cursing under his breath.
He’s regained control but doesn’t let go. Instead he trails feather light kisses across my jaw and down the side of my neck. It’s the ambience, the seduction of the senses, the dark desires around us that isn’t letting him go of me. I’m strangely sated and yet incomplete. I know I need more from him but not tonight. I make a slow descend from the heavens into my uncomfortable heels. I can still feel his hard desire flush against my belly. He wants me. The thought makes me heady. It makes me feel victorious.
“You’re an amazing kisser,” he whispers, nibbling at my ear lobe. I’m aware he’s trying to reign in his desire. Well, if he continues like this I don’t see how that’s possible! But I can’t complain. I don’t want to ever. I want to go in for seconds.
“That was my first kiss,” I whisper back. I want to kiss him softer, gentler, longer. It’s a good thing the raw sexuality of my earlier need has disappeared. I’m a tad confused. The cold I felt in my body is dissipating. I should be hot and bothered. Why am I cold? Were the romance novels wrong in their description of an amorous encounter?
“I’m glad it was from me.” His statement is bold, proud, concei
ted. I’m okay with it. I’m just as glad it was him.
His face is still close to mine. He can’t help himself. Nor can I. We move together till our lips cling to engage in the most sensuous manner possible. We’re giving each other memories. The thought disappoints me. Why do I feel like that?
Ajaz eases back to stand up straight. I can see him grinning. He traces my lips with his thumb. “You are amazing, kiddo. That kiss was unbelievable.”
I gape at him unsure whether I should be happy at his comment or annoyed. I settle for the former. These were my first two kisses by the most handsome guy I have ever known. How can I be annoyed? Besides I have a serious crush on him so if he says I’m amazing then I must be.
We leave the apartment, not having traced the host. Just in time to meet back with our troupe who were ‘worried’ about us for having gone for over fifteen minutes. Was that all it has been? Somehow it felt more.
* * *
Four
A broken heart.
What is the natural progression of a relationship after a couple has shared an intimate kiss? Two intimate kisses. The books claim it is followed by flowers, bouquets, surprises, gifts, dates, special somethings and so much more. In reality, it isn’t always so.
~ ~ ~
Memories – Prisha – 1990.
It’s February and I haven’t seen or heard from Ajaz since that awesome New Year encounter. The memory of our kiss has lingered with me, making me alternately an angel to be around and a devil with a snarky attitude.
The lack of communication is telling on my confidence. Why hasn’t he called or tried to get in touch with me? Something tells me in the light of the day, he’s ashamed of his behaviour. He doesn’t have to word it for me. Since that night, I can sense him. His indecisive thoughts, his sinful dreams, his heart’s desire. I know he wants me even if he can’t. Something has happened between us that night. Something dark, sinister, murky and yet bright, transparent and innocent.
My doorbell rings. I open it to find my troupe of friends come to fetch me for the movies. Sara, Nikhil, Priya, Gary and Nisha. They have known each other since birth while I met up with them when I moved into the neighbourhood at the age of nine. We’re all within a year or two younger or older in age to each other. Sara, Nikhil and I are particularly thick but Priya is Nik’s girlfriend so she gets to tag along everywhere.
They have resented my defection on New Year’s Eve but I can’t tell them it was because of Ajaz. I detest Saumya and I would never have changed my own plans for her if Ajaz wasn’t supposed to be there. Anyways, as thick as we are, there are some things I don’t share with my friends, like the cold witch who haunts me and the boys I crush on.
Nikhil is my best buddy. We have the same taste in movies, songs, books, actors, places; we even like the same colours. The others often accuse us of twinning but we don’t care. Sara often says I should be going steady with him instead of Priya but that doesn’t seem right. We’re not attracted to each other in that way. At least I’m not and if he were then he wouldn’t have asked Priya to be his girlfriend, would he?
The movie is playing in town, we live in the suburbs of Bombay. It takes us an hour to reach there but we enjoy every bit of the movie, which is a horror movie by the way. Movies sell me well and I’m not ashamed to say I screamed when a zombie chomped off the guy sitting on the loo. It tickles Nikhil to no end when I show my vulnerable side. He laughs his head off at me, nudging me at other ‘scary’ scenes. I can’t say Priya enjoys the amount of attention he pays to me.
And that’s how it starts. I guess that’s why eighteen year old kids are called adults. They start getting their emotions in a tangle, their loyalties keep shifting and they go through painful stages of infatuations.
Nik is a sweetheart and Priya is a good friend to me. I can’t see myself with Nik because of her. Off late, Nik’s been giving me mixed signals and I’m confused. They are small enough to be ignored but obvious enough to mean something.
Like his lingering gaze on my lips, his indulgent smile when I say something silly, the quick beating pulse at his neck when I’m near him. I wonder if anyone else has noticed. I hope not!
I have no idea if I can or want it to go any further. I don’t want to lose his friendship that means the world to me.
When Nik is not on a date with Priya, he’s hanging out with me at my home. Grandma is usually busy with her prayers and stuff while Saumya doesn’t leave the phone for a minute when she’s at home. This basically leaves us to enjoy our time together seated in the living room. We play music, read books or discuss the world in general.
One day, he takes to discussing relationships. “You know, I feel stress free when I speak with you.”
I chuckle. “Yeah? You want me to stress you? I can.”
He throws a pillow at me. “Nah. It’s like sometimes with Priya, I feel like I’m talking to a wall. When we’re alone like we’re not at a movie or something, we really don’t have much to talk about.”
I raise my eyebrow not sure if I want to hear any of his relationship woes. He continues oblivious. “She shuts me out you know. Like she doesn’t really care. It’s not like that with you. We never fight, we never argue, you never close me out.”
Allllrighhht! “I’m not your girlfriend,” I point out.
My answer seems to startle him as though he hasn’t given it a thought. “Yes but…”
“Don’t transfer your feelings to me, Nik. Priya doesn’t deserve this.” There, I’ve said it out loud. Much as I like Nik, I’m still unwilling to feel anything more for him. He’s always going to be my close friend and nothing more.
He seems to accept my words of caution. “I was just saying.” He lets his words linger.
Is this what I really want? Being great friends forever? I know he glances at me with a yearning look sometimes but I can’t change things between us.
I can’t when even after almost a year, I can still feel Ajaz’s kiss on my lips.
~ ~ ~
My friends make it a point to harass me for a party on my birthday. It’s on 31st October. Yes, on Halloween. I’ve already ‘fessed I have the devil in me.
While Halloween might be a rage in the Western world, for us Indians, it’s a regular October night sometimes clashing with Diwali, the festival of lights.
I bring in my birthday surrounded by my friends, uncles, aunts, cousins and of course Grandma and Saumya. We play silly games, eat the cake and the salty canapé that Saumya has made, some other random snacks and then wind up.
I open the gifts and cards that I have received after everyone’s left and Grandma and Saumya are asleep. Purse, lipstick, soft toy, t-shirt, belt and perfume. All things that warm a girl’s heart. I set aside Nik’s gift for last. Last year, he had snuck in a rubber snake that left me in hysterics. I can only imagine some silly prank this time around too. This time I’m wiser.
I set the other gifts in a neat pile. Nik’s gift looks innocent enough but I open it with caution. Inside a box is a white teddy bear. I lift it out to see it’s holding a heart that say, ‘Squeeze me, please.’
I turn it around in my hands to inspect it with care. There are no signs of hidden pipes or tubes that can make it squirt water or blow a fart bomb. It’s as innocent as it looks. I squeeze the heart and it starts singing.
‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey,
You'll never know dear, how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.’
There are tears in my eyes by the time the innocent, white teddy bear stops singing. Why did you have to go and make it all awkward, Nik?
The phone rings. I stare at it in surprise. It’s almost midnight. Who’d be calling this late? My parents had called in the morning so it can’t be them. It has to be Nik! I grab it before Grandma and Saumya wake up.
“Nik, this is not funny! Do you realise how late it is?” I whisper into the receiver using my gruff voice.
>
There is silence. I hesitate. “Nik?”
“Who’s Nik?”
Ajaz! My legs buckle under me sending me sliding against the wall. I sit there in shock with my knees drawn up. Ajaz! It’s Ajaz! Why’s he calling me after all these months? I draw in a shaky breath trying to cast away the effect his voice is having on my senses. “Ajaz. You’re calling so late. What’s the matter?”
“You didn’t answer me,” he drawls, sounding a bit off, “Who’s Nik? Why’re you expecting his call this late?”
I frown into the phone. How dare he act as if I’m answerable to him? “He’s a friend not that it’s any of your business.” I’m annoyed and close to tears. This is not how I imagined it would be hearing from Ajaz again. It had to be roses and smiles and all things nice!
True Rising: Mark of the Defenders Page 4