Humari 'Choti' Rasam
INNOVATION
Yeh baat itni gehri hai ki roz raat ko jab main akela hota hoon, tabhi isse sochta hoon. Mujhe pata hai yeh galat hai, haram hai, par mera mann rukta hi nahi.
Main, Aryan, 24 ka hoon, Pune mein engineering ki job karta hoon. Meri behen, Priya, 21 ki hai, woh abhi final year mein hai. Humari family bahut traditional hai—mere Papa army mein the, strict rules, sab kuch proper. Humare ghar mein Maryada sabse upar thi.
Lekin ghar mein hum dono hi bacche the, aur humara bond bachpan se hi alag tha. Baki bachon se zyada, humara jhagra kam aur companionship zyada thi. School vacations mein jab hum Delhi mama ke ghar jaate, toh chote se kamre mein ek hi double bed share karte the. Wahan woh choti choti cheezein shuru hui thi—mere tang kheenchne ke bahane uske legs ko touch karna, ya raat ko dar lagne par woh mere seene se lipat jaati thi. Normal sibling stuff, we told ourselves.
Lekin 3 saal pehle, jab Priya college ke liye Pune aayi, sab badal gaya. Papa ne usko mere saath flat share karne ke liye bheja (humara apna flat tha, Rohan ke liye nahi). Pehle toh sab theek tha, routine set thi—college, gym, study.
Par woh summer vacation jab hum dono Pune mein the aur parents out of town gaye the—that’s when the line blurred and dissolved.
Ek raat, bahar storm aaya hua tha. Light chali gayi. Priya darr gayi. Woh mere room mein aayi aur mere bed par let gayi. Hum dono long shorts aur t-shirts mein the. Achanak, usne mere haath ko pakad liya aur bas sehlaati rahi. Conversation band ho chuka tha. Atmosphere heavy tha.
Maine uski aankhon mein dekha. Woh bhayabheet nahi thi, woh excited lag rahi thi. Maine dheere se poocha, "Priya, what are you doing?"
Usne bas sigh kiya aur boli, "Thand lag rahi hai, Aryan. Tight hug de na."
Main uth gaya aur usko hug kiya. Tight. Itna tight ki uski saans ruk rahi thi. Tab usne apna face mere neck par daala aur uski breathe garam thi. Uske baad jo hua, woh mere dimag mein high-definition mein record hai.
Usne dheere se mera T-shirt utar diya. Aur phir usne jo kiya... yaar, main bata nahi sakta. It was tentative at first, almost apologetic, but when I responded—when I didn't pull away, jab maine uske baal pakad liye—she transformed.
Uska darr ek dum se aggressiveness mein badal gaya. She was exploring me, touching parts of me she shouldn't have even known existed. Woh mujhse upar aayi, aur maine uske face ko dekha. Her eyes were half-closed, aur uske lips bade, full lag rahe the. Woh boli, "Tumhe kya pasand hai, bhai?"
Maine gusse se nahi, zaroorat se bola, "Mujhe tu pasand hai, Priya. Jo bhi tu chahe."
Uske baad, woh room, woh andhera, woh tej barish ki awaaz—sab ek blur ho gaya. Woh pehli baar tha jab maine usko bas apni behen ki tarah nahi, balki apni zaroorat ki tarah feel kiya. Woh mere upar thi, aur woh mujhe control kar rahi thi, hukm chala rahi thi. Yeh feeling—apni hi khoon ki galti karna—it’s intoxicating.
Ab hum har do hafte mein ek 'movie night' karte hain, jab hum dono flat par hote hain. Woh mujhe aise dekhti hai jaise main uski possession hoon. Kabhi kabhi humein sharam aati hai, but jab woh mere paas aakar, chupke se mere kaan mein bolti hai, "Aryan, aaj Papa-Mummy ghar par nahi hain," toh woh sharam kuch seconds mein aag mein badal jaati hai.
Mujhe pata hai yeh duniya ke liye paap hai, but I can’t stop. She is my sister, my secret, and my ultimate addiction. I pay to keep this secret hidden, and honestly, I’d pay more just to never stop.