Tuesday, November 15, 2005

First time

Like a thief too noble, the night lay waiting, afraid to intrude between them. The air-conditioning in the room hummed in a low murmur, almost self-effacing. The lights from the street peeked in through the blinds now and then, their curiosity abounding, but polite enough to refrain from trespassing.
They sat on the couch, the moment heavy with anticipation, their bodies numb with the common knowledge of their love.
He felt the staid air quiver with the imperceptible thumpings of her tiny heart. He felt her unhurried pulse speak the poetry of her soul into the small of his palm, its meter perfect, its rhyme effortless. And he felt it match with his.
They were breathing in an even, easy rhythm, she exhaling when he drew in his breath, and he likewise, as though each was afraid to rob the other of breath. The night was a creature now, alive around them, moving around in circles, feeding off their breath, pushing them closer.
He felt her draw closer, her head seeking refuge in his arms, and he let her be, his left arm around her. A wandering draught, cold and cunning, crept in through the slit under the door, and sought them out. He felt her shudder, her delicate body trembling under her clothes. Feeling protective, he hugged her tighter. And as he did so, felt the pressure of her ring against his chest. The ring he had given her. Today. This evening. When he had asked her. When, for one moment, he felt the world had stood still, bereft of its usual purpose, uncertain of what would follow. When, for the longest of seconds, he felt a million eyes upon him, upon them, a million breaths together held bated, a million hopelesly romantic wills, along with his, bidding her to say 'yes'.
And then she had nodded. Ever so imperceptibly. No, the answer had reached her eloquent eyes first, before flushing her high cheeks with the red of 'yes', before it became a smile that surprised her happy face, before she nodded. Before she mouthed the word, 'Yes'. And the world breathed again, along with him, content that love was alive, and went about its business.
He caught himself smiling. That moment seemed distant now. Yet so near.
She looked up at him, sensing him smile. A question started in her uncertain eyes, before his reassuring eyes answered, and then no words were needed. She smiled in return. And then they laughed. Not that boisterous laughter, but the quiet one that is a secret known only to those in love.
He held her by her chin. Their eyes locked in a moment of perfect ocular acrobacy. Not searching, but seeing the rest of their life in the other's eyes.
And then he kissed her.
For the first time.
The night erupted in joy, and stole into the spaces between them, cloaking them in its magic, feeding them with the life it had taken to sustain itself for this very moment. A light wind blew the blinds apart, and the lights crowded into the room from the street, silent witnesses to the story that nobody can tire of.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

The most beautiful love story ever written.....
Loved the words---- They were breathing in an even, easy rhythm, she exhaling when he drew in his breath, and he likewise, as though each was afraid to rob the other of breath.-----

I wonder when will I be able to write about love. Unless I fall in love, I guess. And that is a tall order......

Anonymous said...

Beautiful ans sensuous. Love the build up to the kiss.

musafir said...

@ manish chauhan: Well, come on now, I beg to disagree with the first line of your comment.

Thanks for appreciating the post. And as for what you say on writing about love, a little experience always helps, I guess.

@ .:a:. : Thanks!