Romance My Experience with Love

[avsji]

When I entered high-college, my coursework as well as my friend-circle grew, mother reminded me that an average child did not nurse anymore nor was naked at home. She added that although she did not mind and I could be as I pleased at home, she wanted me to know that we should be discreet about it. Many people would not understand. I was okay with that. I still nursed from her when I used to come back from college. In fact, it was nice to get home from college, get naked and wait for mother to unbutton her blouse. Sometimes, she would come to tuck me in the bed and would breastfeed me until I fell asleep. This she particularly used to do during the exam time. I used to be so much peaceful that I always performed great in the exams. I was already taller than her when I reached the tenth standard. By then, there was no milk. But I continued. I think I simply loved the feeling of my mother’s nipples in my mouth and her skin against my lips. I do not know how she felt, but she never stopped me from doing it. Yes, staying naked at home almost stopped by that time.

It seems pretty average these days for kids to have some sort of ‘romantic’ relationship even in their early teens. I recently joked with my wife about it. We were in a shopping mall when I noticed a barely teen couple holding hands and acting romantic. I am sure they had no idea what it is all about or whether they are attracted to each other to begin with. At least, I scored a nil on both counts, which brings me back to the story.

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Before college, I never thought about making any kind of relationship with the opposite sex. It was not until late in the college days when I was able to develop some kind of relationship with one of my classmates. Her name was Rachna. She was a girl with brain… and breasts! It was surprising for me that she had such a nicely developed pair at that age! For a long time, I assumed that breast size was a function of age. We now know that good food and healthy lifestyle can contribute to this end. She told me later on that she did not have a pair of breasts any different from the other girls. It was only that she did not confine them.

Rachna was a new girl in the college. Her father and my father were in the same department and her family was recently transferred to this town. As I explained earlier, she had to join my college. When I first saw her, I was intrigued by how beautiful she looked, and I wanted to befriend her. It was audacious thing for me to do, as I had no experience in that matter. To make it worse, I had absolutely no idea of how to talk properly to girls. My interaction with people my age was mostly with boys, and with adults was usually limited to them asking about studies, and occasionally asking me questions from syllabus. That was it. So, I had no conversational skills to speak of.

With that kind of handicap, such dreams are not fulfilled. You need something beyond handicap and skills. You need divine intervention. I was good at studies, in fact, very good. One day, the class teacher, who also happened to be our Hindi (Literature, Grammar, Poetry and Sanskrit) teacher, made study groups of - mind it – two students, so that we can revise question-answers with each other. Rachna, fortunately, was paired with me. Such luck! So, we were discussing and occasionally talking too.

At one time I said with frustration,

"Yeh lang lakaar nahi, lund lakaar hai.." (It is not Lang Lakaar, it is Lund Lakaar)

[Lakaars are tenses in Sanskrit, and lang lakaar is the past tense]

All I wanted to do was to corrupt how the word was written and pronounced. It was an innocent thing to do, and I really did not know what the new word meant. First off, Rachna could not believe what I said. I was considered to be a sincere and decent person. I was known to have never uttered even a single slang. Of course, she was surprised, or even shocked. When she finally overcame the initial shock, she said,

"No Amar, we don’t talk like that."

"Why? What happened?"

"Don’t you know its meaning?"

"Whose meaning?"

"The word… what you just said."

"The word? You mean lund?"

"Yes - that. And don’t speak it loudly."

"Okay… but I don’t know what it means. Should it mean anything?" I was confused.

Later, during the lunch she told me its meaning. I was surprised that a penis could have such a name. She laughed when I told her that the only word that I knew for penis was chhunni. She enlightened me by telling me that chhunni is something that only boys have. Girls do not have chhunnis. She also told me that for older boys and men chhunnis are called lund. It is nothing but a chhunni that can grow and erect. Fascinating piece of information, isn’t it? She further asked me whether it grew like she explained. I confirmed that it sometimes did, and asked her not to tell anyone. She told me that it was a good thing because that is what it is supposed to do, and there was nothing to be ashamed of. She also told me that it meant that I was transforming into a man.

That was when I gathered the courage to ask her about her breasts. I must confess that I have always had a fascination with breasts (which man is not?). Breasts of any size catch my attention; always have and still do. One aspect of breasts that arouses my interest is when they produce milk. Rachna told me that they were the most useless parts of her body - everyone seemed to stare at them; they are difficult to manage; she could not run because they would jiggle, wobble and ache; and yes, they were very sensitive. Clearly, she was upset to discuss her breasts, so I did not press the matter further.

In those days, it was uncommon for girls to visit boys’ homes. However, our mothers had become very good friends, because as I told you earlier too that our fathers were in the same department. Since, in the classroom, Rachna and I were study partners, so it was logically okay for our parents to allow us to continue the arrangement at home too. So, both Rachna and I used to go to each other for combined studies. Rachna was more frequent visitor to my house because she loved my mother’s cooking and would not miss any opportunity to relish them.