First Kiss -A Short Story
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First Kiss -A Short Story

Trisha was miserable. It seemed that the whole class had fixed up programs for the V-day; except her. It felt like an insult.  In looks, she was not inferior to her friends. So  if left out   in the ‘Romance Parade’, she had only herself to blame. It’s not that, Trisha did not fantasize about   the thrill and euphoria of being in Love, but she was too much in awe to infringe on the invisible boundary of the ideal middle class Bengali girls who happily accepted a man chosen by guardians in the driving seat of life.

 However, one week before the V-day, she was wretched. Time was slipping by. This was her last year at the university. Process had already begun to find an alliance for her. Though she had full faith that the man chosen by her guardians would have the best credential for a potential husband but there was also a chance of his not being the romantic type. At least in Didi’s case it had happened just like that.  The bully brother-in –law dictated her to all the time. Trisha badly wanted to enjoy the freedom of hanging out with a boy, at least once in her life, before an unknown man staked absolute claim on her love-life. This was her last opportunity to enjoy some carefree romance without any strings attached.   The activist in Trisha had decided to overrule the objections raised by her    inhibited traditional self. Subconsciously she had started looking for   a potential Valentine since the day, Megha and Swati    had declared their V-day plans.

The circumstances were somewhat similar for Anirban too. The demanding C.A Degree had drained much of his fluid youth and forced him to be a bookworm. After the nth trial, he could vanquish the Tax Paper and bag the title but by then, valuable time had slipped by. Ani was 29, standing at the borderline of bachelorhood. Scoring the CA Degree had hiked his stock and even his Boss, the father of a marriageable daughter, had started inviting him to dinners. Unfortunately not enough time was left for him to enjoy this valuable bachelorhood. Friends after window-shopping the society mannequins were getting settled with average looking middle class girls. For Ani  also,  family had recommended a girl but her  mere sight  purged Ani of all romanticism.

Ani was hard pressed to make a choice. Delay would have appreciated his dowry value in the bullish marriage market but Ani has detected an ominous change in his forehead. The hairline had receded by a fraction of inch, and a tiny spot in the center of scalp had lost the load of hair. Ani’s father had turned completely bald by the age of 50. A clear patch in the garden of hair could outweigh all the positive developments of a successful career. Even if the guardians were practical enough to see beyond the scalp, marriageable Indian females had always showed notorious antipathy for the hairless bachelors.

Trisha had seen Ani before but never in a situation, favorable for romance. Ani was an old acquaintance and on several occasions, had extended her the chivalry of a lift on her way to university. But Trisha was hesitant to grace the back- seat of a faded second-hand scooter on the overcrowded roads of Kolkata. But on 10th of Feb- just four days before the acid test of her romantic worth, Ani had appeared like a divine savior. Riding a brand new Maruti, he had stopped near the bus stand, where Trisha was waiting for her regular mini bus. An hour later, he had proudly deposited Trisha right before   Megha and Swati-- her   most intimate friends.  The notorious traffic jam of busy Kolkata-roads had done some constructive work that day.  While waiting at the signals, Trisha and Ani  could talk.  During that important hour   Ani had volunteered   to pose as her boyfriend on the coming V-day.    Trisha gratefully accepted the idea.

  It turned out to be a Sunday. Nature was kind. Sky was clear and the early morning air was free of diesel smoke. The winter had not yet bid an official adieu but spring had already set in. Trisha could successfully bluff her mother to extract almost an entire day to spend with her friends. Cupid had showered special blessings to  Swati and Megha.  They had understanding parents and enjoyed the benefits of a series of boy-friends, right from their school days. They happily agreed to go with Trisha. On the deserted road of early morning, the car was moving in full gusto –with no red-eyed traffic police to moderate its speed. At the back seat of Maruti —all four of them Swati, Megha and their boyfriends were enjoying the forced intimacy of the congested space. On the front, Trisha sat next to the driver, who looked much more dignified than the younger Romeos, he was carrying at the back. Glancing from the side Trisha assessed Ani. No, the bespectacled young man in striped shirt couldn’t be compared with  any muscular Hindi film Hero but he definitely had the flashes of yesteryear superhero Uttam Kumar; particularly in the hairstyle. But for the caste mismatch, Ani even had a fair   chance of clearing the paternal selection test.

 

The day at Gadiara—the flirting sanatorium designed to allure the lovesick young couples, was exciting. There were boating, eating, and disco as well as the solemn privacy -- the primary requirement for a heart- exchange therapy. The experience was unique for Trisha. Her first date with a real man! Strangely she didn’t feel the mad rush of adrenalin that friends expounded in such great detail. She was rather in awe with her decision.  The desire to display herself as a dignified woman before the man she had chosen   to date, had given her an extra   glow.

Ani was fun.  Had he not hummed while boating, Trisha would never know that he had such a good voice. Later, on her request, he had invoked the spirit of Tagore in a melodious baritone.   But for the day, she would never feel the fun of sharing a plate of Bhelpuri with a man   sitting under the shade of Pepsi-Cola umbrella. Ani had a funny obsession with his sport’s cap.  He could afford to misplace the car key but wouldn’t leave that  cap at any time. By lunchtime, Trisha started worrying about his carelessness. By afternoon a more serious thought burdened her mood. Was it possible that Ani had no   girlfriends?  A floating ship   had its   home at every port.  While the existence of such a person should not have bothered her make-believe romance, she certainly did not feel well with the possibility When Ani praised a female colleague, it   stabbed her heart like a knife and the sharp pain of jealousy made her quarrel with him. Trisha was not very clear about her own feelings but she wanted to know Ani’s feelings for her!

 Before retiring to the marriage pavilion, Ani had planned to enjoy some passionate- overs  with a series of wannabes but he was bowled maidens!  Trisha kept him frozen at the crease. Throughout the day, Ani juggled with his sport’s cap to keep the dangerous spot out of her eyesight. Beneath the veneer of a frisky girlishness, Trisha had exuded a    tranquil aroma that reminded him of one of his favorite women; his late mother. By evening, he felt an inner urge to protect that vulnerable young thing from all worldly evils –particularly from the vulgar attention of all indecent young bachelors.

Driving back Ani was unnaturally cool. His eyes were fixed on road. The veteran lovers of the backseat had been absolutely careless of time and caused them a neat two-hour delay. Trisha’s curfew had expired at 9 o’clock itself and she was to be deposited home before 11 at any cost. Further delay would have sealed the prospect of another outing. And more than anything,  Ani yearned for another opportunity to declare his feelings to her. Then there was the serious question of caste and community before the topic could be raised. Though Ani spoke better Bangla than most of the Bengalis, his forefathers had come from Orissa. Would Trisha be bold enough to overcome the family resistance to claim her True-Love? The thought   stuck Ani at the throat like irritating fishbone. But he did not dare to ask her opinion about an inter-community marriage.

Trisha’s neighborhood —a middle class suburb of Kolkata, was conservative. It didn’t approve of young women getting   dropped at the dead of night by   young men alone. Still Ani insisted on seeing her to the gate. Parking the car at a distance, they silently walked the semi-dark narrow lane together for the last time of the day.

 Trisha was about to go inside, leaving Ani only with a piece of sweet memory.

“ Trisha!” There was desperation in Ani’s voice.

“ Yes” Ani could not see her face in darkness but there was   a quiver in her whispering reply 

“ Shall I come inside and explain the situation to your parents?”

“Don’t worry. I will manage,”—Trisha’s voice still had that trembling effect.

“May be we could do it better together.”

“ Please don’t—let me face it alone”—persisted Trisha.

Suddenly the remote control of the Ani’s system went haywire.

 In surprising swiftness he caught hold of Trisha and kissed her passionately on the lips without any warning.

The watchdogs of society were nowhere nearby to censor that outrageous display of passion. Only the street dogs on patrol witnessed the historic first–kiss and their barking   hailed the auspicious union of two young hearts.

 

 

 

 

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