Believe in Yourself

Believe in Yourself
Just a penchant for writing,its my pigheadedness to distinguish myself from the Crowd.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

A or Z, Does it Matter. Part 1



Lets put it this way, I have never ever felt about anyone else the way I felt about her. The way she curled her lips, the way she bit those lips, thee way those breasts bounced and pranced about in her shirt when she played basketball, the tomboyish attitude she threw at the boys and girls alike and the way she looked at me. She despised me, hated me, always thought of me in a bad light and never understood me. And I never quite understood women the way I understood her. She was the coldest, meanest, calculating bitch when she got mad. But that didn't deter me from loving her over and over again. She wasn't exactly beautiful in the typical way but she was in an exotic way. Like wild waves smashing at the black rocks at the coast, like the sweat in the tropical heat, like the pinacolada you sip on a hot summer, she was god’s imperfectly perfect creation. She wasn't meant for the regular kind, she didn't know the whimsical tunes of monotonous life. She was a free bird, not to be held in the clutches of any normal bean. I didn't exactly remember when I fell for her but I fell pretty hard for her, she was that special, like the raw musk of the musk deer and like the morning dew on the leaf blade. We always fought whenever we found each other, she found our fights irritating and I found those interesting because every time we fought, I would discover another new trait of hers.




I remember in the school library, where we first kissed and professed our love to each other, albeit due to me. She always tried to avoid me in intellectual stuff and she always thought of her as the most intelligent person in the room around her and showed off her knowledge every now and then. We were teenagers and on the verge of discovering adolescence. She was in her uniform, the white shirt and grey skirt; she always looked like a devil shrouded by angel’s wings in that white shirt. She didn’t have the usual girly charades which was the best thing I liked about her. She sat as far as possible from me but I always disappointed her in these matters. As much as to her displeasure, she never could avoid me that much for I always found a way to her. May be it was the strange connection we shared or maybe it was the best way we enjoyed our love hate relationship. My love for her and her hate towards me. I wasn’t exactly the school heartthrob I thought of me. I was reed thin, had bad hair style, a funny posture and walked like Western gunslingers of the Wild West. But I was popular, I was eye sore of the teachers and the students alike. I had the good looks of my parents and money to spend. That wasn’t so bad considering the environment of the boarding school. She sat with her legs crossed, eyes fixed on the pages, her eyelashes flickering once a while, her gaze intent onto devour knowledge as soon as possible, while I stared endlessly from behind a book shelf. I reckon once or twice her eyes moved to check if someone was watching but she was unaware of my position. She again looked around, trying to find a pair of hidden eyes that she thought was piercing upon her; I was not that far from her, I was standing behind a book shelf away from the reading tables. Then I overheard her friend asking her about me.


Her friend mentioned how a creep I was, always acting macho and stud but behaving like a psycho whenever I saw her. How I intentionally picked upon her friends to try to talk or fight with her. She told her that she even once saw me at the girl’s hostel, staring at her through her window at 2 am in the night. That she knows whom I have kissed and still how was trying to woo her. She said that she knew that and she hates me. Her friend again mentioned that she had seen me following them on their way from class to the library. That hit a stroke, she suddenly looked like she was in discomfort, she hit back at her friend, telling her to shut up and mind her own business. Then again, she took to reading but she was disturbed. I was lost in my world, she hates me, why does she act so proud, wasn’t I worthy of her, she doesn’t even know how much I love her. How much she means to me, I again looked at her, with every look she kept getting more beautiful to my eyes, the occasional fidgeting with her hair, her eyes, the way she read, the way she sat and maintained her posture. We were barely fifteen years old but she acted like a more mature person. Her eyes when she discovered a new fact, gleamed like a newborn baby’s when he discovers a new thing, my feet were killing me but I didn’t care, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and in the process hit the book shelf and a book dropped, she looked up suddenly in my direction when she heard the thud of the falling book. I hid for a while and then again started looking at her again, she kept glancing at my direction, unsure of my presence, for a while I looked down to tie my shoelace that had come undone, as I was tying my shoe lace I heard a footstep coming towards me. As I looked up, it was her, she looked angry, very angry, for a moment I didn’t know what to do, she looked every bit of my dream that I had of her from last weekend. In her uniform, eyes sparkling of confidence, her pencil thin lips red with passion, her white shirt with the outline of her breasts, her skirt, the way it fit her. Her knees, her beautiful legs, bruise here and there, perks of being a sportsperson. I knew she was the woman I wanted, I wanted her so desperately. I sat transfixed there watching her, she cleared her throat and spoke, ’what’s wrong with you, why do you always trouble me, don’t you know that I don’t like you?’ she had the voice of an angel, not the typical girly chiming voice but she had a husky voice, the kind of voice that stirs up tornadoes in  man’s heart.


I felt that she wasn’t angry, maybe she was disturbed or terrified to discover this new side of me, she had never found me such intimidating before. I stood up, mustered up my courage and tried to calm her,’ why don’t you like me, what do I lack? ’ I shot back at her. ‘You, you are, you are not my type’, she managed to spurt back. Oh even now, I was aching to find her so close to me, the library was seemingly empty, only the librarian sat at his table, her friend also wasn’t anywhere in sight, it was just the two of us and the librarian. ‘I would never find such a chance to speak my heart out’, I thought to myself but before I could speak to calm her, her stormy eyes became red, she started to cry, I was shocked and confused, ‘people are saying a lot of things about me, I am not interested in this kind of thing, I don’t like people talking about me like that, I am a good girl.’ Obviously gossipmongers of our school had spread word of my affection for her, but they have spread their version of the story, they didn’t know mine. They didn’t know the love I had for this girl, this girl was everything for me. The heat was burning up inside me, I was simmering with anger now, ‘what is wrong with you, if people talk shitty things about you or about me, does it matter if we don’t give a damn’, I almost screamed, I stole a quick glance again to see if the librarian had heard us, but he wasn’t there, damn, it was lunch hour and he must have gone out, locking us inside, her bitch friend also had gone. It was the both of us standing barely thirty centimeters away from each other in that room. She started sobbing, I had never seen her cry before, she appeared such a force but now all of a sudden, she looked so frail, so weak that I wanted to hold her in my hands and caress and calm her not to cry. I tried to wipe her tears away but she threw my hand away in disgust, I didn’t budge, my angst of not able to stop her tears swelled up inside me and I caught hold of her hand and pulled her towards me in a jolt.





She crashed in my chest and before she could scream to call for help, I put my hand on her mouth to shut her up. Now in that hall, there were we, my hand on her mouth and holding her two hands behind her with the other hand. I could feel her heartbeat on my chest, her eyes, so beautiful, like a storm in the wild sea, stared at my face, she was trying to understand why I did what I did. I was totally frozen in time, senses working but touched by her, I could feel her breath on my lips, her lips, quivering and trembling, a drop of sweat trickled down from my brow in tension. She tried to open her mouth, I kept my hand fixed but she looked at me with anger, as if she wanted to say something, unsure, tensed but I gave in to trust and let it go. She didn’t move, we were still standing together, our bodies embracing the flow of hormones in such close vicinity of the other sex. She looked at my eyes, then slowly tried to free her hands, I let them loose, she raised her hand, I was almost certain that I was getting a slap followed by a loud scream, a meeting between parents and teachers at the principal’s office, rusticated may be, as my train of thoughts ran wild, she did the unthinkable, she put her left hand on my waist, like those ballroom dancers put theirs on their partners. She caressed my face with the other hand; her soft hands caressed my temple and my cheeks. I was awestruck and dumbfounded at the same time. A thousand lightning bolts and thunders swarmed my sky with her touch and then suddenly she took her hand and put back a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Suddenly I was standing at the edge of the world with her with me, the reality slipped away, I was hers and she was mine, we were together. I moved closer, sealing the little distance between us, I grabbed her hand and caressed it, she smiled again, I touched her waist, rubbing it to her back, then she asked, ‘ are we doing what I never wanted to do with you?’, ‘not with me?’ I snapped back, ‘is it love?’, she asked,’ what else could it be’ I spoke. ‘You have kissed other girls before, haven’t you?’, ‘yeah, I have but not like this’, and I kissed her.

Her entire body tensed and she clutched my shirt tightly with one hand and pulled on my hair with the other. We kissed like it was the end of this world, I had kissed others before but this kiss, as I told her was unlike any other kiss I ever had or will have. It was our first kiss, my cheeks suddenly felt wet, she was crying again. ‘why are you crying?’, I asked her, ‘you can’t understand how much this means to me’ she managed to say between kisses. We were concealed between two book stands and a corner; I pulled her to the corner and started to unbutton her shirt. ‘Isn’t this an inappropriate place for this?’ she asked but I didn’t listen, I was dying to see her twin peaks, I had spent 4 years watching them grow. Countless dry summers and cold winter night’s I would lie down and think of her and her body. She knew I wouldn’t listen in the heat of the moment and she relented to let me marvel in her womanhood. As I unbuttoned her shirt, she drew a pace back and let me have a look at her. Disheveled hair, lusty lips, shirt half tucked half out and the white bra revealing the most beautiful sight the mortal eye could perceive, her cleavage looked like the sunset, half visible and half left to imagination. Like the glorious red sun, her skin a tone red from the making out, I madly stared at her as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the ground with the shirt.
I rushed to her, turned her around and grabbed her. She moaned and smiled as she felt my hot breath on the nape of her neck. Then she turned around and faced me. I was like a mad wolf, for I went on aggressively on her, licking and biting in between kissing and caressing her ample beauty. ‘Be gentle,it’s my first time’, she moaned, I slowed down from aggression to passion, she liked the slow serenade of our making out. Then as I tried to slip my hand down her skirt, she said ’ let’s not go all Hollywood the first time, we professed our love to each other’. I managed a mischievous smile; I watched her put her bra and shirt back on like a kid watching candy. She adjusted her hair and earrings and asked if she looked alright, I just smiled at her, she blushed, this tomboy, she blushed so deep that I went weak at my knees. I pulled her to a tight embrace and whispered in her ears that I love her, that she was the sole purpose of my living in whole of the eternity. She said she knew, and the whole charade of hating me was also because of her tomboyish attitude trying to give in to attraction for me. She took my face in her hands and kissed me hard, ‘do you love me?’ she asked, ‘I don’t know whether I love you or not but this feeling, being with you, thinking about you, is unlike any other experience I have ever had, may be that is love’, I spoke. She took my hand and took me to the nearby reading table and sat me down with her, we talked about our feelings, our revelations about one another and our confessions. She asked if I had been to her hostel and looked at her while she was sleeping, did I really stalk her at her basketball games or have I really kissed other girls. I answered each question of hers and she did mine. And time slipped away with that first kiss with the first love of my life.

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