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Boys I Forgot to Kiss
Boys I Forgot to Kiss
Boys I Forgot to Kiss
Ebook64 pages50 minutes

Boys I Forgot to Kiss

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Boys I forgot to kiss is a poignant take on unrequited love: on silly guy encountersthat could have transitionedto soemthing more, if taken seriously, if at all. The stories are about 'missed connections' of what could have happened if things were taken forward. A merry work of fiction that speaks about modern romance in the time of social media. Each story is a little gem, traversing across cultures, countries, languages and curiosities.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDipu Darko
Release dateAug 28, 2018
ISBN9781386863717
Boys I Forgot to Kiss
Author

Dipu Darko

Dipu Darko was born to spill dreams living inside her for six hundred moons. She currently writes screenplays for a production house inbetween navigating new galaxies and attending foot fetish parties.

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    Book preview

    Boys I Forgot to Kiss - Dipu Darko

    Boys I forgot to kiss

    An Anthology of Lost Loves

    Boys I forgot to kiss is a poignant take on unrequited love; on silly guy encounters that could have transitioned to something more, if taken seriously, if at all. The stories are about ‘missed’ connections of what could have happened if things were taken forward.  A merry work of fiction that speaks about modern romance in the time of social media.

    Chapters

    The Pale American

    The Arms Dealer

    The German boy

    Afghan Boy

    My Remembrance of you

    The Goan Boy

    The Dutch Boy

    The Army Brat

    Boy from Oz

    The Shillong Boy

    The New Yorker

    The Egyptian

    The Irish man

    ––––––––

    The Pale American

    This was during that phase in life when first impressions meant head, toe and universe.  I’d recently joined a travel site and was hoping to meet some cool explorers ‘budgeting’ their time in Mumbai. You weren’t a member on that site as later you mentioned; it’s for LBT’s or Low budget travelers. I thought that was quite condescending. You reminded me of a character from a Bret Easton novel; privileged, entitled, Ivy League educated and from New England of course. Later, when you mentioned about your ‘The Cornell Club’ membership in New York, I was convinced about your ‘high headed- ness.’

    Never mind you originally hailed from Palm Springs, Florida.

    You hated it when I mentioned how ‘elitist’ you sound and then sharply proceeded to remind me of all those volunteering stints you’d done in Central America and remote parts of Africa.

    ‘ I spent four months in Ghana and Cameroon. It gets really hot in there.’

    I didn’t tell you then but I was blown by your brown curls and those glass colored eyes. But much before all this happened, I was attracted to your Brazilian friend Luca who was one of the active members on that particular travel forum. Luca and I connected instantly through many wonderful emojis and stickers; he was instantly agreeable and available. At that point I was seeking both.

    Finally, the day arrived when Luca suggested we catch up at this Jazz bar in downtown Mumbai.  Later that evening, he texted saying, he was a held up and said, his American friend wouldn’t mind picking me up as he lives in the very same neighborhood. 

    You were supposed to pick me up by cab and go together to this jazz bar. I was  more intrigued by Luca and was upset that he wasn’t there with us.  You called on the phone and appeared rather arrogant. 

    ‘Is that Ishaaa-ni, did I get the Ishaa-Nai right?’

    ‘No.’

    ‘Well, then is it like Pilani the engineering college?’

    ‘Yes, it’s Ishaani.’

    ‘Ok whatever, Indian names can be horrendously confusing.’

    ‘Just like American names.’ I whispered.

    ‘So, I’ll see you in an hour? Please text your exact location.’

    ‘Cool.’

    When I came down you looked lean, tall and instantly got out of the cab to say Hi.

    I actually liked that gesture and warmed up to you.  In those two and half hours we talked non-stop about all our favorite American books, movies and TV shows and gasped in unison at how much we both loved ‘True Blood.’ Talking about Vampires I noticed you had pointy teeth and there was something  ‘Ian Somerhalderish’ about you.

    You guffawed aloud and yelled, ‘Ian Somerhalder! You mean that vampy creep Ian Somehalder, are you fucking kidding me?’ . I joined in with the laughs and kept saying Yea, Yea. I now realize that for the major part I was doing the Yea Yeas.

    You had sleepy, dreamy eyes and I always felt that you were staring at me. We bought beer mid-way and soon we were rambling about your upcoming Kashmir trip when you randomly suggested that we should do this trip together and after we reached Srinagar, we could take the bus to Ladakh. You then started chanting all the possible available fares and quoted everything from flight, rail, road options.

    ‘So, you’ve done all the research!" I said sarcastically.

    ‘You must do Kashmir once in your life. You must. It’s Switzerland on steroids.’

    ‘Switzerland on steroids? Interesting way to put it.’

    I was utterly amused by your gallant and robust enthusiasm that I nervously yelped Yes, why not! 

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