The missing page of my '13 diary

*originals*

My lips, the upper and the lower, in mutual consent with each other, hold your upper lip and suck the saliva off it. Your lips do the same to my lower. Ouch! You almost bit it off. My palm, the right, is on your cheek, rubbing through your soft, smooth skin as the back of my hand feels your slightly wet, curly hair - probably wet from your long session in front of the mirror in the girl's washroom. My fingers slowly entangle with strands of your hair and my body thrusts on yours. Your back almost hits the wall, which breaks contact between our lips. My eyes open up. Yours are already open. But I see them slowly closing again, the same as mine are. This time my upper meets your upper, my lower your lower - the lips. My tongue enters your territory, your mouth and wakes your tongue up from it's slumber. Both our tongues are desperately trying to conquer the other's territory. Both our eyes are unaware of the surroundings. The surroundings have, anyway, ceased to matter. I have forgotten where I am. Almost. As our lips refuse to separate, my left hand shifts places from your back to your waist. In a stealthy motion, my thumb lifts your yellow t-shirt which slightly exposes your waist to the chilly wind - probably that is why you shiver for a second. My little finger accidentally (or maybe not) feels your bare waist. All my other fingers are jealous. Your smooth waist has aroused me. This time the chill is down my back. My hand, the left - the pervert that it is - lifts your tee, and in no time, the entire palm is inspecting your waist. Your smooth skin. The curve - the perfect curve that I've always wowed. I take one step forward and further push you against the wall just as the most irritating sound of the day hits our ears.
 Trrinnnnggggg.... It disturbs my passion and brings us back to earth. We realize we're still in school and I almost see you running away. But my hand - the left - the bastard, in reflex has held your left. You stop, you look back. "I love you", I say with the most genuine smile I have ever produced. Your face of panic suddenly transforms to a cheerful smile - it makes my day. I release your hand and see you run away. I laugh. Then I leave behind you to my class - roaming through the corridors as casual and as intrepid as ever.

-Sahej \m/
~somewhere around May 2013~

घनिष्ठ मित्र - जीवन सुधारक (Best friend - life improviser)

*originals*

Mid-February, 2014.

My friend from hostel, Shivam, posted in good humour, 'Why does Sahej acts as English teacher on facebook?' I was a grammar freak back then, not sure about now, and it was so funny to me how Shivam had to post a status against my grammarian attitude IN WRONG GRAMMAR! While I went on to correct him in the first comment, there already was a comment saying 'act*' doing the job that I was planning to. The comment was by some 'Unique Sparkle' and the second comment by the same person said even he hated it.

Of course, that was me misreading it and commenting against the hypocrisy of the person. In further comments, I realised my fault and had to apologise. However further commenting perpetuated and whoever this Unique Sparkle creature was starting discovering uncountable similarities with me. I didn't know why I continued commenting there, I didn't know why Unique did. But there was definitely something unique in the comment-chat that ensued. From commenting on each other's funny names to discussing our alleged love lives and interests, we just did not seem to get bored of it. After the status crossed about a hundred comments amidst which I realised this Sparkle was one among the fairer sex, we finally decided to move to chatbox and I also sent her a friend request. Which was promptly accepted, of course. We chatted day in, day out and started realising we were both just the same, exactly, precisely, uncomprehendingly, undefinably, just the same! We both wrote, had a creative mind, were interested in artistic pursuits, were grammar nazis, self-obsessed, what-not. Everything was the same. Only, she was she and I was, am he.

Eventually - actually not eventually - very quickly, we exchanged numbers and in our phone calls we'd, more often than not, say the exact same thing at the exact same time and then either laugh in awe or silence ourselves in shock. She told her mother once, 'If you were to have a son, he would be just like him.' Even our thought process, family types, life stories were photocopied. This was so inorganic, digging into somebody who is just what you are, only in the opposite sex, without exaggeration. And no, this story is not heading towards the love story you think it is. In our very first chat, she had exclaimed how we were almost like twins born from different wombs. That's what we assume till date. We are both the 'only child' of our respective parents yet know in our hearts we have a twin who lives far away.

The girl I'm talking about is none other than your SIm admin and quotes queen, AP. We've met what, eight times, yet share such a bond that we like to call invincible.

This post is not here to promote chatting with unknown strangers on social networks where you're easily vulnerable. What I do want to say is never refuse to your gut feelings. When something seems or feels right, it is right. When friendship of a stranger knocks your door - whether in a train, in the ticket queue, or on a social network - go ahead, open. The stranger just might turn out to be the best friend you could meet ever, or worse still, your own twin buddy. 

-Sahej \m/