DID THE MOST PRECIOUS MOMENTS OF MY LIFE
At about 10:30, after 400 ml of vodka and thinking of 400 ways to kill Sneha, I left Thaloor’s. I wasn’t completely in my senses as I left the place but I wasn’t completely drunk either. As I rode my 200cc Pulsar back to the hostel, I added a few more adjectives for Sneha. Seriously, in times like these, there are very few fun games. You may think I am a bit of a sadist, but I am pretty sure you can identify with my situation. Side effects of a bad break up.
It was during this time, while I was busy plotting a few more ways to kill Sneha and driving through the streets of Manipal back to my hostel that I noticed a girl was walking alone on the sides, looking completely drunk and about to drop down any moment. She was mumbling something as well as she walked in the drunken trance and as soon as I went past her, she fell down. Well, there was no other option for me but to stop my bike and look after this drunken girl. Drunken girls are usually one of my favorite sights but not walking alone on the sides of the streets. That generally means trouble. And I didn’t have enough experience in these situations.
MY WORLD STOPPED ONCE
I halted my bike a few steps in front of her and then rushed to her. Bending on my knees, I picked her in my arms and turned her face. It was Anjali. I guess I could have chosen a better moment to say hi. There was no doubt that wasn’t only she drunk, but she was also completely wasted. But even in that drunk state, as I brushed her hair off her face, there was an amazing serenity in her eyes. It were the eyes of a girl who was completely simple at heart but somehow the world had robber her off that simplicity. And that simplicity was now only reflected in her eyes so that any man could be haunted by just the very thought of looking into those eyes. Her face, even when sullen, looked radiant. There was no doubt that she looked much more beautiful without make up than she did with it. Any make up on that face would rob it of its beauty, would rob its owner of its pride. Her cheeks, soft to touch and so smooth that I could have kept rubbing my hands on them forever. Her lips, the color of a light shade of pink, looked so perfectly carved with the rest of her features, that if I ever kissed them, I don’t think I would ever be able to leave them.
For a few seconds all I could do was stare at her. I am not sure, but I think it was partially to the vodka. And I am pretty sure it was the vodka that gave me idea that the best way to wake her up would be to kiss her. So after a few seconds of reluctantly trying to wake her up by slapping her slowly, I gave her one final look and then pecked her on her lips. The reaction was immediate. Her lips caught mine in am impulse and before I knew it she was kissing me back. And as our lips made movements only our minds could think of, a chill tingled through my spine. Somewhere at the back of my head a voice told me to stop, that this was totally out of place and completely indecent. But then my lips didn’t want to move. They were unwilling to part from hers and her lips seem to be enjoying this as much as I was.
I felt completely guilty.
Suddenly her lips left mine and I felt a hand pushed me to the ground. Not liking this rude interruption I looked up to see that she was already standing, her eyes in a fiery blaze. “What….what were you doing?”
“Kissing you, I think” I replied trying to clear my head.
She folded her hands in contempt and continued to breathe fire. “Oh! And how dare you kiss me? How can you just kiss a girl? Just because she’s alone, does it mean that she has an available sign plastered over her head?”
“Hey miss,” I interrupted her, unwilling to take any more of her accusations, “if memory serves me right, you were kissing me back as well. So you weren’t exactly an unwilling accomplice in this.”
“I was drunk. Do drunk girls mean they are your property for the night?”
“Again, I was drunk too. I don’t exactly go kissing any girl I find lying on the street. I was on my way to college when I saw you walking, completely wasted. Thought you might need help so stopped my bike. By then you had lost your balance. I tried to revive you but you didn’t get up and then the vodka kicked in and one thing led to another. I am sorry.”
The last sentence seemed to have softened her a bit as she loosened her hands and her muscles relaxed a little bit.
“So you stopped here to help me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied as good naturedly as possible.
“And how was it that you were planning to help?”
Either this was some sort of test or she was actually looking for help. Whatever it was, I tried to remain as honest as possible.
“By giving you a lift on the bike and then dropping you to the hostel,” I replied trying to sound as sincere as I could.
She seemed to be believe me, albeit slightly. But I could see she wasn’t done asking questions yet. Another one came soon.
“And the kiss was unintentional?”
“Totally,” I replied.
“And you weren’t planning to do anything…..?”
Ok, that was it. What was she thinking? That I was some jerk who picked up drunk women? I had a little bit of self respect left and she was playing with that. Wasn’t she a girl? And hadn’t I just been slapped and humiliated in front of the entire college by a girl? All girls are the same. Always suspicious. Never ready to believe you how much ever you try to be honest with them. There has to be some ulterior motive to our actions.
“Listen miss,” I said, seething, “I wasn’t planning to pick you up and take you to some motel and sleep with you, if that’s what you mean. I was just trying to help even though I myself am half drunk. If you want to you can believe me or you can file a police complaint against me. That’s your option.”
Ok. A bit of an advice here. When a girl is just about to go soft on you, don’t ever make an outburst. Especially if you have just kissed her out of nowhere. Not a very good idea.
And so her expression changed once again. From a soft, quizzical look it changed to that of complete loathing. And well, then it all began.
“So let me get this straight. You find me wasted on the street, decide to help me and instead end up kissing me. Now, how could that happen? Did you think that the best way to get me back to consciousness was to give me mouth to mouth and then tongue to tongue?” I didn’t dare mention that that was what exactly I had thought of. “Or was it because you found my lips totally intoxicating and you just couldn’t resist on finding out how well my lips are as compared to the rest of the unconscious me?” Again very very true. I still found them intoxicating.
“I don’t know who you are,” she continued in that sarcastic tone, “but if I did go to the police with this sweet little kissing story of yours, I am not exactly sure that they would believe that I was so unconscious that I needed mouth to mouth. But you could end up facing charges of drunk driving and much more importantly, harassment.”
There was a tone of finality to that last statement of hers. As if she was announcing a verdict in court. Well, whatever it was, I had for the second time on the same day been completely embarrassed by a girl. But this time it felt different. When I was slapped by Sneha, I felt I was wronged, that injustice was done against me and I craved for revenge. Still do.
But now I felt completely guilty. I felt that I had really taken advantage of this girl, that I had committed a crime.
At that moment I felt totally ashamed of myself and wished there was a way I could assure this girl that I was sorry for what I had done, that I didn’t deserve to be forgiven yet I hoped she would.
But before I could think of anything to say, she walked away. Not finding a way to make her stay, I let her walk away without defending myself and thus letting her believe that I indeed was a complete jerk. Which at that moment was exactly how I felt.
*****************
At about 10:30, after 400 ml of vodka and thinking of 400 ways to kill Sneha, I left Thaloor’s. I wasn’t completely in my senses as I left the place but I wasn’t completely drunk either. As I rode my 200cc Pulsar back to the hostel, I added a few more adjectives for Sneha. Seriously, in times like these, there are very few fun games. You may think I am a bit of a sadist, but I am pretty sure you can identify with my situation. Side effects of a bad break up.
It was during this time, while I was busy plotting a few more ways to kill Sneha and driving through the streets of Manipal back to my hostel that I noticed a girl was walking alone on the sides, looking completely drunk and about to drop down any moment. She was mumbling something as well as she walked in the drunken trance and as soon as I went past her, she fell down. Well, there was no other option for me but to stop my bike and look after this drunken girl. Drunken girls are usually one of my favorite sights but not walking alone on the sides of the streets. That generally means trouble. And I didn’t have enough experience in these situations.
MY WORLD STOPPED ONCE
I halted my bike a few steps in front of her and then rushed to her. Bending on my knees, I picked her in my arms and turned her face. It was Anjali. I guess I could have chosen a better moment to say hi. There was no doubt that wasn’t only she drunk, but she was also completely wasted. But even in that drunk state, as I brushed her hair off her face, there was an amazing serenity in her eyes. It were the eyes of a girl who was completely simple at heart but somehow the world had robber her off that simplicity. And that simplicity was now only reflected in her eyes so that any man could be haunted by just the very thought of looking into those eyes. Her face, even when sullen, looked radiant. There was no doubt that she looked much more beautiful without make up than she did with it. Any make up on that face would rob it of its beauty, would rob its owner of its pride. Her cheeks, soft to touch and so smooth that I could have kept rubbing my hands on them forever. Her lips, the color of a light shade of pink, looked so perfectly carved with the rest of her features, that if I ever kissed them, I don’t think I would ever be able to leave them.
For a few seconds all I could do was stare at her. I am not sure, but I think it was partially to the vodka. And I am pretty sure it was the vodka that gave me idea that the best way to wake her up would be to kiss her. So after a few seconds of reluctantly trying to wake her up by slapping her slowly, I gave her one final look and then pecked her on her lips. The reaction was immediate. Her lips caught mine in am impulse and before I knew it she was kissing me back. And as our lips made movements only our minds could think of, a chill tingled through my spine. Somewhere at the back of my head a voice told me to stop, that this was totally out of place and completely indecent. But then my lips didn’t want to move. They were unwilling to part from hers and her lips seem to be enjoying this as much as I was.
Suddenly her lips left mine and I felt a hand pushed me to the ground. Not liking this rude interruption I looked up to see that she was already standing, her eyes in a fiery blaze. “What….what were you doing?”
“Kissing you, I think” I replied trying to clear my head.
She folded her hands in contempt and continued to breathe fire. “Oh! And how dare you kiss me? How can you just kiss a girl? Just because she’s alone, does it mean that she has an available sign plastered over her head?”
“Hey miss,” I interrupted her, unwilling to take any more of her accusations, “if memory serves me right, you were kissing me back as well. So you weren’t exactly an unwilling accomplice in this.”
“I was drunk. Do drunk girls mean they are your property for the night?”
“Again, I was drunk too. I don’t exactly go kissing any girl I find lying on the street. I was on my way to college when I saw you walking, completely wasted. Thought you might need help so stopped my bike. By then you had lost your balance. I tried to revive you but you didn’t get up and then the vodka kicked in and one thing led to another. I am sorry.”
The last sentence seemed to have softened her a bit as she loosened her hands and her muscles relaxed a little bit.
“So you stopped here to help me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied as good naturedly as possible.
“And how was it that you were planning to help?”
Either this was some sort of test or she was actually looking for help. Whatever it was, I tried to remain as honest as possible.
“By giving you a lift on the bike and then dropping you to the hostel,” I replied trying to sound as sincere as I could.
She seemed to be believe me, albeit slightly. But I could see she wasn’t done asking questions yet. Another one came soon.
“And the kiss was unintentional?”
“Totally,” I replied.
“And you weren’t planning to do anything…..?”
Ok, that was it. What was she thinking? That I was some jerk who picked up drunk women? I had a little bit of self respect left and she was playing with that. Wasn’t she a girl? And hadn’t I just been slapped and humiliated in front of the entire college by a girl? All girls are the same. Always suspicious. Never ready to believe you how much ever you try to be honest with them. There has to be some ulterior motive to our actions.
“Listen miss,” I said, seething, “I wasn’t planning to pick you up and take you to some motel and sleep with you, if that’s what you mean. I was just trying to help even though I myself am half drunk. If you want to you can believe me or you can file a police complaint against me. That’s your option.”
Ok. A bit of an advice here. When a girl is just about to go soft on you, don’t ever make an outburst. Especially if you have just kissed her out of nowhere. Not a very good idea.
And so her expression changed once again. From a soft, quizzical look it changed to that of complete loathing. And well, then it all began.
“So let me get this straight. You find me wasted on the street, decide to help me and instead end up kissing me. Now, how could that happen? Did you think that the best way to get me back to consciousness was to give me mouth to mouth and then tongue to tongue?” I didn’t dare mention that that was what exactly I had thought of. “Or was it because you found my lips totally intoxicating and you just couldn’t resist on finding out how well my lips are as compared to the rest of the unconscious me?” Again very very true. I still found them intoxicating.
“I don’t know who you are,” she continued in that sarcastic tone, “but if I did go to the police with this sweet little kissing story of yours, I am not exactly sure that they would believe that I was so unconscious that I needed mouth to mouth. But you could end up facing charges of drunk driving and much more importantly, harassment.”
There was a tone of finality to that last statement of hers. As if she was announcing a verdict in court. Well, whatever it was, I had for the second time on the same day been completely embarrassed by a girl. But this time it felt different. When I was slapped by Sneha, I felt I was wronged, that injustice was done against me and I craved for revenge. Still do.
But now I felt completely guilty. I felt that I had really taken advantage of this girl, that I had committed a crime.
At that moment I felt totally ashamed of myself and wished there was a way I could assure this girl that I was sorry for what I had done, that I didn’t deserve to be forgiven yet I hoped she would.
But before I could think of anything to say, she walked away. Not finding a way to make her stay, I let her walk away without defending myself and thus letting her believe that I indeed was a complete jerk. Which at that moment was exactly how I felt.
*****************
How was I to know that that one meeting would decide the course of the rest of my life? How was I to know that that one meeting would haunt me forever? How was I to know that I would dream of that incident again and again not able to forget that face, the face that when smiled it could have lighted up the whole world. My world.
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1 comment:
Now dis ws a blissful <3 ... He felt guilty.. Obvyo.. Hona hi chahiye... Nd u describe it soooo weell dat its all is hppnd in frnt of me reallyy.. D best writing evr.. Awesome...
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