Thank you all!!
I started this off as a random blabber about a fictious night out. However, after responses from you guys, I was enthused to write more. I have to apologize for the abrupt ending though. I have always written for myself, and pronlonging the end till later would have made me write things I didn't believe in. I even thought of leaving the story as it is, but after some words of encouragement (thanks behoove and lynx), I decided to end it.
I don't mention Stephen anywhere in this story. That is because I feel like our chapter calls for a story of its own (which I promise is on its way). I will also write many more stories, no matter where I am. You know what they say, you can take the girl out of sajha, but you can't take sajha out of the girl.
Dates - Part III
This is purely an art of fiction. Resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a mere co-incidence.
The best part about your first kiss are the moments that lead to it. All of a sudden you think of everything – the things you like about him, your first date, the first time he held your hands…Unfortunately for me, I was busy thinking of the pastrami soup I had earlier in the day and if he would taste the garlic. Dorky, I know, but that’s how I am. And I didn’t know the protocol! Us Nepali youngsters don’t get the sex talk (or whatever it is called) from our parents. My knowledge of kisses was limited to a Bollywood couple getting real close and the screen zooming into two flowers touching each other (well ok, that’s an exaggeration)
I doubt it was Aashish’s first kiss though. He looked like the one who would have had a couple girlfriends in high school.
I met Aashish at a family function a couple years ago. He looked like any other Nepali guy – a loose fitting tee, blue jeans, gelled and spiked hair. However, there is something sexy about a guy who reads Butler for fun (or maybe that’s just me). We talked about lipstick feminism, gender as a spectrum, and several other issues that would bore a normal human being to death. After we couldn’t take the weird gazes from middle-aged women in the room anymore, we parted, but only after exchanging msn ids (don’t be judging, msn chat was “in” those days).
“Aashish_cobain had added you to his friend list” popped on my screen later that night. I chuckled, wondering why people felt the need to add eerie names on their msn accounts. I swear, I had at least ten princess_insertfirstnamehere and cool_insertfirstnamehere on my friend list alone. Somehow, my name.surname looked sophomoric in that crowd.
Aashish and I talked a lot that month. By the end of it, I knew everything about him – from his guilty pleasures about Legally Blonde to his “grunge phase” in middle school. His facebook pictures then made it seem like he hadn’t showered for days, but he proudly claimed that it was his “just out of bed” look. (Word of advice guys, any sane girl will NOT dig that hairdo).
Some great soul in sajha once told me to keep my endings concise. So I will cut to the chase.
English movies reiterate the idea of love and wedding into your head so often that sometimes you forget your roots. You imagine a guy on his knees, reciting poetic verses, handing you a diamond ring. I was lost in one of those fantasies too, but luckily for me, the reality was close, pretty close.
Aashish proposed to me by the waters behind the government center in downtown Boston. Earlier that day, I got a text from him that was probably the best text I’ve received in my life (Well, Tyra Banks texting me that I was selected for ANTM was pretty close, jk jk)
“Hey hun! Dinner at Hard Rock tonight?”, not exactly the ideal location for an anniversary dinner, but that’s where we had our first official date. I had proceeded to spill the margarita all over my blouse after having one drink too many and he had walked me home.
“Sure, babe!”, I responded, as I grabbed my things to head out.
The dinner was normal; we talked about each other’s days and complained about the case of Mondays. That was a good end to a Monday though; what more could a girl ask for –flowers, and a guy with the sense of humor analogous to Colbert.
Dinners at Hard Rock always concluded with us walking down to the benches by the water and smoking cigarettes. Since this night was no different (well, until later), we did the same.
“Hey want to watch what’s on the other end?”, Ashish asked me as he dropped quarters into the telli ( I know they aren’t telescopes, but we called them so).
“Sure!”, I responded, partly weirded out by his desire to peek at things when it was pitch black.
After trying really hard to figure out what shapes different stars made, I gave up and turned around to grab a seat. There he was, exactly like I had imagined (slightly better actually), with a ring in his hands.
Obviously, I said yes.
The rest, as they say, is history.
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“Wrapping up your annehathaway saga, eh?” Aashish asked me as I was posting this on sajha.
“Lol I wish, I just started! I have many more stories to tell!”
“So, tell me, do guys hit on you out there?”, he was only half-kidding.
“Haha, not at all, babe! And you should know that I’m all yours!”, I winked at him.
“So you say!”
The End
