LOVE MAKING-SORT OF EMPTY

“I just want to see how it feels to make love to someone I am not in love with.” The summer is beginning to make its impact. The scorching heat of the day had almost sapped the energy and as the night sets in, the heat takes a toll; it turns into a silken seducer. The shower is doing the magic; the trickling water carves the mood to dance. The guiding rules of sensuality initiate my desires and I accept the consenting embrace and then, we owe each other an erotic explanation to enact in playful mood. While enacting we are not alone, the credible love facilitates the love making. The orchestrating love with sensuality maintains the longevity and that’s when we say; 'Oh! It’s so fulfilling.' Thereafter too, we hear the chimes of heart. It is not ritual, we hold each other and she places her head on my chest and I caress her back and that’s how the love longs. This is not a freaking explanation of love making and if anyone wishes to write off this as my fantasy, then surely, I owe an explanation to them. Let me explain-With all honesty I cannot cosmetically color my emotions to conceal and to me that’s not a love. Any two consummating bodies in the absence of love is just a macabre display of arrogating lust, it comes as an itch and it goes; rather it never lasts. My love is not transgressing into the life, where love making is only taken as ritual. Many a time drifting temptations failed me but at the cost of my diminution only in my own eyes. It is so painful to live with fake emotions. We just cannot pretend. Love making is not a transient exploration and if it is so then it is only subservient to itching desires. To supplement my views, I wish to quote a dialog from a movie and it’s like this: heroine says that, “I just want to see how it feels to make love to someone I am not in love with.” At this the heroine was asked, “How does it feel?” She replies, “Sort of Empty.”

MONICA MY FIRST CRUSH (I am submitting this entry as part of the Blogadda’s contest)

I am picking up certain moments of life which I treasure in my thoughts and this one is about my first crush I just cannot forget the hot sultry days of Bamrauli Air force station in Allahabad. Haunting melodies of 60’s were also making way into the lives of Airmen of Indian Air Force. And one of the most haunting music of its time came in movie by name ‘COME SEPTEMBER’. My father was an Airman and the mess parties were regular feature. Like many other youngsters I too always brazenly tried to hone my twisting skills in those mess party’s. And the music of ‘COME SEPTEMBER’ could elicit the best out of me. I can vividly recall a dainty girl in pink frock when I met her first time in one of the party and she was Monica. When I saw her first time, my instinctive skills of flirting was put to test and the music of ‘COME SEPTEMBER’ facilitated my crush over her. We became great friends. I don’t know what was happening then but it gave me a real good feeling. Monica was living just few houses away from us, so we had the close proximity to each other. The most thrilling part for us was to rush towards the fence to see the passing train. Train always fascinated us. The whistling sound of passing train delighted us and preserved our affection with intensely. Our different ethnic affiliation made no difference in showering the affection for each other. Each day with her was blessing because she was so good to me. This blessing was short lived as we had to part because of my father’s transfer from Allahabad. I was very happy to travel by train and to move to new place but not knowing that this very train will take away from me, my dear Monica. My innocence knew no nuances of transfer and shifting from place to place. The departed moments etched forever. Monica and his family didn’t came to the Railway Station to see us off but at our insistence (Monica and I) her parents promised that they will be at the fence along with Monica to wave good bye to me . We were overjoyed and to us it was a game with more thrills. While my train passed through I waved playfully and Monica too responded with equal joy. It was a new game which started and finished in one minute…In the final moments of our game I saw her hair ruffling with wind and she gone…I remembered the absolute silence filled the void and I lost her sight…she was waving at me and I lost her for ever. Thereafter I never saw her. I lost her and the passage of time has still not erased the etched memory of my first crush. I don’t know where she is but yes whenever I pass through by train the Bamrauli Air force station I look for the open land between our living quarters and the fence… I find nothing…. Those old quarters are not there any more nor Monica. The familiarity of my past align the symmetry with present and I find Monica rushing towards the railway track…calling my name loudly uttam…uttam…uttam……….In the stillness of time I can see Monica’s hair ruffling in the wind. I am yelling in my thought Monica… Monica…Monica. Somewhere in the wrapped times two kids Monica and Uttam dancing over the music of ‘COME SEPTEMBER’ and thinking this tears rolls down to my cheeks….MONICA MY FIRST CRUSH.