My First Night
It has been 3 weeks since she came in but due to various constraints, like sometimes it not being an auspicious day and during other times, my busy schedule (I work during nights); we were not able to meet up.
All these days, I was hardly able to give her any attention for which I was feeling very bad. I use to steal some looks at her and she in turn used to stare at me. But, that is all we could do when people were around. Being the shy kind (as she was born and brought up in a village), she did not initiate any moves and I being the bold kind, used to steal a few kisses when no one was around (she never objected which made me feel that even she liked it).
I can’t find enough adjectives to describe her beauty. To describe her in a sentence, she is an Angel. Fair in color, her contours can put any actress to shame. There is no one who could miss it and she is currently the talk of our colony. It does make me angry when the nosy neighbor ogles at her thru the window of his balcony (and then when I am there, tries to look into the newspaper, whereas I know the real reason behind him sitting there). It also makes me happy that she is the cynosure of all eyes (I would like to quickly add that I am not some kind of pervert).
Finally the D-day arrived. For all these 3 weeks, I was nervous. Constantly consulting my married as well as bachelor friends on what I should be doing and how it would be. Some of them did have the experience and some of them did not. But, no matter what, each of them did have their advice to give me.
My bedroom was going to be where we decided to have it since it was also good as per Vastu*.
It being a Saturday, I was supposed to attend a friend's Bachelor party (what an irony, delaying my first night for a bachelor’s party). By the time I came back, it was 01:00 AM on Sunday. I tried to get into the house with my key, but the door was latched from inside. I had to knock the door and as expected, my mom came and opened it. My mom gave me a cold stare (she was obviously not happy with me returning so late). I quickly slipped into my bedroom.
All my 3 weeks of preparations were showing colors now. The room was scented with perfume (or was it her aura) and there was a dim light (I had arranged for this by fixing for a bulb in an old socket which was not used for long so that it gives a “Dim-Lit” romantic view). There was this double bed without any flowers (I do not like that flowery kind and had insisted that there wouldn’t be any flowers). I was afraid that there may be some noise (for obvious reasons), so, had on the previous day, secured the windows shut and instructed people in my house not to open it. I did not like the concept of the traditional “Doodh* Ka Glass” somehow (probably, it is because of having seen it in so many movies, the romanticism of it has gone away) and thankfully, even the people in my house did not insist on it.
She was sitting there as silently as ever, which is also one of the reasons why I loved her so much. Her contours were clearly on display even in the dim light and I could not stop admiring her. She was as always shy but I was sure she was enjoying my admiration since she did not even flinch from her position.
I knew I had to make the fist move. I was also told by my innumerable “so called” experienced friends that it is always the men who had to make the first move. After all, I had to use their advice somewhere and this was the best opportunity to put their intellect to test. I had in the meantime rushed to the washroom to clean myself up (probably, much to her amusement) and came back fresh. This was to satisfy one school of thought that we had to converse openly on the first night and should not sleep. Counseling taught me that passion--an urgent product of desire--doesn't always develop on its own; it is often the hard-won fruit of intimate communication. This is a night I would remember for the rest of my life and wanted to make it special. It will NOT be all over in the morning is something I had to remember and for sure kept reminding myself. I wanted to switch on the music to start off, but was actually not sure if she would like it or what kind of music she liked. I was the kind of guy who would listen to Hindustani classical and doze off (which is also something I wanted to do since I was very tired). So, for the time being, music was not on the itinerary.
All these days, I was hardly able to give her any attention for which I was feeling very bad. I use to steal some looks at her and she in turn used to stare at me. But, that is all we could do when people were around. Being the shy kind (as she was born and brought up in a village), she did not initiate any moves and I being the bold kind, used to steal a few kisses when no one was around (she never objected which made me feel that even she liked it).
I can’t find enough adjectives to describe her beauty. To describe her in a sentence, she is an Angel. Fair in color, her contours can put any actress to shame. There is no one who could miss it and she is currently the talk of our colony. It does make me angry when the nosy neighbor ogles at her thru the window of his balcony (and then when I am there, tries to look into the newspaper, whereas I know the real reason behind him sitting there). It also makes me happy that she is the cynosure of all eyes (I would like to quickly add that I am not some kind of pervert).
Finally the D-day arrived. For all these 3 weeks, I was nervous. Constantly consulting my married as well as bachelor friends on what I should be doing and how it would be. Some of them did have the experience and some of them did not. But, no matter what, each of them did have their advice to give me.
My bedroom was going to be where we decided to have it since it was also good as per Vastu*.
It being a Saturday, I was supposed to attend a friend's Bachelor party (what an irony, delaying my first night for a bachelor’s party). By the time I came back, it was 01:00 AM on Sunday. I tried to get into the house with my key, but the door was latched from inside. I had to knock the door and as expected, my mom came and opened it. My mom gave me a cold stare (she was obviously not happy with me returning so late). I quickly slipped into my bedroom.
All my 3 weeks of preparations were showing colors now. The room was scented with perfume (or was it her aura) and there was a dim light (I had arranged for this by fixing for a bulb in an old socket which was not used for long so that it gives a “Dim-Lit” romantic view). There was this double bed without any flowers (I do not like that flowery kind and had insisted that there wouldn’t be any flowers). I was afraid that there may be some noise (for obvious reasons), so, had on the previous day, secured the windows shut and instructed people in my house not to open it. I did not like the concept of the traditional “Doodh* Ka Glass” somehow (probably, it is because of having seen it in so many movies, the romanticism of it has gone away) and thankfully, even the people in my house did not insist on it.
She was sitting there as silently as ever, which is also one of the reasons why I loved her so much. Her contours were clearly on display even in the dim light and I could not stop admiring her. She was as always shy but I was sure she was enjoying my admiration since she did not even flinch from her position.
I knew I had to make the fist move. I was also told by my innumerable “so called” experienced friends that it is always the men who had to make the first move. After all, I had to use their advice somewhere and this was the best opportunity to put their intellect to test. I had in the meantime rushed to the washroom to clean myself up (probably, much to her amusement) and came back fresh. This was to satisfy one school of thought that we had to converse openly on the first night and should not sleep. Counseling taught me that passion--an urgent product of desire--doesn't always develop on its own; it is often the hard-won fruit of intimate communication. This is a night I would remember for the rest of my life and wanted to make it special. It will NOT be all over in the morning is something I had to remember and for sure kept reminding myself. I wanted to switch on the music to start off, but was actually not sure if she would like it or what kind of music she liked. I was the kind of guy who would listen to Hindustani classical and doze off (which is also something I wanted to do since I was very tired). So, for the time being, music was not on the itinerary.
My mind had become clogged with innumerable ideas, which I realized was a result of the advices given by my friends and I was actually confused on how to begin. One thing I was sure of was that, I did not want to rush things thru and wanted to be as gentle as possible.
Was it thru a romantic shayari* of Ghalib* or a nonchalant smile which would ease some tension? I realized that it was normal since after all, such moments do not come daily in a one’s life.
I went near her and sat on the cot. My face was just inches away from that of hers and she could for sure feel my heavy breathing. I kind of did not like the “Removing the Gunghat*” tradition and she must have understood that and was not wearing the Ghagra Choli* kind of dress. My palms were sweating and so was I.
Was it thru a romantic shayari* of Ghalib* or a nonchalant smile which would ease some tension? I realized that it was normal since after all, such moments do not come daily in a one’s life.
I went near her and sat on the cot. My face was just inches away from that of hers and she could for sure feel my heavy breathing. I kind of did not like the “Removing the Gunghat*” tradition and she must have understood that and was not wearing the Ghagra Choli* kind of dress. My palms were sweating and so was I.
Finally unable to bear the summer heat, I decided to switch her on, did so using the remote and slept the rest of the night in the cool Videocon ACs breeze.
We lived happily ever after
Epilogue: The author has taken enough care to preserve the factuality of the above write up. All the events mentioned above had actually happened. However, there may be a few instances where his creativity may have taken over. The author hereby declares to the readers that the contents are factitious.
* Vastu - Indian science of building structure
* Doodh - Milk
* Gunghat - The cloth with which the Indian bride covers her head
* Shayari – Poem in Hindi/Urdu which usually consists of a quartet
* Ghalib – A famous 19th Century Indian poet
* Ghagra Choli - A Indian dress that a bride wears on her wedding night
posted by Prasanna G @ 4:47 AM
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