Meeting Ganga – 1

Hi Girls and guys, generally our childhood is always the golden time of life. However not all childhood memories are sweet, specially it was those punishments in the name of training. Yet there would be someone who make our life sweet in the mid of that. I was sitting in the corridor, running my memory back to those days, when my school teacher Shamanna made me to stand on the bench for some ridiculous reason. All had left for home, while he held me back for punishment. Making the things much worse is, I was asked to stand by the side of a girl from my class. What a shame, though she was also facing same punishment. I thought of jumping out and run away to end of world, so that he will never be able to catch me. Don’t know what skill he had in reading my mind, he shouted “you can’t escape from me, the punishment will be more severe, now pull your shorts down”. “What!!” I was in for a shock. I know there is nothing inside those pair of shorts. I may be around 8 or 9 year old then. Yet pulling the shorts down in front of a girl is a big shame for me. But no relief, he was very adamant. He walked towards me with a big stick. The very imagination of terror sent shivers down my guts, and don’t know when I really pulled my shorts down, I was standing naked below my waists, exposing my tiny penis then.

I was literally in tears for the shame I am going through. To add salt to injury, the girl standing next to me giggled, holding hand across her mouth to control the same. This further enraged him, he turned to her with vengeance “Now you shameless girl, pull your skirt down”. With no shame in her eyes she boldly unzipped and pulled her skirt down, standing with just a panties. She continued pulling her panties also down, standing completely naked in front of me and our teacher. Our teacher was least bothered to look at us. But for me it was first time to look at a girl naked. I was shivering, don’t know whether it is because of my shame or looking at a girl who is standing naked next to me. She moved and held my hand in her hand. Slowly my body started settling down and relaxed. Suddenly she turned to me, looking in to my eyes, she moved closer to me and gently touched her lips to my lips. Was it my first kiss of life, don’t know, but it sent a wave of energy in my body and I was in an ecstatic mood with all my shame disappeared.

Mom was shouting from kitchen, disturbing the train of my old memories. “Nagappa’s daughter is getting married, he is marrying her off to an American groom”. I know this is just an intro, and rest of the story is my problem to escort her to marriage. American groom would be none other than Indian born, America settled guy, but it is always fascinating in our family circle, as if America is some heaven, which they can never see. My father is always adamant to fulfill her wishes in visiting such stray marriages. Nagappa was our village headman, when we were in our old village Baregudda, a small settlement of few houses, which is now submerged in back water. Since then though all families from village settled in different towns and villages, marriages are an excuse for them to get together. I am sure my arrogant father always had some old scores with each of them, which he takes it as an excuse to avoid visiting such get together. As a son, I cannot say no to my mother, and I started looking out for reason.

But then it suddenly flashed in my mind, is it not the same girl, who kissed me years back, standing next to me on the bench. But then how many daughters Nagappa has. Before I start my enquiry, mom extended her story, hearing me silent. “He has only one daughter, Ganga, and his health condition is also perennially bad. I don’t know whether I will be able to meet them in this life or not”. Now this is ultimate hit for success. However I don’t required so much pressure. My mind already made up plans to visit the marriage of my childhood sweetheart, who gave me first kiss. How can I miss this opportunity.

In the journey of life, so many girls make our life beautiful. But it is not necessary that we need to pluck each of those flowers. Flowers need to be adored, kissed and get their nectar, and live forever in their sweet memories. Ganga probably was the first flower in my life, and if not for that punishment, I would have almost forgotten about her. She was as innocent and pure as river Ganga. Her innocent and sweet kiss still lies on my lips, though many girls kissed my lips later. First kiss is always a great memory, though I got it at the age when I was not even knowing what it is. Let me know your opinion , as I continue my story in next episode.