When I thought of meeting you, My heart jumped and my trepidation grew
Archive for the category Fiction
Fiction stories and poems by the Gaysi to be read by all.
I share this comfortable space with you, where I don’t need to say anything, you figure it out anyway. Sometimes I rant; sometimes I don’t say a word. And you are always there with your cup of tea.
Like bumping my toe against obstructive wood, I savour the pain, instead of doing as I should. I ache and ache, But I refuse to break
There we were. Sitting in a coffee shop. Talking, sharing and bonding
I knew her inside out like an addictive YouTube video. Intimacy meant 5 Mbps and a great date was a call that didn't drop. When I kissed her, she saw emoticons.
Honestly, what I feel around you, annoys me. I just don’t know what it is! I am hoping it shall fade away soon. Or maybe not.
Let's run away and play on the beach And build sand castles while bathing in sunlight.
All I want is that one person. The over-rated one person. Him, who makes me feel like the half of one.
There was something about her. Something that drew me to her. The way she carried herself. Her smile. Sigh! Her smile is enticing.
It was the first day of the new year and I was on an island on the southernmost tip of the Pearl of the Indian Ocean.
Everyday I think of you and keep wondering if you thought of me…. And if you did – what made you do so.
There is no one word, To explain, There are many sides to us, Those make us one being.
What do I do when an attractive young man sits across me with his legs spread so wide that his thighs and organ strain against the fabric of his jeans?
Salvaged my soul, but the mirror it cracked, And you wonder why I'm always black.
Somewhere deep within… I see you cross your legs and sit right across me I hear you smoke that cigarette I see you fiddle with your hair
If you could see what I see, you would know why I choose to sleep If you could hear what I hear, you would know why the silence If you could feel what I feel, you would know why I am me
No escape thought Yasmin as ‘the lips’ took a deep drag off her cigarette. “Are you leaving already?” asked Bindya. Yasmin barely nodded while she tried to keep her eyes off ‘the lips’.
Now I find, what I thought was just mind and body Is a love that ideally, should be of the soul and spirit too.
Bangalore, the beginning of winter. The days are shorter, the monsoon leaves its last spells of wet love on every roof, tree and head covered with dense hair. A chilly whiff of air reminds people of the need to pull over something warm and cosy and settle in a corner with a mug of hot chocolate with Irish Cream. But my hormones are still saying - let's do it !
A short trimmed blue painted finger Lightly touched a burgundy stained lip… Moving gently up its contour to the left… …up and around to the right…