Thursday, December 12, 2013

A breezer story.


She sat in a corner and watched the others.She had a lot on her mind. She did not want to be there but somehow she was here and she looked at the people swarming around her.
One of the boys was strumming a guitar and the rest of the lot sang along loudly and a little out of tune, having guzzled quite a few bottles of beer. They were playing a Bryan Adams song when he walked in.
Her heart stopped for a moment. Was it really him or? She absentmindedly stroked her drink. A bottle of her favourite flavour of breezer. Jamaican Passion. She hoped he could not see her so that she could watch him for a little while. It was him alright. A ghost from her past. And her thoughts drifted to the night she first set eyes on him.

All of sixteen and ready to take on the world, she was at a birthday party and dancing with her girl friends when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She turned to face a lanky young man, hair falling over his beautiful eyes, an honest face smiling at her.
She blushed and didn't know whether to be angry or flattered. The stranger was asking her for a dance. She could feel all eyes on her.
Feeling confused, she laughed self consciously and walked away from the dance floor.
He followed her to her corner, all eyes following the developments. "You'd better leave me alone" "Just one dance" "No. I don't think so. I don't dance with strangers" "One song. No more."
Suddenly it felt too warm and constricting, so she stepped outside. The thump of the music fading. The air was crisp and cold.  She shivered and hugged herself, looking up at the clear night skies and the stars shining down. She felt a heavier coat on her shoulders. It was him, throwing his coat around her. His perfume filled her head and she could feel her cheeks burning again.
"Hi, I am Ian and I hope we can be friends." He held out a bottle to her. "I don't drink." "You could try this. Pretty light and nice. Perfect for a gem like you. My sister loves it."
"Just because your sister likes it doesn't mean I will like it too." He smiled.
"I bet you will like it too." He smiled. She took the bottle and looked at it. Breezer. Jamaican passion. The label said. "Here, let me open it for you."
Tentatively, she took a sip. She wanted to disagree with him and say she did not like it, but it was really good. "How is it?"
"Not too bad, I have to confess. Reminds me of the passion fruit juice my grandma used to make in the summers. Crisp, fragrant and sparklingly tasty."
"Good. My sister was right. You are very pretty." "Oh! Right and who is this sister of yours?" He gave her an enigmatic smile.
Slightly irritated, she hurriedly finished off her first drink feeling the piercing gaze of the handsome stranger.
She chided herself thinking about how she had just had her first alcoholic beverage with a stranger, no matter how handsome and felt foolish.
"There you are!" said a familiar voice. She turned to find her best friend, Jane smiling at her. "Oh! So you have met?"
And then it dawned on her, the handsome stranger was Jane's older brother who had been away at university and had just come home after graduating.
"Oh my gosh! Why didn't you tell me so?" "And spoil the surprise?" "I nearly made a fool of myself"
"Don't worry, you are in safe hands." His eyes were twinkling as he laughingly shook her hands formally.
"You have grown a lot." She blushed even deeper. "Oh stop it, you old man" said  sweet Jane. "So now, what about a dance now that I have established that I am not a stranger?"
She felt very grown up and beautiful as she danced with Ian. He was so handsome and gentlemanly. A few dances later and some more breezers, they were ready to head out of the party.

Jane called her the next day. "Ian wants to take us driving in his new car for a picnic." "Don't forget to pick up some breezers."
She blurted out and Jane was laughing and saying "We have a new breezer fan" as she cut off the call.
It was magic as she drove shotgun in Ian's new car, a sleek electric blue i20 and picnicked under the blue skies of Shillong in the green glades.
He seemed to draw her out like a magnet and yet he kept a slight distance unlike the night at the dance. She felt out of sorts by the end of the day. But as he drove her home, under the watchful eyes of Jane, he planted a soft but chaste goodnight kiss on her forehead. She could not face her best friend and ran in red-faced but whooping with joy.

Two first loves. A breezer and wonderful Ian. Who knew a bottle could open up so many memories?
It had all started with a bottle of Jamaican passion.

Jane was ecstatic with the developments. Her best friend and her dear brother, together. Wow. They went on many picnics and long drives with many a breezer in tow. But time can do so much and things went awry in some time. Ian got a job out of town and the distance finally did them in. Neither of them knew what really went wrong but they hadn't seen each other in years.

Tonight, when she saw him walk in to the room, it was as if fate was giving her a second chance. She walked up to him and gently tapped him on his shoulder. He turned around, and as recognition dawned on his face, he smiled. His next words told her that everything would be alright again between them. "Should I get you a Jamaican Passion?"

This post was written for the #Catchtheflavor Contest powered by indibblogger.in. Click here for more details.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Shy boy.

And he lives in my dreams.
Thrives in my thoughts.
Oh Boy! Where art thou?



He, of perfection
Chiselled jaw, sharp nose and
Sunkissed skin.
Deep brows and eyes sparkling with intelligence.
Chocolate voice that weakens my knees
Hair softly teasing my fingertips,
When my hands run through.

He holds me close to his chest,
I hear the beats loud and clear.
He has affection, deep and true,
Though lips are wordlessly mute.

And kisses like drawing breath,
From a sudden lack of air.
Infusing me with passion in his embrace.
But draws away into his world
When I look into his eyes.
Shy boy.

You  make me smile.
I wonder why.
I miss the rush of the wind in my ear,
As shadows grow in threes and fours.
Flashing by under the streetlights.

When will you hold me again?