Saturday, September 29, 2012

I'm Just Talking About Tonight

The drugs did not seem to be doing their job. I felt restless, mad, murderous, even. The anguish was ripping my insides out.

I glanced at the toolbar on my laptop.

1:17 am

The wild party that many of my friends had invited me to had already started three hours ago. And, I was still indecisive.

I shook my head and almost threw away the laptop as I sprinted towards my closet. A little black dress fell on my face from my overcrowded, unorganized wardrobe. It seemed to be a sign, though I had stopped believing in signs since long.

I slipped into the pretty little black dress, always termed as a ‘wardrobe essential’ by every girlie magazine.

Kohl for my eyes plus a little gloss for my pout was all I needed and I was ready, clicking the heels of my shiny new black stilettoes as I walked.

I drove rashly, scaring the shit out of the poor, cold, homeless people as I zoomed past them.

I entered the party and, boy, was it hot! The air conditioners were on full swing despite the cold winter night. The hot, drugged, dancing bodies made them necessary.

I looked ‘hot’ and I knew it. Several, actually, more than several approving male heads and jealous female heads, turned to look my way as I went past. I did not spare them more than a cursory glance and a fake smile.

What was I even looking for?
Not love, definitely.
Friendship? I had had my share of true as well as backstabbing friends. I could not afford to take more chances.

“Mistie!” someone called out, recognizing me.

“Krish!” I nodded, acknowledging his presence.

“Dance?” he asked and pulled me close to himself.

He was the kind of guy that any girl would be attracted to. I was too. And, the drugs I had taken a couple of hours ago now seemed to have finally woken up.

I danced like mad, close to him, closer to his breath. I felt slutty. But he knew me, and I knew him. We were just friends.

It was then I noticed Mohit, standing at the bar with a wine glass in his hand, noticing me. That was the best drug of that night!

He was a celebrity after having won a few modeling contests all over the country.

He smiled at me. Smirking, I turned towards Krish, put my arms around him and danced for a few more minutes before finally leaving him and strolling towards the bar.

Mohit’s eyes were still on me. It made me feel exuberant.

“Buy me a drink, Mr. hot-shot model!” I drawled, lightly touching his left hand with my right my index finger. I felt him shudder beneath my touch. It made me feel powerful.

“No, no! I don’t drink alcohol, silly!” I said, pushing away the vodka he had offered me with a smile.

That seemed to startle him.

“I seriously don’t.” I smiled genuinely. “A Fanta, please.” I giggled to the bartender.

“Why are you high, then?” he whispered into my ear and it was my turn to shiver.

“Drugs.” I breathed into his ear, my lips brushing against his earlobe.

He gathered me in his arms as I almost fell down, feeling giddy.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking into my face tenderly.

“Would I be on drugs if I were okay?” I rolled my eyes.

It had been a while since I had rolled my eyes. It made me laugh out loud as I realized how fake, how very unlike me I had become.

“You need fresh air.” he suggested and almost dragged me outside.

I lay down on the cobblestone path that meandered in the garden and he sat down next to me.

“Fuck!” I laughed again as I could not stop laughing.

“What?” he asked, curious.

When I did not answer, he started laughing with me or at me, I’ve no idea. Laughter is contagious at times.

He surprised me by bending down and kissing my lips. My mind shut down, my dead heart seemed to beat dully, and, my body took over.

I kissed him back with all the passion, all the madness, all the restlessness, all the pent-up emotions that I had been feeling all night.

I did not remember how we had reached what room, but I did remember the intensity, the wildness, the excitement, the ecstasy, the heat of that cold December night. And, I remember his asking me,

“Why is your body burning?”

“Because I am hot.”

I had answered huskily before shutting his mouth with mine.

We fell asleep God knows when. The sun was almost overhead when my eyes fluttered open. He was still asleep, like the carving of Adonis, partially covered by a white blanket dotted with petite maroon flowers; his arm around my waist, his head on my chest.

I carefully removed myself from under him and tucked the strands of my hair behind my ear. Only then did I realize that I was actually abnormally hot.

Shrugging it off as fever, I got dressed, kissed his cheek just because he looked cute and stealthily left the room.

One of his one-night stands, I said to myself as I drove back home.
It was not as if I had fallen in love with him. But yes, it was the first time I had done something of this sort..

I felt remorse creep over me, not because the night with Mohit had not been beautiful but because I felt I had betrayed my mourning.

Piyush had dumped me, almost six months ago, but I had never been able to get over him. My pain, tears, anguish, bewilderment, listlessness, suicide attempts, depression, prescription drugs, last night, each and every damned thing; he was the reason behind all of it.

I unlocked the door to my lone house in the suburbs and slumped onto my bed. The clouds had taken over again- the sky as well as my mind.

I changed into a cotton nightie and stood in the now dark, misty balcony, looking over the vast empty meadows, letting the chill pierce my body and soul.

It was my comforter. Yes, I liked the cold. I always had.

It’s always there when the warmth betrays you.

I closed my eyes and slipped back into oblivion, back into the numbness that protected me from the warmth.