This is a story of a boy who is on the verge of teenage or rather 14 when he first falls in love. The girl is not the protagonist here. But after having a crush on a few more girls, he realizes that he is capable of loving not only girls but guys to...
It had been two weeks since we started talking on WhatsApp. His messages were like a cricket match with India or the basketball match being played by our boy's team. If they were giving me hope to continue with my mission of love, I would spend my day as happy as ever. But if they were something like the outcome of the match between our girl's basketball team and Bhuli's team, that is, defeat by one point – I spent a day in depression.
He had caused tears to flood my eyes and my diary. He first showed me a future then he snatched that opportunity from me in the nick of time. I don't know but there was something about him which made me go mad. My breath hitched and I hyperventilated. I don't know if this was not love, what was? But he did not care even a bit. He lived his life and he should obviously. But at least he could not be so friendly and look at me in that manner which gave me goosebumps. His eyes. His brown eyes were more beautiful than the amber of Deepak. And the love I saw in his eyes was immense. But nevertheless, I was destined to be in agony.
Our school was preparing for the first semester exams to be held in less than a month when a disaster struck the coast of De-nobili. New Admission! In class 11th.
"I am very proud today because of the legacy this school has maintained over the years and the reputation it has. This is why, today our school is embraced by a special exchange student from Kolkata. Mihir Avichal." Our principal spoke while I was tying my shoelaces in the washroom. Who ties it there? Me.
Before I was about to ponder on this admission, the most fine-grained voice spoke reminding me of Akash.
"A very warm good morning to all here. I am Mihir Avichal. I am an exchange student from Saint Xavier's Kolkata. I am a Commerce pupil. To those who are wondering, do not worry, I am done with my syllabus of the semester. So I will not be a pain. I hope to do good for the school through my experience and talents. I have represented my former school in Nationals Basketball and Debate. The Music Academy of Kolkata has awarded me for my contribution to Cultural Music Of Bengal. I look forward to peace in this school. Thank you. May your day be as you wish it to be."
The entire assembly was silent. No one in the history of De-Nobili had given such an eloquent speech. I myself was shocked.
"And now we have our student, Amarsahara who will welcome our guest." And then I ran. I ran like Usain Bolt's shoes were on fire and the pool, was a mile away. In no time I was there on the stage and out of excitement for delivering a welcome to someone I barely know, I dropped the papers I was carrying on the stage. The entire gathering burst into laughter and this new boy came to help me.
I saw a fair hand tanned by the sun as evident by the white palms but he was still fair. Then I saw smooth skin, hazel brown eyes and a beard. A beautiful, maintained and seductive beard. My eyes were looking into his eyes when he handed me those papers. The moment froze and I was there falling into his eyes. Everything faded. The laughing assembly, fainting students and glaring Keshav on command. It was me and Mr. Avichal.
And then I came out of his eyes. I could not fall in love with him and get into more trouble. He was a new student and I was better off not showing my real colours to him. By estimate, he was 6' tall. But taller than the sulking stoic who was on command.
I welcomed him without looking at him.
I welcomed him without saying his name.
I welcomed him saying things I couldn't comprehend.
My mind said, "Uh-oh. Love!!"
And my heart affirmed it by the palpitations.
Ok. It is not good when your mind and heart agree on the topic but you don't.
I was walking to my class when I heard an angelic voice. A masculine voice that made my hair stand on the edge.
"Excuse me. May I know your name please?"
He was hot. He was a packet of abusive seductive things not meant to be written here. His eyes were perfect and hazel brown. His beard was less but maintained. His lips were tinted red. His muscles were well-defined but did not give gym rat vibes. His physique is better than any player. He was a monster. And I was ready to be devoured by this gentleman. But he was not gay or 'Pansexual'.
"My name is Amarsahara."
"That is a bit long. What happens to be your nickname, sir?"
Sir. Call me slave, master. I saw his lips and my throat parched. He was a few feet away and I was there in the bedroom with his imagination. Stop??? No.
"Babu. They call me."
"Oh. I guess we are too new to use this name. I guess I will call you Amar."
"Amarsahara will be better." I heard another boy. It was Mihir. I mean Keshav. I could see his eyes dark. His jaws clenched and his veins popping up in his arms. He was certainly angry and I enjoyed it. Was he jealous?
"Sorry sir. I do not know you."
"I am Keshav. And you can stop being so chivalrous. I am not a girl. Welcome and why don't you explore the school. There are some areas that are out-of-bounds for newcomers. He is one of them." Keshav pointed at me. wow. He was being possessive for no reason.
Mihir – Avichal understood the sarcasm and as a true Gen-Z he commented. " Sorry, but I like to claim other's property. I have been doing it in Basketball. Scoring in other people's areas and debating with the random. And I guess I am a prodigy in stealing things from others – be it success or beautiful people."
Yes, daddy. I am beautiful. Now span... Wtf!!! My holy mind.
"Ok. Ok. Now we go back to class." I broke in before they started World War III there.
But the problem came when they went ahead and I was given the task of calling Keshav. Out of habit, I called, "Mihir."
Both of them turned and said, "YES!!!" Ok. This is going to be a tough match.
While m mind said these few things:
"Oh Mihir Avichal. Come eat it. Eat it while it's hot. It's dripping and you licking. Sipping it. Slipping it. I am having verbal abuses, my lord. Oh, admiralty. Devour me. Eat it up. Devastate me. destroy me." And things that are out of the scope of our Language syllabus.
Plot twist. Did you like it? This is where it gets exciting. I imagined the encounter of my ex with my current passion.
This Avichal is the reason I debate so well. And he is the reason I like brown eyes, beard and muscles. I have him as a secret in my life and to be honest, it's the best-kept secret. This man is not mine anymore but we can die for each other today also.
Love. Amarsahara.
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