The First Time

The first time you kissed me it was on 27TH May.

I don’t actually remember our first kiss but I will never forget that night. I had been practicing my speech since morning because I hate how I fumble it in front of you. I looked in the mirror and practiced my lines till the time I didn’t have them spot on. I remember coming over in the auto to pick you up and every time you smiled to say “Hi”, I would have my stomach churned. It was so funny, as to how little control I had over myself, like I was under some spell.  You asked to go somewhere quiet and we sat parallel in my room talking about random stuff but I always acted in astonishment.

I don’t actually remember our first kiss but I remember the electricity I felt around you. My pulse was always racing, my breath shortened, my senses on fire. It was like being able to feel everything at once while being simultaneously numb to everything that wasn’t you. I remember feeling like a magnet, like going towards you, being with you was completely out of my control.

How cliché can I possibly be? For someone who boasted on how they could have control on how they felt, I failed miserably. I couldn’t control it, perhaps I never wanted to.

I don’t actually remember our first kiss but I remember how you tasted. I remember being over the moon when you told me how much you loved the anime “Death Note”. We discussed the plot over all over again and it was reassuring that you thought that Light didn’t have to die the way he did. All the things that we spoke about in that evening had me growing in confidence that tonight, may just be the first time. All of the promises and the hope I had have been building for months were finally on the verge of being fulfilled. For the first time in years I could taste potential, I could taste passion, I could taste love.

How ludicrous was I? I remember telling you that how there is never such thing called “Falling in love at first sight” but the first time you kissed me I took time to comprehend as to what just happened. I remember momentarily being in the state of oblivion and the next thing I know, my head forgot to process things as it sees. The first time you kissed me, I was all yours.

I don’t actually remember our first kiss but I remember your eyes. I remember staring into it like I was trying to memorize your every last detail. I remember tracing your face with my fingers, with whispers, with the most ridiculously penetrating gaze, that it felt like at some level, I was reading your thoughts. How poetic is that? Had I been spending too much time Googling Charles Bukowski quotes? Here you were, someone I had been thinking about for weeks, for months, and I was self-conscious about the idea of you looking at me.

But I prayed you’d never stop.

The first time you kissed me it was on May 27th at 8.13 pm . I remember asking you

“Are you ever going to kiss me?”

And your answer was interrupted by the evening Azan prayer which came from the nearby mosque. It was the longest 30 seconds of my life. My pulses were racing and I thought my heart was going to burst at any time. I had prepared myself for either of your answers. And then you said


And the last thing I told you before I kissed you was

“I can’t wait any longer”

Nothing killed more than the anticipation but saying it was the best feeling ever is an understatement.

The first time you kissed me was the last time something so trivial meant so much. I remember the rest of the first kisses as exactly what they were, a first step to the next. But with you it was so much more. Something that I keep under lock and key and so close to my heart I can’t actually pinpoint the exact moment.


I don’t remember much of our first kiss, except for it never wanting to end.

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