I believe that my life is full of waves and of course, there would always be a minus attached to a plus. Like anyone else, I have got waves of happiness, sadness, arousal, despair, existential crisis, etc. Yet, among these my most hated wave remains one- the covid wave. As we all know, with great waves come depressing isolation and as I write this, I can sense a lockdown-ish situation in my city.
These days are a lot like each other, not just day but I can literally relate minutes as well. I am just cooped up in my room while juggling between work, food and my favourite-sleep. Days are mostly glum, irritating and make me question my existence every hour. “Ye dukh kaahe khatm nahi hota” has to be my tagline these days. Last evening, in the wee of my sad hours I received a text that lit up my face (both literally and figuratively). It read “do you wanna catch up for a beer?” Yes yes, I understand the importance of staying indoors these days, but you should also understand the importance & delight of having a beer or 2 with someone after so long (2 months, to be precise).
I washed my newly treated hair, and smelling good is always a priority. As the air from my ancient dryer began hitting my untamed wet locks, I felt a spotlight around me. A spotlight that was looking to illuminate a mini-adventure, a spotlight that wanted to evoke a small episode of passion and unabashed lovemaking. My train of thoughts began running wild, running faster than the speed of my hot dryer. I am not sure for how long but I can confirm that I was completely zoned out for a while.
Pucho Na Pucha Mujhe Kya
Milega Teri Bahon Mein Aakar
Played my YT music suggestion. Is it for real tho? Did my vanilla day await to bring me a sprinkle of someone’s baahe? That too none other than Jordan I mean, ever since the Kasar tragedy, passion and affection had alluded me so maybe he would have ended this cast off my dry spell. Just, maybe?
Jordan is a basic gym dude on whom I’d set my eyes on the 2nd of November. One would say that it’s around 2 months only but I refuse to believe that logic. I feel me and the dude go wayyyy back, prolly to the extent of past life. I randomly used to get (still do) these visions of him with kohled eyes but I never bothered much in the beginning. Eventually, I began finding him cute and wanted to drop by and say ‘hi’. After planning and plotting for good 10 days and failing twice, I tasted success (3rd time lucky, I guess) when he was groaning (almost) in pain. I mean, I don’t call myself an opportunist for no reason hehe.
To give you a better picture of my newly developed half-love interest (half love interest: a totally self-made word which implies that you’re crushing on someone but not just enough), Jordan is a well-built tall man with funny hair. He doesn’t consider himself muscular but I think he’s just perfect the way he is, the way he works out, the way he smiles, the way he re-racks his weight and everything else. Undoubtedly, my killer instincts grow whenever he tries to play ‘too cool to care’ but then again, you gotta accept a rose with both its fragrance and thorns.
Now, what does this rose mean to me? I am not sure, juice buddy, drive buddy, punching bag for my shameless flirts? Maybe all? Or maybe none of these, he’s too fond of mysteries after all.
Coming back to the ‘day’, being fully aware of his favourite colour, I decided to put on a black attire with my favourite hoodie which quotes
“On the outside I skkkrt skkkrt
On the inside, I hurt hurt”
I have been living with the above mood for so long that I can’t even pinpoint it. Anyway, after convincing my parents to let me go outside for an hour (who am I kidding, I took 2.5 hours hehe) I finally found my way to an apparent ‘sinwheel’ (ofc, his car). For the first two minutes, I was too embarrassed only to make eye contact with him thanks to all the ‘beautiful’ thoughts and expectations that were swimming in my cerebrospinal fluid (it’s science bitches).
His trunk was well stocked with nice beers and mine? We will find out for sure.
After driving around for a while and having totally meaningless banter, I noticed his face. Not for his so-called tan but the way it glowed in traffic lights, the way it twitched when I ruined his beer can, and the way he pulled up his face mask (prolly to mumble some more cusses for me). Would he accept an apology kiss- I wondered, would he even accept any kisses from me- I thought to myself. Sure, I did have a cheek kiss to redeem but the heart wants more and the heart wants what it wants.
After tiring himself from his little drive, he finally put a halt to the ‘sinwheel’ and parked at a dark yet safe place (is he a regular there? maybe). By this time, I was probably a beer or more down and was choking on a stupid foxnut. He poured me some to flush it all down, but I could feel my senses flushed with something else. A desire, a desire to hold his mildly warm hand, a desire to cup his face between my cold hands, a desire to give him the most gentle kiss, a desire to hold him like I hold my plushie to sleep every day, and some other unspeakable things. Booze and emotions are the worst combinations they say and I can’t even argue with that. What followed is a series of admiration, desperation and a few sweet nothings.
Knowing how emotionally distant he is, I was afraid to make even the tiniest of moves but recently he’d called me a ‘non quitter’ and I gotta respect my man’s words. I dug some inspiration from his unrelated faith and held his hand without any qualms. But of course, Jordan does not leave any opportunity to act ‘cool’ and he began comparing our hand sizes, where mine turned out to be like half of his. “It’s okay”, I said out loud. “Doesn’t matter, they look perfect holding on to each other”, I mumbled inaudibly.
In the middle of all the buzz and my likeness for this man who had/has//will have zero interest in me, I pounced upon him to taste some of his fluids for a different kinda buzz, an ecstasy I very much looked forward to. However, my ‘brave’ effort did go down the drain when he shushed me and decided to embrace me in his well-toned arms. Not a bad alternative, I must say. With all the speakable holdings and cuddling, time seemed like an unfamiliar concept to me. I couldn’t think of anything but want more of him, in every way possible. After my couple of failed attempts, he finally gave up (I guess) and granted me access to his luscious lips. I do have a history of messing things up in over excitement and yesterday was no different. I began grazing on his desirable lips like a starving goat (did I just make the most stupid comparison ever?) who could never be satiated. My wilderness was put to a halt and I was given very specific instructions on how to kiss. I blushed a little on my stupidity but could soon figure out what he wanted to I leaned forward to give it to him. It was warm and pleasing, it was slow and nice. I wanted to jump to his lap but I was scared of my clumsiness.
I would often take little pauses and try to guess what must be like in his head right now, but as always I lost my way into the mystery. I must admit, that his touch didn’t give me fireworks but something calm and composed- maybe something like a wave of the ocean which comes with force and leaves quietly. His fingers on my flowing locks felt heavenly, I wonder what other capabilities they might have. Until next time, I guess.