Once upon a time, in a small nondescript town near Havana in Cuba, there lived a young girl named Mojito. Well, she was one helluva dramatic. She was that little lady in the town who was a bubbly mix of sass, sweetness, and a dash of lime-induced sexy. Now, Mojito had two eternal admirers in her life- Rum, the smooth-talking, deep-hearted soul who brought heat and headiness to her world, and Soda, the cool, fizzy best friend forever who could lift her mood with just a whisper of sparkle.
Mojito’s affair with Rum had been for as long as she remembered -he was her first real high, her midnight prince, her dance partner on rooftop parties and beach sunsets. He knew how to stir her soul and muddle her heart in all the right ways. To keep it short, Rum was intense – the perfect addition to her fiery soul. Rum brought the kind of passion that made her lose herself, forget her resolutions, and sometimes, even her way home.
Enters Soda.
Soda was light. Effervescent. Solid and never swayed. He was committed to Mojito. The kind who never demanded too much, always left her feeling refreshed, and never wanted to leave her side. With Soda, she could breathe. Think straight. Even wake up early for exercises.
Unfortunately, all her friends taunted her whenever she was with Soda. They whispered that Soda was just the sidekick, the filler- because without Rum, who was Mojito, really?
Just like this, the days passed. Sometimes- just sometimes -Soda would show up alone in parties all fizzed up in crystal glasses with mint and crushed ice, throwing shy glances across as people murmured, “A virgin Mojito tonight?”
And Mojito would smile, a knowing smile. No, she wasn’t ghosting Rum. She definitely wasn’t cheating either. She was just taking a break from the intoxicating rush. From the wild sensation of being with Rum. From waking up with a bloated face and antics she couldn’t explain.
She knew, she understood that passion is beautiful, yes. But too much passion? Aah…. that’s a hangover.
What about Soda? Well, he understood. He never asked for labels. He was happy just bringing her the bubbles when she needed a break. A cleanse.
You know what, sometimes, being “virgin” isn’t about being boring. It just meant Mojito was reclaiming her calm – one cool sip at a time. This platonic love was definitely something else.
Hey, don’t worry, Rum was never too far behind. After all, love like that – fiery, messy, unforgettable – always finds a way back no matter what.
And so, Mojito swirled her way through life, sometimes with Soda, sometimes with Rum, but always, always on her own terms.
Ask me why ? It’s because the heart may belong to Rum, but the soul? That’s all Mojito.
By Sanghamitra GhoshBasu
Sanghamitra is an IT professional from Kolkata. A wanderer at heart, she embraces the world with open arms and endless curiosity. She can be contacted at sghoshbasu@gmail.com
