First Kiss

I was five years old and it was with a seven year old young lad . By a kiss, I do not mean a peck on the cheek. It was a full on smooch with a little bit of tongue in it. I was half raised in a day care centre run by an aunt, whom I call my fairy Godmother. My mother, a hard-working lady, she put me in the crèche when I was a tiny forty days old baby along with my sister who is a good four years elder to me. I still can’t seem to forget that first kiss. We were put to sleep in the afternoon. Who knew that a five year old could have a perverted monster brain and that a seven year old could have a girlfriend? We were close. What more can I say, but give you the details about our kiss. We both pretended to sleep while the Crèche Aunt’s teenage daughter kept a close watch on us. We drew close still pretending to sleep and our lips touched. Then touched more and we drew closer. I think the Aunt’s daughter saw us in action and shouted out my name loudly. We drew apart and I got up pretending to be in sleep and then slept off again. The instant still remains captured in my pixelated brain. I call it pixelated because I tend to think in pixels. You give me a word and several images are put to action in my tiny little head. If you say ‘run’, I might just lose weight running in my head and not only by running my head.


Let us get back to the description of my first ever straight relationship. We even had same design school bags which got exchanged once. When we grew up to be a little older, say I would be seven years old and he would be nine, our talks grew older in proportion and age too. They became grosser. He was the first one to explain what a Bra was. I knew the purpose of a Bra but never asked my Mum what it was called out of sheer shyness. I wonder how he knew so much. He even wore one of them from the ones that were put to dry out side the window and demonstrated the female upright walk to me. I just made a disgusted face and giggled away to Glory. I am sure Glory would have been embarrassed too.

After we left crèche our interaction became zero though both of us were in the same school. The memory of my first kiss irritated me all the time. I pounded upon my nature and thought. “How could I do it?” I used to follow him and his friends with my friends till my fourth grade. He knew and enjoyed the attention. We teased them and gave them stupid names. They reciprocated in much the same way. That is when I was nine years old. After that he passed on to senior school while I still remained a junior. I almost forgot him. When I became a senior in sixth grade, whenever I happened to see him, it was a bit unnerving. We never spoke after that but whenever we saw each other, we exchanged uneasy glances. We pretended as if we had long forgotten each other though we both knew that none of us could forget it ever.


The last conversation that happened between us while we were still in school is when I was in tenth and he was in twelfth grade. He was a prefect and had caught me and best friend entering late after recess. He said in the rudest of tones- “Get back to your classes”

I gave him an annoying stare and left hurriedly. He behaved as if he had never known me. He looked back with such confident indifference.

I grew older and I am sure he had his own experiences in life too. I was in college third year. One weird day, I receive a mail on one of the social networking sites called Hi5.

“Are you the same girl who used to go to crèche with me and was in the same school?”

I just knew right then that he never could forget it too -the kiss. I wrote back and confirmed him that I was the same girl. He wrote back.

“I still remember some beautiful memories that we shared together while in crèche. I am doubtful if you remember them but I shall cherish them forever.”

It was as if he was teasing my uneasy nerve. We exchanged messenger ids and started talking to each other. The first day we discussed what our lives had been through. The second day a little bit more. And the third came and we started talking about the good old days.

“There’s something that I have never forgotten.”

“ Ahan!”

“ I don’t know how to put it. Don’t even know if you remember.”

“I know what you are talking about.”

“You Do?”

“Let me help you out. We were sleeping or probably pretending to sleep. We drew closer under the bed sheet and hugged.”

“ You were the first girl I kissed.”

“ You were the first boy I ever kissed.”

He never forgot. I wasn’t shocked at the confession. It was something that had haunted both of us for long. We were relieved that we both remembered and at last confessed and let go of the uneasiness. When I elicited the facts, he too told me that he never forgot. He named me baby girlfriend after that and I still call him baby boyfriend. We recently met and spoke to each other almost after fifteen years or more. It was a good mature conversation and that’s how I want to end this chapter of my life. Weird!