This post Y for Yaara is written as part of #AtoZChallenge: Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. During the whole month of April, I am attempting a novella on the life of a film superstar Akhil Kumar who lost his memory, helped by a college student half his way as he time travels to the past to redeem his identity. It’s a thriller with the adage, Leave your brains somewhere’ to enjoy the story.
I am making today’s post as AC (Adult Content) for its sassy and sensual encounter.
Yaara (यार) is a Hindi word.
Meaning: sweetheart, paramour, mate, friend, chum, companion, and beloved.
I am fighting my tears in the home library, neatly packing my books and belongings to leave for United States. Staying in Mumbai will make me constantly live in the memory of Akhil. How I wish I could give him the pen drive? He chose to leave for the departed world! I didn’t realize when I have fallen in love with him… Oh! Yaara! We are not destined to be together but shall be united by the universe in the afterlife.
I stand in front of his picture perched on the wall. I sense a shadow behind me. I slowly turn around and am flabbergasted to see him. Am I dreaming? Oh! Yaara! Is this you?
I run and hug him, kissing his cheek, forehead, and hand. He looks like a statue, “Maya! I have come to say goodbye. How you help me in retrieving my memory and been with me through thick and thin?” he says.
“Goodbye! It’s too painful. Why did you come back, Yaara? At least, you should’ve been dead to me as well and not just to the world!”
“I am in love with you, Akhil,” I cry my lung out.
“Maya!!” he says. “It cannot happen between us. I am in my mid-30s and you are 18.” I push him away, “It doesn’t mean that I don’t have the right to be in love. You have no right to tell me that I cannot love you. In my heart, it’s been only you. You may be the biggest star to the world but not to me. You are my Yaara. I will not let you go, ever. Once you’ve left me, I will not let it happen this time. Kiss me once,” I insist.
He hesitates for a minute. “Stop thinking too much. Leave it to the world.”
I lie down on the bed, undo the strap of my blouse and close my eyes. He caresses my hand, strokes my lip with his chin and kisses my neck passionately. His hands cup my face, lips tangle together, tongues swirling and intertwining to heavenly bliss. I am longing that he makes love to my soul. I caress his bare chest and his hand slowly moves up from my thigh, cupping my breast with the palm of his hand and running down his fingers on my flab. I invite him inside me. Today, I feel like a complete woman. Love has no age. Our souls are becoming one and we are one whole body in the universe. The emotion of the heart has no place for ego.
We lie down together. “Yaara,” I say. He tweaks his eyes, looking intensely inside my soul. “Don’t leave and go,” I almost plead.
He gently holds my face with his hand. “I have a new identity. Love is not about possessing each other but setting us free.” I wipe the single tear. I want to tell you something. “You know Bhai Saab was the vilest person on earth and can’t tell how happy I am that you finished him. He made the life of my mother hell where I witnessed his ruthlessness every single day,” I confess.
Akhil suddenly became jittery, “How does your mom know Bhai Saab?” There is no point in hiding the truth and I blankly say, “He was my Dad. We witnessed his atrocity every single day.”
He twitches his left eyes, “Life is strange, isn’t it.” We kiss each other a final time. As he dresses and walking out, I grab his hand, “A small gift for you, Akhil” as I slip the pen drive inside the palm of his hand.