Page 5 of 12 Years: My Messed-up Love Story

‘No.’

‘Payal?’

‘Just a bit.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know … a part of me had started to believe that something was wrong with me. That nobody would ever kiss me.’

‘What? Are you crazy? Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?’ I said.

‘Thank you,’

she said softly, lifting her face from my chest to look at me.

‘Also, one more thing,’ she said.

‘What?’

I said tenderly.

‘Can we skip these Surf Excel ads and put on some real music?’

Both of us burst into laughter. I selected the next song and hit play. The opening strains o.

‘Saajnaa’, from the film Lamhaa, filled the room.

‘Such a soulful song,’

she whispered.

‘So, how do you feel?’

‘You mean after my first kiss?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m okay, I think. A part of me was like, “Wow. This is finally happening.” Another part was like, “This is it? This is what the big fuss is all about?” And then there is that nasty part, spoiling things as always.’

‘What nasty part?’

She didn’t look at me.

‘The part that guilt-trips me. Says things like, “You’re a bad girl, Payal. What are you doing? This is so wrong. You’re letting your parents down.”’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. And that’s why, more wine please.’

‘I think we’ve had enough—’

‘You’re old, you should keep it in check. But please, I’d like some more,’

she said, holding her empty glass out towards me.

‘You, Payal Jain, are brutal.’

‘Come on, a first kiss is momentous. A girl’s allowed an extra glass of wine after that,’ she said.

Shaking my head, I got up and refilled both our glasses.

‘Cheers,’

I said as I handed the glass back to her and took a sip of the wine.

Maybe it was all the wine we’d had, or perhaps it was the kiss that made me bold. I sat down and placed my hand on her leg. An electric current shot through me.

‘I like you, Payal,’ I said.

‘I like you too, Saket …’

‘And I trust you. After a long time, I feel like I can trust someone. And that’s you.’

‘I trust you too.’

‘And I feel special.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m the first guy to kiss you.’

‘Oh,’

she looked at me, her gaze steady, and said.

‘I feel special too.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m the first girl you’ve liked after your divorce, right?’

Before I could answer, however, she spoke again.

‘Or wait, I may be wrong. Am I? I’m just assuming—’

‘No, you’re right,’

I cut her off mid-sentence.

‘I had decided to never be in a relationship again. But you, something about you …’

‘What about me?’

‘Initially, I thought it’s just physical attraction, an infatuation perhaps.’

‘And now?’

‘Now … it isn’t just that. When we sat here on the ledge earlier, sipping our wine in silence, it felt right. I felt at peace. That’s the best test—when you feel comfortable in the silences, and it doesn’t feel awkward. There’s something real there.’

Payal didn’t respond. She just continued to look right into my eyes.

I stood up and gently pulled her by her hands to make her stand beside me. Then I leaned forward and kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back, pouring herself into the moment.

I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt and placed Payal’s hand inside. Fine, I admit it—I wanted her to feel my chiselled pecs. Did she notice? I couldn’t tell. She only held me tighter as we kissed again, and again and again. She had waited more than twenty years for her first kiss, but the next hundred came by in just twenty minutes.

I pulled away for a quick second to drop my shirt on the floor, and came back to kiss her.

‘Is this wrong?’

she said once, her hands caressing my upper body.

‘What?’

‘I haven’t done this before, Saket. I don’t know, but is this how it’s supposed to happen?’

‘There are no rules about how it happens.’

I kissed her again. I kissed her eyes. Her neck.

She giggled.

‘Sorry, that’s a bit ticklish,’ she said.

I whispered in her ears.

‘Let’s go inside? But only if you want to …’

‘I want to,’

she said after a pause.

‘Sure?’

‘Yes.’

I held her hand and led her into the bedroom. We sat on my bed, facing each other.

‘You’re beautiful, Payal,’ I said.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

I put my arms around her and found the zipper at the back of her dress. She lifted her head to look at me. I gently tugged at the zipper. But I couldn’t open it. She moved her hands back to assist me, and a second later, her unzipped dress fell to the side, pooling around her waist. She sat there on my bed, looking vulnerable and beautiful, her hands instinctively going up to cover her breasts. I felt my breath catch. I kissed her again, keeping it slow and easy until I felt her relax in my arms. Her hands moved up across my chest. When I made a move to unhook her bra, she didn’t protest. With the tips of my fingers, I skimmed over her breasts, which were barely visible in the dark room with only the diffused streetlight coming in from outside. She shivered in immediate response, her back arching at my touch.

‘I’ve never … I’ve never felt anything like this before,’

she said softly.

‘I’ll go slow,’

I said.

‘Trust me?’

She closed her eyes and nodded.

I kissed her again and again, showering little pecks all over her face. I caressed her breasts, her arms, her face. I couldn’t get enough of her. Overwhelmed, I sat up straighter and took a few deep steadying breaths.

‘You okay?’

she asked.

‘It’s been a long time since …’

‘I know …’

she said softly, interlacing her fingers with mine.

‘Is this what people do then?’

she asked a second later.

‘Meaning?’

‘People who date?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Are we on a date then?’

‘Now, definitely yes.’

‘Nice,’

she said, closing her eyes and smiling.

‘We’re definitely dating right now. Cool.’

‘You are way too cute.’

I pulled her to me, and her breasts touched my chest, instantly turning me on again.

‘Come here,’

I said, making her lie down on the bed with me, her body pressed against mine as we cuddled in our underwear.

‘You’re turned on?’

she said after a second.

‘Of course,’

I said.

‘What else did you expect?’

‘I don’t know. I … I’ve never seen it before.’

‘Never seen what before?’

‘A man’s thing. Turned on. Or even otherwise, actually.’

‘Would you like to?’

‘I think so. I mean I want to, out of curiosity. But I’m also feeling very shy,’

she said, hiding her face in my chest.

‘You’ve seen it in pictures, right? Or movies?’

‘You mean porn? Yes, I’ve seen porn.’

‘Have you ever done things with porn?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like … you know … touch yourself while watching porn?’

‘Stop it. What kind of questions are you asking me?’

she said and giggled.

‘I’m only trying to understand how much you know.’

‘Ugh. I tried. To do the touching thing,’

she said, giggling a little.

‘And? What happened?’

‘It kind of felt good. But I don’t think anything happened. Also, maybe it was just the movie I chose, it looked too graphic and gross. After a while, I went eww and stopped it.’

‘Did you ever try it again?’

‘Only a few times. But I felt nothing. Apart from the guilt, of course, the great Jain guilt.’

‘Porn and masturbation are also on the Jain not-to-do list?’

‘Why won’t they be? Anything sinful and fun is on that list. Not just Jain, it’s on every good Indian girl’s not-to-do list.’

‘But did your parents specifically tell you that?’

‘No. But which Indian parents talk to their kids about sex?’

‘True.’

‘But I’m learning now,’

she said, turning towards me.

‘And this doesn’t feel gross. It feels … nice? Exciting?’

I kissed her again. Her breathing quickened.

‘You’ve never had an orgasm?’ I said.

‘I don’t think so,’ she said.

‘Well, since today is a day of many firsts for you’—I half rose, leaning on my elbow—‘is it okay if I try to make you have one?’

Our eyes met. She nodded.

I kissed her face, and then moved down, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, stomach and navel. When I reached the waistband of her underwear, I stopped. I hooked my fingers around it and looked at her. She lifted herself up on her elbows to look at me.

‘I’m nervous,’

she whispered.

‘Why?’

‘I’ve never been fully naked in front of anyone. Not even a doctor.’

‘I understand. But good nervous?’

She smiled.

‘Yeah. But I also don’t want to get pregnant or something.’

‘We’re not having sex.’

‘We’re not?’

‘No. I don’t even have any protection with me.’

‘Oh?’

‘I don’t have any condoms lying around. I wasn’t planning on anything happening. I didn’t even know we would be coming here, to my house.’

‘Do you think I shouldn’t be here?’ she said.

I sat up and looked into her eyes.

‘I think you should always be here and never leave.’

She smiled shyly.

‘Relax,’

I said, and gently pushed her back down on the bed again. Then I peeled her underwear off, and slowly pushing her legs apart, I placed my mouth between her legs.

‘Oh my … ah!’

She bit her lower lip to stifle her moans as I began pleasuring her.

I clasped both her hands with mine. A few minutes later, her body trembled, her back arched and she moaned loudly before collapsing limply.

‘Oh my God,’

she said after a few seconds, her eyes fluttering open. She let out a deep sigh.

‘What just happened?’

‘You tell me,’ I said.

‘It felt like … I don’t know. It was an intense sort of a pleasure for a few seconds. My whole body shook, and I thought I’d explode. Look, I’m still shivering. I had an orgasm, isn’t it? I did no?’

She looked amazed.

‘That’s it then. You did have one,’

I said, grinning.

‘Wow. Thank you.’

‘You don’t have to thank me.’

‘Why not? You made it happen. So, thank you.’

‘What can I say? My pleasure.’

She smiled.

‘And … how about you?’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Won’t you … you know, do your thing as well?’

I looked at her and smiled.

‘Anything I can do to help?’ she said.

‘Just hold me and lie next to me,’

I said, climbing back into the bed. She cuddled and kissed me as I pleasured myself. When I finished a few minutes later, I wiped myself with some tissues from the bedside table and then turned to hold her.

‘How did it feel?’ she said.

‘Amazing.’

‘Okay, I’m happy to hear that,’ she said.

She yawned. I found that cute as well. Was I falling in love with her? Wait, was I already in love with her?

‘Sorry, but I’m feeling sleepy. I’d better go,’

she said, sitting up and searching for her clothes in the darkened room.

‘Go where?’

‘Home, where else?’

she said, picking up her dress from the floor.

‘It’s two in the morning.’

‘So? It’s okay. Mumbai’s pretty safe.’

‘Just sleep here, Payal,’ I said.

‘What? How?’

‘I’ll give you a T-shirt to sleep in.’

‘It’s not that. I’ve to go to my parents’

house in the morning. I don’t have my Indian clothes here.’

‘Just go to your Parel flat in the morning and then to your parents’

place. It’s Sunday. There won’t be any traffic.’

Payal continued to hold her dress and sit. She spoke after a pause.

‘Fine, but I’ll leave early.’

‘Sure,’ I said.

I got up and went to my closet. I came back with an old T-shirt from Gold’s Gym, San Francisco. On me, it looked fitted. On her, it felt massively oversized.

‘Sleep now.’

I stroked her hair.

‘You’re really nice, Saket,’

she murmured, drifting off to sleep.

‘Good morning,’

I said cheerfully.

Payal dragged her feet into the living room, rubbing her eyes and squinting as she adjusted to the bright sunlight. A small bulbul was perched on the window grill, its sweet cooing filling the room.

‘Good morning,’

she said in a sleepy voice.

‘What time is it?’

‘Eight.’

‘Damn, I’m late,’

she said. She noticed the spread on the dining table.

‘What’s all this?’

‘We have toast, jam, butter, Nutella, cheese and peanut butter. I have cereal and milk. There’s Greek yogurt, cut fruits and some fresh orange juice as well. I also made some poha. There’s tea and coffee. And guess what? Everything is Jain-friendly,’

I said with a grin.

‘Wow. Why so much?’

‘I didn’t know what you’d like for breakfast.’

‘When did you wake up?’

‘Six. Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d make us some breakfast.’

She looked at the flowers on the dining table.

‘And these flowers? I didn’t see them last night.’

‘No, I bought them now. When I went down to get stuff for breakfast. You like them?’

‘Yeah, but—’

She stopped mid-sentence.

‘Wait, where are my clothes?’

‘Why? You look cute in my T-shirt. Come, sit. Coffee? Or tea?’

‘No, I need to go home.’

‘I know. But have something first. You can book an Uber later.’

‘I’d rather go now. Ow, I have a headache,’

she said, holding her head in her hands.

‘You’re hungover. Have some orange juice. It’ll help.’

‘Where are my clothes?’

she asked, ignoring me and going back into the bedroom.

‘Found them,’

she called out a second later.

I followed her into the bedroom.

‘Hey, I’m changing!’

she said when I walked in.

‘Sorry,’

I said and retreated to the living room.

She came out dressed after five minutes.

‘Juice?’

I said, offering her a glass.

‘My Uber is on its way,’ she said.

‘Oh, you booked one already?’

I said.

‘How far is it?’

‘Two minutes away. I’d better go down.’

‘Just have some juice before you leave, please.’

She took the glass of juice from me and gulped it all down in under ten seconds.

‘Thanks,’

she mumbled and quickly walked out the door.

‘You really are in a rush,’

I said as I took the lift with her.

‘I am.’

Outside, her Uber had arrived.

‘I had a great time with you yesterday. The whole thing. Aer. Bandstand. Home,’ I said.

‘Oh, thank you as well. Thanks for dinner,’

she said, getting into the cab.

‘I’ll see you soon?’

‘Let’s see,’

she said and zoomed off in her hired cab.

Let’s see—the two most cryptic words a woman can say. Ever.

Seven hours and forty-seven minutes. That’s how long it had been since Payal had not replied to my message. She hadn’t enabled the blue-tick feature on WhatsApp, so I couldn’t even tell if she had seen it. Why do people turn off the blue ticks anyway?

I had messaged her.

‘Was great seeing you. Hope you made it in time for lunch at your parents’?’

Innocent enough, right? So why the hell hadn’t she responded? Had she ‘ghosted’

me, a term her generation used all the time? What was happening? She’d been cuddling with me just hours ago. Now I was waiting for her reply like a death-row convict waiting for a pardon.

Should I message her again? But that would be double-texting—something only clingy people did. Was I being clingy?

Why was I, a five-foot-eleven bulked-up man with a six-pack, feeling so powerless waiting for a tiny notification to pop up on my phone?

This was exactly why I’d wanted to avoid relationships. Damn it, respond already, girl.

I typed ou.