F for Flamboyant lovers

The post F for Flamboyant Lovers on Day 6 is written as part of http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/  'Blogging from A to Z April (2015) Challenge.


We were crazy lovers. Ah! The ones who kiss passionately in public, stealing glances and cuddling affectionately to scare the crowd off the road. They called us flamboyant lovers. It was the 70s in what was called Bombay. We wouldn't give a damn to the conservative moral guardians, looking down on us and their eyes threatening us, "You are spoiling our culture. Have some shame!"

We loved shaming them. It gave us pleasure. She would dress in short skirts, dragging me towards her lips and smooching. We would yell in the bus and freak out when she saw a cockroach beneath her feet. She would freak out and clutch to me. It gave me a thrill and we yelled together not once but thrice to scare off commuters who would turn around and looked at us, aghast. The conductor chided us in Marathi, before throwing us out of the double-decker bus that gave a panoramic view of the city.

We were everything that young lovers were not. We did everything in the open, swearing, taking long drag of cigarette and getting intimate on the bench in an era where our friends would meet clandestinely and pretend to be good kids in front of everyone. We wanted to shock people. After all, life is lived once.

We pranced our way on Marine Drive, swinging from one end to the other. We were high on life and love, gulped a bottle of beer openly on the backseat of the bus which our co-passengers were oblivious of.

Her voice slurred, "You are crazy, my cho chweet punching bag? You not scared of cockroach..why did you yell and distracted the boring passengers out of their slumber...See, because of you we were thrown out of the bus."

I played along, "I shouted because you shouted, Your Highness. You see, I do whatever you do."

"Oho!" She mocked me. "My sweet crazy man. We scared people. We must make a gang."

I surprised her with a peck. "This is what I was thinking. You know, Haji Mastan will be scared of us. The new aspiring don, Dawood, will fear us and we will take over the city."

"We are fearless lovers and we will become Dons in the city. But, what will people call you, Behen."

"Shut up," She gave me a gentle slap. "Obviously, you don't wanna be a bhai to a behen like me."

Nah!We protested. 

It started raining and we were drenched from top-to-toe, holding hands and sprinting to Churchgate station. Finally, we reached her flat and lay on the bed.

I teased her with a feather striking her face, "I am feeling naughty."

"Feel. I cannot stop you from nurturing feelings," She tried to ignore me.

"Let's make love," I teased her.

She suddenly became serious, "Why are you thinking about sex at this time? Let's make love to each other's soul. We are fearless lovers. We don't need to follow the routine route, followed by everyone who pretend to have unflinching moral values yet do the contrary."

We hugged each other. Our soul did the talking.