An Indian Love Story – The Beginning

As chance would have it I got to know a Brazilian guy on my stay abroad in India with whom I’ve fallen head over heels in love. And he also with me. I never believed in love at first sight and suddenly I could feel it, grab it, touch it. A random meeting at an Indian acquaintance’s house – who turned out to be a cheater and tyrant – has got the ball rolling. This guy showed up a little rude, cheeky and interesting –  somehow different from that standard guy you can differentiate into slime and bad boy. My fascination started to grow. We talked a lot about these and that. He showed me how to eat correctly with my right hand. “Here, you need to take these three fingers and compress them. And take enough sauce, so you can grab the rice, otherwise it will keep falling.” It wasn’t easy for me. I was living in India for three weeks. Eating with hands resists everything what I have learnt in my good nursery. The slippery warm porridge seeped through my fingers. Learning again how to eat – caught like a toddler in an adult body. After several attempts, I managed it, somehow. The Brazilian laughed at hand meal tests. It was all right for him to laugh! He was living there for three months at that time.

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My favourite transportation in India

Some time later he started more advances. His Colombian flatmate danced passionately beside me to various pop anthems. In that moment he nudged me from the side and said: “She can teach you how to dance properly like in South America.” I was outraged. “Hey, you don’t even know how I can dance”, I said to myself. I turned away from him. But after a few drinks I presented proudly my dancing skills. Lo and behold! He even praised me for my moves. I have a good booty for dancing. And certainly I had enough alcohol in my blood, too. We began to talk more intensely, drank some beer and took some pictures together. You never know what they will be useful for one day.

About two or three in the morning, he and his room mates left the party and went back home. We were too many people to go home together. I slept there and it turned out to be a big mistake. Firstly, my room mate tried to score with me. I fled into the living room. There, the Indian acquaintance was asleep. I didn’t want to wake him up, but it was already too late. He asked me what happened. I explained the situation to him and he just shrugged his shoulders. “You’re an attractive woman. I would also try to hit on you”, he said casually. I just wanted to go away from there. Far away. He said that I should go back to the bed. I went to the balcony, stayed there for a while until I could convince him to take me home. On the way he told me that I am in his debt for now on. The whole trip I had to listen to his homily. Finally, we reached the front door of my flat where I jumped out of the car immediately. I told everything to my other roommates. They were shocked and apologized that they left me alone.

My day was all over bar the shouting, at least I thought so. At noon, my facebook account gave a shout. Someone wants to add me as a friend. Nothing special in India! But it was the Brazilian guy from the night before. I immediately accepted his request. Something attracted me to him. I can’t express what it was, even until today. “Where did he get my last name from? I only told him my first name, didn’t I?” I reflected. “Hello. It is me from yesterday. How are you? How long have you been there? It was nice meeting you.” This was the first message from him. I replied. From that time on we were writing daily.

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My Brazilian and me

Our subjects ranged from simple “how are you” – messages to “good night” – wishes. It was nice to know that he was always there, somehow, even if we had only non-personal contact – for now. I worked a lot, he also did, and we lived far apart. As it turned out in our conversations, I should even start working in his company. But I decided against this opportunity and chose another company. He also admitted  that he had already seen me before in a local club. I danced with my roommates and he asked one of them who I am. “Why did you notice me there?” “You’re so different from all people here, and you were the most beautiful woman there.” I was impressed. Me, the most beautiful woman? That can’t be right.

After a short time I had the feeling that I have started fall for this unknown guy. It sounds naive, but he partook of something. We also talked about this. We realized that we are totally similar and still different. And of course he asked me for a date. I was insecure. India has taught how to survive in an enemy territory like a cockroach in a kitchen. In plain terms: Never hang out alone with a stranger in India. My room mates warned me: “He only wants to score with you. Take care of yourself. You can’t meet a stranger.” I defended him, defended myself. I said that I only want to check out the situation. “Finally, I can go home again at any time.” They thought I was going crazy. Crazy, that’s what it was. He was so strange to me and yet so close. Closer than any other man I have ever met before. I had to meet him. I needed to figure out whereto our adventure could lead.

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