Erotica: Beyond Balconies Part 2

For a moment, I felt numbed by these thoughts. But my heart was adamant. I had to try, life is too small to not express what lies in our heart.

This story is a part of a two part erotic piece. Find part 1 here

Next day, I woke up late and ran to the office. It was a new day altogether. It was a cloudy day. The greens, on the way to my office, were a shade greener that day. I was eager to go to my old house to see him again. I could not concentrate on my work and just wanted time to run quickly. Finally, the day ended at office. I literally bolted out from there, straight to my old house. Balcony smiled at me and with its arms open, was waiting for me. I ran and hugged it back. It gifted me a peculiar fragrance in return, his fragrance, his raw manly smell, maybe it was the soap he used, or maybe the detergent I used for washing his clothes. I smelled his underwear and vest as they were left at my balcony to dry. They reminded me of him. I waited eagerly to grab his sight. But I guessed last day, I consumed all the luck I had and no luck was left for today. After waiting for more than three hours, I grew impatient and hopeless. I started going back to my place. I came and slept early.

The next day, a new hope dawned on me. I ran to the office. I was exploding with all sorts of emotions in my office. Hardcore happiness to darkest pessimism, I was going back and forth, through such emotions. I went to the washroom, more to cry, each time I missed him than for the actual purpose of the washroom. After I lost all control on my emotions, I decided to pour those all in a letter. I wrote it.

Dear Amit,

It seems unimaginable how I found love where I never expected- where I grew. I thought I outgrew my balcony and with that those feelings which seemed innate to me. It seems like a fairy tale, like the kid and naive version of me was still standing in the balcony waiting for the perfect spectator. And that day you found him and introduced me to him again. He loved you for finding him, acknowledging him, accepting him and most importantly loving him back. I thought he was forgotten and his beauty will never be seen again by the world. I thought his near-naked body was covered and bound with thousands of barriers to stop his natural creativity and naivety which he exuberated. You came and stripped him again. His each every part bathed naked. His penis dangled and jumped with raindrops pouring on it and his butthole gasped with each drop trying to reach inside. His navel cupped the droplets as if to never let those pass away. I saw you witnessing my younger version surfacing on me just like the pupa breaks away to let the butterfly come out. All the colors I exuberated then were as beautiful as the face god crafted for you. Your eyes were piercing me in the most pleasurable manner possible. Where were you all this while? I thought. I want to know you, each and every part of you. How you grew up? What are your quirks? I can see it in your eyes that you have been gifted with the lens to see me; see the real me. I want to see you too. All your flaws I want to embrace, all your scars I want to kiss, for the love I have for you goes deeper than your beauty.

I have met many shallow men in the “so-called” intellectual world but I never met a men nor expected a deeper and intense man such as you from a simple place like our colony. I do not know much about you but what I do know is that you have the key which opens the lock in my heart. But I question myself that do I have the lock which you always wanted to unlock. Do you love me too the way I love you? Can you see me as your life companion? Will you want to see me as you life partner?……. Rohit

I stopped writing as a tear, borne out of practicality, trickled down my cheeks thinking that where is this all leading to. Perhaps, to the same rejections I suffered over and over again with several conservative closeted gay men who preferred to be known as bisexuals as that gave them half of the validation they seek so desperately in our largely homophobic society and inflict the same wounds on other gays, who aspire to live openly, as the society or maybe they themselves inflicted upon themselves for being a gay man.

For a moment, I felt numbed by these thoughts. But my heart was adamant. I had to try, life is too small to not express what lies in our heart. So I decided to give this letter to him and wait for his response. I probably was being stupid. After all, maybe all it meant was a quick fuck. What the hell was I making out of it, my brain argued.

Sometimes, when confusion strikes me so heavily, I grow very impatient and I take decision in haste. And so it happened that day, I took half day from office and ran to the salon he owned. The journey to his Salon was filled with so many mixed and extreme emotions and questions like what if he accepted my proposal, will I die in his arms then from ecstasy? I smiled, uncontrollably pondering over this question in the Metro train Or what if he laughs it away, makes a joke out of it and spreads it in the colony? I shivered from this conclusion. I cried profusely pondering over, what if he rejects me and calls me a chhakka, a derogatory term, a crush of mine used to address me on the occasion where I confessed my love to him. I felt hopeless at the idea of him never being able to understand the depth of the love I felt for him at that moment.

Recovering from ramifications from such emotions, I decided, “Come what may”, for it would be a pity for love so strong, never expressed. And pity for my own self was the worst of all the emotions.

Thinking all that I reached Laxmi Nagar Metro Station, time and place for me to step out and reach for what I longed. Trusting the crowd to push and shove me out to the exit, I stepped out of the metro train with limp legs and crowd did what it promised. Walking out of the metro station, through the crowded and narrow lanes, I was finally standing outside his Salon. My eyes were frantically looking for him through the glass partition standing tall between him and me at that moment. Only sound, I could hear amidst the crowd was of my own heart beat running at an unbelievably high speed. And then it stopped for a moment, I spotted him, standing and talking to a customer. He was shining like a new penny, even in the afternoon and here I was, all sweaty and sticky but still perhaps hot enough to make him ejaculate in his pants, I giggled at my own thought and that was the moment when he spotted me too. Oh my god! his smile converted me from an intense looking man to a young teenage girl shying away as his lover stares directly into her eyes. Shit! Did he noticed me doing that? Why was I thinking all this? Perhaps, it was a confirmation that I was in LOVE!! The LOVE that writers talk about, the artists express in their work, film makers try to capture. He smiled like a Prince Charming would have, seeing his Prince Charming and asked me to come in through a hand gesture. Skipping a beat or so, I stepped inside searching for the letter I wrote in the office for him in the back pocket of my tight pants.

He smiled like he saw the most beautiful thing in front of him, I blushed, he opened his strong big arms and embraced me in his warmth. “Rohit, tum yaha kaise?” (Rohit, how come you are here?), he whispered in my ears and brought his lips as close to my ear as he could have, in his salon. I stammered, “to see you!!”, he smiled and asked if I would like to get a massage. I blushed again. Saying this, he grabbed my hand and took me to the massage room. “Isiliye aaye the na?” (Didn’t you come for this only?), he asked. I was happy to see him but something did not felt right when he said so, it was not the sex which brought me here. It was him which did so. But somehow, I was way too attracted to him to deny him. Hence, I agreed, although I was not very happy now.

Somehow, after all these years, I started conforming, becoming a man who can just do sex for expressing love to his gay mate, maybe it was a side-effect of living in a homophobic society which has words for homosexual acts like laundebaazi, gandugiri etc. which find acceptance amongst even straight men but no words for gay romantic love like samlaingik prem are heard, let alone being commonly used in the society, I came from.

He closed the door. He started touching me. This time there was no rain. There was no depth, it seemed. He started groping. He started fingering. I was longing for the same warmth. Can he not see what I want, like that day? How will he, it was dark here, that day we were in daylight, in front of the nature. We were out that day and now we were back in closet. I could not take it. I told him that I wanted to talk to him. He did not stop. He was not erect I felt. He was forcing himself on me, pinching my nipples, it was not love-making, it seemed like a quick masturbation. I pushed him back and told him again that I wanted to talk. I came outside and he followed me.

He seemed very disinterested in talking. I told him how much I missed him. He said that he would strip me again in my balcony. I asked, “Why will you?” To this, he replied, “kyunki tu jab nanga hota hai, toh tu ekdum masoom sa, bacha sa, khula hua banda lagta hai, jiske saath kuch bhi kar sakta hun, tu mera apna sa lagta hai!” (When you are naked, you look very innocent, like a kid, open and free man, with whom I can do anything, you seem like you belong to me!). It did something to me, I was not wrong, he did have depth, but he kept it to himself. “I love you!!”, I blurted out instantly, the words almost came to my mouth on their own, listening to him. He became silent and looked confused. He seemed like he was analyzing what I meant. “Karna hai abhi?” (Do you want sex now?), he said after a pause.

“No, dammit, I mean I love you! I want to be with you! I want to see you every morning after waking up! I want to be in your arms, I want to spend my life with you!”, I blurted everything out.

He looked confused and said, “Aise thodi hota hai, meri shaadi tay ho chuki hai” (It is not done the way you are saying, my marriage has been fixed already). It annoyed me to no end and suddenly I was hearing the crowd bustling outside which was not audible to me till now. I felt like something so integral to me left my body and in response my hand started searching the letter I wrote in my back pocket. I slammed it where I wanted it to reach, to his heart, his chest.

I left, blinded by tears. I reached home and cried myself to sleep. I never held pillow so tight in my life while sleeping as if I did not want it to leave me like the other people left me.

Suddenly, life was silent, like it gave me all the happiness I can afford and now I was bankrupt. I became a puppet of my surroundings, fulfilling all the duties, it required me to. I had no feelings left it seemed, it was just empty. Until one day, life decided to shake me up to let it all out.

That day, it was a particularly dark evening, unusual for the month of September. I used to pass from my old house, as it used to fall on my way back to home from office. I used to ignore it after the salon incident. But for some reason my eyes betrayed me that day and they wandered looking for it, the balcony, and him maybe or those memories perhaps. But something was different there that day, there was a tent on his roof, a red colorful bright tent, I stopped.

I did not want to comprehend what was right there in front of me. But I got the picture from seeing his mother in heavy gold jewellery and bright saree. It was his marriage day. For some reason, I felt very alone as I pictured him surrounded by many people and him smiling at all of them, the smile, I thought belonged to me.

All the lights on his roof started dancing in front of me, as tears filled my eyes. This time I cried, I cried hard. But I wanted to see him once, on his day, how handsome he looked and how happy he was. Maybe that would shatter me to pieces, but my heart wanted to capture him on his marriage. How could a heart which loved him so much, could miss him on this day? My legs supported my heart and I went to my balcony, where it started. Maybe that’s where I belonged, in my balcony, alone and waiting, I thought, wiping my tear.

He was not there, my heart started giving up. I felt weak and cold. Balcony, my space of freedom, which I always loved, also decided ditch me that day. It decided to make me feel bound that day, bound in a space from where I can see what I want, but can never get it. Tears welling up continuously and no sight of him, led me to give up. I could not wait for him to show up and break me up totally. I left.

I had no energy left and I slept. Next morning, I woke up in noon. I was not going to office that day, both my mind and body needed to recover from last night. It was a pleasant day, I was feeling light, the crying worked, I guessed. Everything was having a sympathy for me that day, nature wanted me to recover and heal. I was away from my laptop and mobile the whole day. I was with my mother, she knew I was going through something tough, but she knew I will deal with it. Weather was great, no bright sun, pleasant cloudy weather. I went for a walk, life slowed down for me. I saw two guys holding hands while walking, it did not depress me, it in fact brightened me as I thought, someone soon, is going to come for me and with that thought in my mind, I smiled after long.

During late evening, I decided to check up with what went on in the office. I took up my mobile and saw 34 missed calls from an unknown number and 3 from Arijit, my colleague. I grew impatient.

With tension building up, I called Arijit to know what happened. He told me that a guy came up in office today looking for me and he asked for my mobile number and that he gave it to him. With my voice shaking from an unknown fear, I mumbled, “Was his name, Amit?”. He replied, “Yes, exactly!”. I felt weak at my knees. “Did Amit understand my feelings for him from the letter?”, my heart hoped. I thanked Arijit for the information and cut the call.

After smiling for few minutes, without any introspection and procrastination, I decided to call on the unknown number. Someone picked up the call with a heavy manly voice, I recognized him, it was him, Amit. “Kha tha tu, chotu” (Where were you, kiddo?), he spoke clearing his throat, it seemed that he cried too. I asked him if he was crying and he replied, “mera chotu royega toh mai kaise nhi rounga?” (How will I not cry knowing that you cried?). A tear dropped, as I asked him how did he know I cried. He answered that he saw me crying from the same window from where he used to see me in our childhood days, on his engagement day.

Hearing the word engagement, I was slapped by reality, I asked him how did it go. And he told me, “It never happened, I broke it”. “Why?”, I blurted out. “Kisi aur se pyaar karte hue mai kisi aur se shaadi kaise karta, Papa ne maara zaroor, par maaf kar denge, jaanta hun unhe” (How can I marry someone else, when I love someone else, though my father hit me a lot, but I know he will forgive me, I know him), he replied. I could not believe in this moment; did he mean he loved me? I asked, knowing the answer, “Who do you love?”. “I love mera chotu nangu Rohit” (I love my naked kiddo Rohit), he spoke with an innocence that I thought did not exist in the cynical world I lived in.

Birds chirped, as I soaked in this special moment into each and every cell of my body. I replied, “Me too”. I felt like the whole Universe loved me. I felt embraced and accepted by him and the world. We decided to meet the coming day in the same attire we met on that rainy day. I blushed.

In the balcony next day, I stood in my skimpy underwear and vest waiting for him and the rain in the evening. I heard a whistle, I looked at the small window from where he used to see me. He gestured me to come in there. I went there and he showed me how since childhood, he saw me at my Balcony.

I stood there for long, seeing my own Balcony and how beautiful it looked from there. I kissed him on his beautiful lips. I felt complete and no inhibitions stood between us now. I felt like he belonged to me and I was his part.

He took me to his roof from where we could view my Balcony and made love. He made a small tent using a saree on the roof and as we made love inside it, nature celebrated for us by pouring rain on us again.

We were both naked on the roof, it was late evening and rain was at its peak. Both of us were drenched in rainwater and love, as we viewed the Balcony and imagined our childhood. I smelled him, looked into his eyes and wanted to ask him; how will we live together?, will we run away because our families would not accept us together?, will we able to sustain ourselves together?, are we doing the right thing?, should we always remain hidden and closeted? I guess he heard all those questions and put his hand on my cheek and answered me with his contagious and peaceful smile, “Everything will work out”. And I believed in him and felt at peace.

I felt so warm amidst of cold rain falling on us as he embraced me in his left arm and cupped my genitals with the right. Laying over his strong muscular body, feeling warm, I looked at the sky as it provided us with the roof that I always dreamt of having with my mate. As I closed my eyes, I felt his arms and his body again for one more time before sleeping. And I did not dream, as I was living it.

 

About the guest author

Rohit

Rohit is an architect by profession and explores how spaces and environment become metaphor for our inner feelings. Loves to express his deepest emotions and finds peace in sharing his wisdom.
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