Personal Narrative-Home

“Have you read?” Anish’s mother crowed with joy at seeing me and Mahima. “He wrote praiseworthy; his diary is incredible.” Mahima flattered. “But…” I remarked. “But…?” Anish’s mother drawled. I smirked and pointed out – “The conclusion is missing in it.”

“That day, he handed me his diaries, and went to the office.” She removed the veil and wiped her tears. “And so he never came back.” She sobbed. Mahima hugged her and wiped tears. “We will publish his work; I am sure the profit will be enough to get you a livelihood.” I promised her.

I bore on her feet; she showered her blessings, bussed my forehead and then I left the place, Mahima followed me. We thanked Mr. Morvekar, owner of the trust and asked his permission to depart. “I will shift Anish’s

Singh shrugged. Mahima and I pressed our lips, looked at each other to hide smiles and got to refresh ourselves.

*****

The dining scene was same, as it took place in Anish’s diary, Mr. Singh praised ladyfingers and asked, “Mohit, I am going Delhi tomorrow for a meeting, if you want you can join me.”

I was fairly certain about next moment, instead of wasting time in asking flight or train. I replied – “By car, right?” I beamed at Mahima; moved my eyebrow up and down thrice. “What… Who goes by car from Mumbai to Delhi?” Mr. Singh seethed. I chocked; Mahima ran and patted by back.

“Have some water.” She held the glass of water and patted again. I have had water and mumbled – “Mr. Kulkarni in Anish’s diary went by car.” She nodded and begins with the dinner. “I knew; you have the problem to travel by flights, so I had booked seats on the train.” Mr. Singh responded and went for walks. I smirked at him.

I and Mahima knew what we induce to do next, she rolled her leg, I repeated the dialogue from Anish’s diary and did everything same as he wrote. After the dinner, both of us joined Mr. Singh for a walk and gossiped till late

“Yes.” “You are playing with me, right?” “No… I am feeling…” She replied in beguiling voice and rolled her tongue along her lips. “Horny.” She added in the same tone.

I lift her in my lap, looked into her eyes and spoke – “Baby I can’t take you to the guest house like this.” She tied me with her hands tightly. “I’ll go only like this. Take me or drop me.” Somehow I hobbled for a few meters and then she pleaded –“My sweetu, bring me down. I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you so much.” I suspired. She grinned, held my hand, kissed the dorsal side of the palm. “Let’s go.” She squeezed my hand and leaned her head on my shoulder while walking.

I dab her cheek with the other hand, then rubbed down her hair; pulled them softly and placed my lips on hers. With the rolling of the tongue on each other’s, we walked and reached the bedroom.

She pushed me to fall on the bed; I gripped her hand and pulled her on me. Her hairs covered my face, the scent of the oil turned me on; I bent her down and unbuttoned her shirt with teeth. She pulled my T-shirt and threw it.

I dipped my tongue in her belly button; she breathed loudly. She pulled me up; I dedicated a love bite on her shoulder. She mewled and her lips brushed my ears. She pulled my face, met my gaze, and gave the best shot of French