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Subject: {ASSM} REPOST: Unforgettable Times: Part-2 <*>
Date: Thu,  9 Aug 2001 09:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "unforget2.txt" begin>


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Swagato


CAUTION : THE COMPLETE WORK (PART-1 to PART-4) IS COPYRIGHTED BY
THE AUTHOR. REPRODUCTION OF ANY PORTION OF THIS WORK FOR PUBLIC
DISTRIBUTION IN PRINTED FORM OR THROUGH INTERNET OR
COMMERCIALISATION IN ANY FORM IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

*********************************Unforgettable times :
Part-2****************************************

I can hardly consider myself to be a singer in true sense. I love
singing since my early childhood and took part in various
cultural programmes of my school, but never seriously continued
any formal training. I did only for a brief period, but during
adolescence, when my voice changed, I was forced to discontinue.
By the time my voice stabilised to an adult one, academic
pressures came on the way and I could never pursue any musical
diploma. Before Keka-di's  mentioning of "singer's voice" in me,
I didn't ever bother to think if I really have one.

"Keka-di, I am only good at humming - nothing beyond that." I
told her with a sense of modesty.

"Okay. I'll try to get a feel of your humming in the next couple
of days." she told me with a naughty smile.

"Usually those are only in the bathroom..." was my answer. I was
trying to indicate that she won't get any  access there.

It was time to depart. The girls had to proceed to the hostel as
they were putting up with Sonali. Chandan  had to go home and
myself and Abhirup had to proceed to his Dadu-Dida's house.

"See you in the morning then ? " I reminded Keka-di.

"Aschhen bolle bolbo asbonaa." was her short cryptic reply.

I was so long using a formal way of addressing her. Normally, we
do that way when we talk to someone elder  or persons with brief
acquaintances, but she wanted me to talk with her in a more
informal way.


"Taahale boli esho" I said,  quickly narrowing the level of
formality. It surely helped in feeling more intimate, though we
were hardly intimate till then.

Locating the route back home wasn't a problem. There was
moonlight all around to guide us . Moonlight in that evening was
more powerful than any floodlight.

*****

After the supper, Abhirup and I came to our room. I was thinking
of the evening I spent with Keka-di. Her looks, her figure, her
smile - all so attractive. My heart was pumping rapidly as I
thought about her. "Am  I in love ?" I asked myself. At the very
next moment, my inner self tried to caution me, "Swagato, accept
the reality. Come to your senses. You can not be in love with
her, she is elder to you by at least three years and the society
will never legitimise your love." But how do I avoid thinking of
her ? At least not during this lovely night.

Isn't she too thinking of me ? "Forget it, "I said to myself. Who
am I afterall ? She must be in love with  someone already, I
guessed. But then, why did she take interests in my singing
abilities ? Maybe, it was just a casual talk and I was foolish
enough  to attach any special importance to it.

"Ei Abhirup ! Gaaner kotha-ta keno bollo re ?" I was keen to
share my inner debate with my dear friend.

"Must have sensed your singing abilities from your voice, even
though you didn't admit it directly ."

Abhirup paused slightly and continued, "She was next to you with
Baitalik."

"Hmmm..." I was finding it difficult to share anything with
Abhirup, as my heart was beating like a drum -  a sound that I
could hear myself very clearly.

"You liked her ? Didn't you ?" Abhirup was trying to dig out my
inner feelings.

"Forget it. Tell me how you liked Papiya ...Nice ? Isn't she ?" I
just tried to put the ball on the other court.

"Oh, Papiya ? I don't think I have any reason to feel anything
special. But, Swagato, something is going on within you."

This time, I couldn't deny my inner turmoil  before my friend.
"Think of the barriers Abhirup - she is elder to me.. .."

"Swagato,  love may not accept these  reasons. You are in love,
my friend."

"Naa naa - tui chup kor to !"  I hurriedly terminated the topic.

Abhirup was tired. So was I. Both of us woke up so early in the
morning. Abhirup fell asleep soon. Normally, I too would have by
then, but I couldn't. I was again thinking about Keka-di.
Tomorrow is holi. Won't I play smearing of colours with her ? I
must. How am I going to touch her for the first time tomorrow ?
The very imagination of it brought a different feeling in me. So
long it was only a feeling of love and now, I got an erotic
sensation. I tried to imagine  myself touching Keka-di, applying
abeer (coloured powders) on her face, her hair, her neck. My male
organ wasn't remaining under my control any more. It was steadily
growing with every details of my imagination of her body and my
touch. And since,  everything was just an imagination, at least
for that night, there was no barrier in bringing my imaginary  
palm, coloured with red powders, further down on her body. My
manhood grew to a size, which wasn't known  to me ever before.

I was finding it difficult to sleep. Fragrance of Spring flowers
which bloom during the night time, was sweeping across the room.
It smelled like some sweet perfume sprayed on her body. I
couldn't keep aside my  feelings of love. I wanted to live with
it for the rest of the night.

Abhirup was fast asleep. We had switched off the lights long time
back. The moonlight was illuminating a portion of the room and
there was hardly any darkness. I looked at the desk in the corner
and on top of it,  there was a bookshelf. It contained a
collection of some books on paintings. Presumably, all these
belong  to Abhirup's Dadu.  Honestly, I am completely ignorant 
about paintings, but just took one of those books  if that could
help me to sleep.

The book had a collection of Roman paintings, most of which were
very much erotic in nature. The one in which I stumbled upon was
the painting of a nude female lying down,  hiding her pubic area
with her hands.   I remember that during my early adolescence, I
got turned on by a similar nude painting that appeared in
"Reader's Digest" magazine. There was a hidden place in my
drawer, where I used to keep that particular  issue of "Readers
Digest" and look at it secretly, whenever I wished. Sexual
tensions were already running high in me and this particular nude
painting excited me further, as I imagined a striking resemblance
with Keka-di's face.

I was eager to get a detailed look at the painting. The diffused
moonlight in the room was perhaps a bit too insufficient for
that. I didn't feel like switching on the light, lest it disturbs
Abhirup's sleep. I rather opted for a more direct moonlight and
walked out of the room to the adjacent balcony, from where I had
looked at the rural beauty earlier in the day.

I sat down on the floor of the balcony with the page opened on my
lap. It was clearly visible now in the direct moonlight. From a
distance, I could  hear a Tagore song being played by someone on
the gramophone record :

"Tomaar aroopa moorthi khaani----
Phaalgunero aalote basaai aani, aroopa moorthi khaani---
Bnaashori baajaai lalita basante, sudooro digante---
Bnaashori baajaai lalita basante, sudooro digante."

With the painting  still lying open on my lap, these wordings
were quite appropriate for me at that moment. 

I was imagining Keka-di with her totality, fantasizing an
intimacy and closeness with her body. I imagined  my hard prick
making entry into something soft and wet of hers, although the
real feeling of softness and  wetness was unknown me. With the
rhythm of the song fading away, I imagined yet another rhythm - a
rhythm  that is the origin of any new life creation on this
globe. Now I couldn't bear my hardness any more. I rushed to the
bathroom and used my hands, emulating the in and out movements
within Keka-di, in imagination. All the hot, white, thick fluid
within me gushed out, more than ever before. I started humming
the tune within me:

"Aami tomaaro sange bnedhechhi aamaaro praan, surero bnaadhone
Tumi jaano nai"

 To tell my lover -"you don't know that I am in love with you."

I came back to the room. Abhirup's radium illuminated wristwatch
dial showed 2:30 PM in the night. I lay down beside Abhirup,
still thinking of Keka-di. I don't know when I finally slept.

**************

I couldn't sleep for long. The room where we stayed had its
windows on the eastern side and through that, the early morning
sun made its way in. The erotic thoughts of last night was still
having its effects on me. I thought of of having another round of
........, but on second thoughts, I decided to keep it for later,
maybe with some added imaginations and fantasies.

The cultural event associated with the beginning of Vasantotsav
starts early in the morning. I finished my  morning rituals quite
early and put on a much worn, old set of pajama and kurta, since
the colours of holi would spoil my dresses anyway. I then called
Abhirup, who was still enjoying his sleep. Chandan came to us on
time and took us to Amrakunja, a grove of mango trees, where the
event was to take place.

By the time we reached there, streams of humanity had already
assembled there. More people must have flocked in to
Shantiniketan since last evening and it was impossible to watch
anything from the position which we got. Chandan being a local
boy, then managed to get a better position for us. Just within a
day, I felt Shantiniketan had lost its peaceful surroundings, as
the visitors were making noise in their own way. Sonali, Papiya
and Keka-di too were  supposed to assemble there, but in this
vast ocean of humanity, it was impossible to locate where they
were.

Dressed in clothes dyed yellow specially for the festival, girls
and boys, young men and women came in a procession, singing and
dancing, flowers streaming about them, their bare feet raising
small clouds of red  dust on the gravel path, leading them into
amrakunja.

"O re grihabaasee, khol dwaar khol laaglo je dol
sthale jale banatale laaglo je dol dwaar khol, dwaar khol"

I knew this song, one of the best depictions of the festival of
colours since my childhood, but on this morning, everything
seemed to mean differently, and I had never quite seen the
spontaneity in dance as I saw it then. Between their paces, the
dancers  scattered handfuls of the "abeer" (colour powder) all
around, inviting all to join them. It was simply fabulous. A
brief cultural event followed this colourful start.

Holi in Shantiniketan is much different from the holi in rest of
India. People don't start applying colours on each other, till
the cultural programme in Amrakuja is over. Another
characteristic, which I really liked was the use of dry "abeer"
only, unlike other parts of India, where people use  water
abundantly. In those days, we didn't  have the nasty sticky
colours of today, which irritates the skin and gives one the
appearance of a joker.

Three of us walked back to Abhirup's grandparents' house. The
three girls had arrived  there, a few minutes ahead of us. I
could see Keka-di from the gate, as all of them were sitting on
the open space in front. The moment I looked at Keka-di's eyes,
the drum-beating of my heart reappeared. I felt like rushing  to
her , turn her lovely face red with colours, but had to realize
the constraints of reality.

"Where were you guys ? We couldn't locate you out there." asked
Sonali.

"Janasamudre haariye giyechhilam."(Lost in humanity) was
Abhirup's reply. He always uses choicest Bengali words and
expressions. No wonder, he always used to take at least 10 marks'
lead over me in our first language.

All six of us sought the blessings of the elders, that is Dadu
and Dida, by putting "abeer" on their feet as our "pronam"(a
gesture of respects to the elders) and then it was our time to
play with the colours.

Sonali and Papiya were easily accessible. So they were our first
targets of colour play. I don't know why I didn't see Keka-di,
while three of us were busy in applying abeer on their forehead
and cheeks.  While I  was doing that, someone came from behind
and coloured me all over my face and there was a bout of
laughter.

"Keka-di ! Tumi ? Dnaaraao, dekhachchhi majaa !!!" I shouted and
immediately wanted to make her my target in revenge of her acts,
which caught me unawares.

As soon as I turned back, Keka-di ran away to the garden. I ran
faster than her and grabbed her.

"Paalaale cholbe ? Aaj sabaar range rang meshaate hobe ..." I
said, quoting the last sentence from a Tagore song.

"There's no use in being poetic. You couldn't even sing a song
yesterday." she answered with a tone of complaint.

Now, Keka-di was within my grips. Without wasting time, I put as
much of "abeer" as my palm could accommodate and applied it all
over her hair, forehead and cheeks. The pretty face of hers
turned colourful, well beyond recognition, in no time. The touch
brought a new sensation within me. Her cheeks were much softer
than what I had imagined last night. I wish I could take my own 
time to colour her, but   I was forced to do everything in a
hurry, as Keka-di was trying to flee again. I also put colours on
her  neck, upto the border of her blouse, knowing fully well that
the border was my limit. I had indeed gone well beyond those
borders in my fantasies last night, but now, I couldn't ignore
the borders of reality.

In the meantime, Chandan and Abhirup had finished colouring the
other two girls and came running to Keka-di. She tried to run
away again, with a shrill noise of screaming. I tightly gripped
her upper arms from behind, allowing Chandan and Abhirup to
colour her.

"Ei please .... please beshi naa -" she pleaded before them to
restrict their extent of colouring. At least Chandan was in no
mood to listen to her plea and Keka-di tried to escape from my
grip. In that process, something happened unintentionally. My
fingers got pressed against her blouse and when I realized  that
my fingers  were feeling the softness of her right breast, my
male organ started stiffening and throbbing then and there ! The
soft feeling was just incredible. Being embarrassed of my
erection, I immediately loosened my grip and allowed Keka-di to
run.  Abhirup and Chandan had already smeared colours on her, as
much as they could in such a short time. I simply escaped from
the scene, before the prominent bulge in my pajama was noticeable
to anybody. Thank God, I managed to hide quickly and successfully
!

"Swagato, Dida is calling you. She is ready with a plate  of
sweets." Abhirup called me, as I was alone in  a corner of the
garden. By then, the heat within me had somewhat subsided, but
still the drum-beating of the heart was on.

"Wow ! I'll be there." I answered.

"Ekaa ekaa ki korchhili ?" Abhirup was quite curious to know why
I was out of the group.

"Just enjoying these flowers." I said.

"Enjoy flowers later. Won't you talk to her ?"  Abhirup was
naughty enough to give me yet another hint.

"Shut up !" I said, apparently expressing my annoyance on the
face of it, but within myself, I enjoyed what he said.

Offering sweets to others is a part of holi culture in India.
Dida had prepared some  "maalpoaa" (a special kind of sweet) and
still a few were remaining for me. While taking the sweets,  each
one of us must have taken a fair dose of coloured powders with
it.

"So you escaped before we could apply colours on you ? It's now
our turn" said Sonali and Papiya. Although  I applied colours on
them, the reverse couldn't take place, before I was "attacked" by
Keka-di. In no time, I was "womanhandled" by them. There was so
much of fun in it. I leave it to the imagination of the readers.

Six of us chatted for some time together. Unlike yesterday,
today, there was no boy-girl groupism. All six  of us together
formed a group. Whenever I was having a direct eye-contact with
Keka-di, my entire mind was getting filled up with a sense of
deep love and passion. I wanted to keep that wonderful feeling
entirely within me and was conscious that none other than me
should get  slightest indication of it. Not even Abhirup.

After some time, we had to depart. Chandan had invited me and
Abhirup for a lunch in their house. We hadn't been to his house
since we came here and by inviting us for lunch, he ensured that
we don't just make a hurried visit or  a  mere courtesey call to
their house. The girls proceeded to the girls' hostel. We planned
to meet again in the evening during the open-air cultural event.

In Chandan's house we had yet another round of colour play. This
time it was with Chandan's elder brothers. With so much of
heterogeneous   combinations of red, pink, purple and green
colours all over our  faces and dresses, we had to take our
shower before taking the lunch. Usually, the lunch on a holi day
is  taken quite late, as the showering and removal of colours  is
a very time consuming process for those who  take part in the
festival.

I was not being able to forget the arousal which I had during the
accidental touch of her breast's softness in the morning. It was
making me hot again, when I thought about it while taking my
showers. I was fantasizing Keka-di in her showers. In my
imagination, she removed her colour-stained clothes slowly, one
after the other and came nude under the shower. The colured water
streams from her forehead, cheeks and chin  went on flowing past
her breasts and trickled through the bushes between her legs.
"Shall I help you with your bath ?" I asked her in imagination.
My hardness was becoming unbearable. I was massaging my manhood
in a rhythmic way. Pre-cum was  already oozing out and as my
rhythm and imaginations intensified further, jets of cum shot out
in projectile paths. I increased the flow of water in the shower
so that everything could get washed away, along with all the
colours, some of which were applied by Keka-di.  "Keka-di ! I
love you so much. So much !" I cried out in the peak of my
fantasy.

After  a nice lunch and afternoon time with Chandan's parents and
brothers, it was time to go for the cultural program in the
evening. I was eager to see Keka-di again, be with her again.
Once again the drum-beating of heart started within me. Would I
sit close to her, perhaps a bit too close to smell the sweet
perfume which she used last evening ? When we reached the
open-air venue of the cultural programme, we found that Sonali,
Papiya and Keka-di had already taken their seats on the rugs laid
on the ground. They had kept some space for us, where three of us
managed to seat. There was an exchange of smile and "hello"
between us and them, but no special interaction between myself
and Keka-di, which I had expected so fondly. The exhuberance,
which I had seen in her in the last evening, was missing. Is it
because she was displeased with me for any reason ? But then,
what could be the reason ? Didn't she like the way I coloured her
? Is it that she  misunderstood my purely unintentional touch ?
If that is the case, how would I tell Keka-di that I was innocent
? These thoughts made me tense and in the end, I was unable to
enjoy the dance-drama, which featured in the cultural programme
of the evening.  


All six of us were strolling together after the programme.
Chandan, Papiya, Abhirup and Sonali were doing most of the
talking. It was full moon tonight, but pieces of scattered clouds
had occluded the lovely moon  from our view.

"Megh-ta shore jachchhe, dyakho"  Keka-di told me as the cloud
was uncovering the moon gradually. In no time, Shantiniketan was
flooded with moonlight.

"Doesn't it look fabulous ?" she asked.
I could see a smile on her face. I remembered Tagore's famous
song:

"Chnaader haasir bnaadh bhengechhe "

and felt that along with Keka-di, full moon too was smiling with
its flooded light. All the tensions that engulfed my mind so
long, faded away with the passing clouds.

We decided to have a cup of tea at a tea-stall before proceeding
to our respective places. We started discussing about the
cultural programme of the evening.

I was impressed with Keka-di's knowledge about Tagore's
literature and discovered that she was up-to-date with the
cultural life of Kolkata. Her interests were not restricted to
Tagore songs and dance-dramas alone. We talked of Bengali film
"Jana Aranya" of Satyajit Ray, the contemporary Hindi films
"Anand", "Aradhana", sensational dramas of Utpal Dutta, songs of
Hemanta, Manna Dey, Kishore Kumar, Rafi, Mukesh, Lata, Asha ,
melodius tunes of Salil Choudhury and RD Burman in contemporary
Hindi films, acting talents of Amitabh-Sharmila etc. Really
speaking, we were passing through a golden era of Indian films
and culture  in those days.

"Don't you know Swagato sings Manna Dey's songs so nicely !"
Abhirup told Keka-di in a low voice. He thought his words
wouldn't reach my ears.

"Abhirup ! Toke maarbo !" I was about to blow a punch at Abhirup
for this loose comment.

"I won't leave Shantiniketan before listening to Swagato's songs"
added Keka-di.

I just tried to to divert the discussion topic.

"Keka-di, which football team do you support - East Bengal or
Mohun Bagan ?" I asked.


Keka-di said, "Look, I was talking about songs and you are
telling about football ! Isn't it like the dialogue in "Janaya
Aranya" film where a stranger on the road, who was returning from
the football ground was asked if he was a Pass or an Honours
graduate and he answered - Mohun Bagan, without listening to the
question."

There was a roll of laughter.I really liked the sense of humour
in Keka-di.

Tea stall is always a good place for a friendly chat in Bengal
and we didn't realize how quickly the time went by. From
literature to  films, cricket, football rivalry  - we discussed
everything and we could feel  a kind of closeness within the
group. A chat in Bengal is never complete without discussing
politics, but  we didn't. The painful memories of our worst-ever
political turmoils were still vivid in our eyes.

It was time to depart.


"What's our plans for tomorrow ?" I threw this question open to
the group.

"Good question. Can't we go out somewhere ? I mean somewhere
outside this Visva Bharati campus." Keka-di proposed.

We all looked at Chandan with the expectation that he would be
our local guide.

"Oh no, I'm just sorry. Tomorrow, I will be busy with  a family 
get together. Would you just excuse me ?"  he said, expressing
his inability. Our next choice of local guide was Sonali, since
she was a student of Visva Bharati.

"Would you like to go upto the banks of Kopai river ? I think it
will be nice." Sonali suggested.

We all liked the idea. The choice of place wasn't that important.
More important was to spend some more time together and I was
particularly interested to know Keka-di more.

"Okay, we will be at your place by 9 o'clock in the morning. Get
ready by then." said Sonali.

"For a change,  can't we go to the ladies hostel ?" I asked.

"You can, but don't blame me if you get a solid beating from the
inmates" Sonali said with a giggle.

"You mean "womanhandling" ? That's not too bad - I had a feel of
that in the morning."

"It would be much worse than that, I'm afraid."  Sonali
cautioned.

We  departed for our respective places of stay.

****
The full moon was looking more beautiful than what it was last
night.  Abhirup and I were sitting on the floor in the balcony.

"Swagato,  how do you feel  ?" asked Abhirup.

"Really really nice Abhirup. I wish I could stay here for ever."
I wanted to express my inner feelings to my dear friend. Perhaps
the inner self in me wanted to add "with Keka-di" in the sentence
I uttered, but I  still maintained the secrecy of my dreams. A
feeling of joy and mental bliss was sweeping my mind. At that
moment, the whole world was looking beautiful in my eyes. I was
humming one of my favourite Tagore songs depicting love in
romantic Spring.

"A bit of your touch
 A bit of your words
 And with that I compose my own romantic Spring."

are the essence of the wordings of the songs that I sang in
Bengali :

 "Ektuku chhnoa laage, ektuku kathaa shuni,
Taai niye mone mone rachi mamo phaalguni"

"Ektu galaa khule gaan kor  -" Abhirup told me to sing aloud.

I was afraid that Abhirup might ask me again about Keka-di.
Although he was my best friend, I was in no mood to share my
inner feelings with him. I wanted to keep all my thoughts very
personal. Perhaps Abhirup too sensed it and kept his curiosity
within.

When I came to the bed, one by one I thought about the every
detailed happenings of the day. What a day it  was ! My first
touch, applying colours on her face, the soft feelings of her
breasts which came so suddenly to me, the fantasy  of her bath
and finally, the nice time together in the evening. I was feeling
 the pinch of my hardness again. This time, I was in no mood to
rush to the bathroom and release it instantly. I just softly
massaged my male organ through the fabric of my pajama. I
imagined her touch there and it stiffened me more. It formed a
tent with no sign of subsiding. I looked at Abhirup. He was fast
asleep. So, I wasn't embarrassed anymore. With more and more
erotic thoughts engulfing my mind, I wanted to live with my heat
and stiffness  for a long, long time. A visit to the bathroom and
the release was inevitable at the end. Then only I had a nice,
sound sleep.

**************End of Part-2.
*********************************************
















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