Short Stories

THE LAST TRAIN TO PARIS
Lata Jagtiani

They had run to the gare and reached just two minutes before the TGV took off for Paris. All because they had lingered at the lake so that she could spend more time with the cygnes and the canards. She was surprised by his uncharacteristic patience.

“Happy?” he asked gently as she finished feeding the ducks. It was forbidden to feed them in Annecy. The beautiful Mount Veyrier was enveloped by mists. And they had to leave.

Suddenly they noticed the time and ran from the lake to the hotel, from the hotel to the gare, running madly with their strolleys over the cobbled streets.
Now they were aboard seated on opposite sides. The countryside started to run away from them. Now and then the sun winked at them and she winked back. Ashish smiled but his mind seemed elsewhere.
“Something wrong?”“It will go….”
“Share..?”
“Just thinking how happy we are in France, not in India…”
His phone beeped. He glanced at it and quickly put it away.
“Wrong number.”
The shadow began to loom again.
She turned again to the flying landscape. Suddenly a river burst through the manicured verdant fields. It ran fast and breathless. It was alive.
“Want my seat? Going to the toilet.” He rose and left. He always took the seat that saw what was coming and she always saw what had already gone. She took his seat.

“You reflect too much, life is not serious, live for a change! Life is to be enjoyed..! You and your retrospect, your regrets!” Yes, she was sad. But she had been a happy lark before he arrived on the scene.
She looked out through the window-pane. She froze.
She saw something menacing, sharp, angry. It was scary. Her eyes saw her face reflected on the glass-pane. Am I really like this, she shuddered. How awful, poor Ashish. The angry lines between her brows were fearsome. Although the two of them were thirty-two, it was she who seemed jaded and not him. And so Ashish’s shadow. No wonder.

He returned and sat across from her. “Do I look like an angry person?” she asked.His neck jerked forward, ”What?” He paused. “No, not angry exactly, grim…yes, grim.” She saw his hands shake as he picked up his cigarettes.
“This is non-smoking.”“Damn them, I’ll smoke if I want to!”
Thankfully the compartment was empty save for a Frenchman nodding sleepily at the rear.
“I think I’ll visit the loo too.”
She shut the toilet door. She gasped. On the floor of the toilet lay his Ericsson mobile phone. As soon as she picked it up it rang. She pressed “Ok” and heard a voice, “Don’t ever hang up on me again, Ashish, I’ll kill you. You think it’s that easy to break up with me? You traipse off to France and now you don’t want to tell her about us?”
Her knees wobbled, she switched it off. Shadow was following them.
She sat down on the toilet-seat, fidgeting with her hair. After a few minutes she got up, pressed the cistern-button and flung the phone into the flushing toilet-bowl. Now she had forty-eight hours.
She combed her hair, applied some lipstick and mascara and dabbed some perfume behind her ears and between her breasts. Smiling weakly at herself she noticed her frown fading.
“Saw anything special?” she asked happily.
“You missed nothing.”
“I missed you!” she laughed and tugged at his coat-sleeve. He pulled his arm away.
“I have to talk to you about something… something serious..”
“No, nothing serious, you said I take life too seriously, now I have decided no seriousness, only joy, laughter…you, me…in this lovely train, just us, a happy couple married seven years. Only hopes and songs, rainbows and butterflies!”
Her gaiety was forced but she had no choice and no time. It had to work.
“Are you crazy? Why are you…”“Because I saw myself in the window-pane, you see, I am not what I seem, please, I’m not angry, I am not grim, I’m a happy person on an Annecy train. Please.”
His face was ashen.
“Look, I have to say something to you…please, listen to me.”
“Ashish, no! I won’t listen. There’s just you me and this beautiful day in this beautiful country. No serious talk, promise. Tell me a joke, we are under forty-eight hours to Delhi.Something drew her attention to her face in the window-pane. Just in time.
“Tell me a nice joke!” She felt giggly.
“Ok, here’s the joke. But you have to listen carefully.”“OK, shoot.”“A man and a woman were unhappy with each other. They stayed together because they were decent but they were unhappy.”
He paused and saw her eyes mist. He reached out to hold her shaky hand on the table between them.
“He thought he would find somebody and he was going to break up but he couldn’t.”“Why?” she whispered.
“He was going to tell her that he would leave her but just then he saw her feeding the cygnes and the canards. He saw the mischief in her eyes as she turned to see if anybody was watching her and he also saw the canards rush towards her, he saw how they all looked so natural, so serene and he thought, this is my world, not the other…. That’s when he made up his mind.”
“But the punch-line?”
“His life was a joke till he saw that lovely picture. The joke’s over.”
He took her hands and kissed them. She looked away. The shadow had gone.
At least for now.
She tried to remember what she had said to the ducks while feeding them. Ah yes-she had said to the cygnes, “You and me, we can see what lies beneath the mist. A shadow is momentary, not eternal, it passes.”

THE POINT
Lata Jagtiani


Its time, Rohit Bajpayee muttered to himself, to close shop. It was late. He had waited for the woman who had shown an interest in buying his textile shop. She’d left with the words, “Give me some time; I’ll let you know in due course.”

That was four months ago. She hadn’t returned. Yet with every dawn he felt she’d call, every evenings, he’d despair. Then he’d chastise himself for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

He had a good life. In fact, he’d been luckier than most. He was healthy, had a faithful wife, a decent bank balance, a good reputation and no real grouse against life and yet……

“You’ve missed the point !”
That whisper again, shattering his peace yet another time. Anxiety crept in. He touched his wife.

“Purnima, are you awake?” he asked. He knew she wasn’t, and yet he couldn’t control himself. Panic and passion gripped him.

“What is it?” she asked annoyed at being woken. Her voice was strained, sullen and tense.
“Can we…?”
“NOW?”
“Please, I need it.”
Purnima shut her eyes and pursed her mouth. Was she going to cry? But it was almost always over in an instant, sometimes no sooner than it started. And he was a man, goddamnit.

Purnima knew she couldn’t stop him. She’d waited in vain for the day he’d say, “I want you” rather than “I need it”. She never told him- this is an act of love, not a duty to perform.

When she had first seen him she had found him repulsive and had refused to marry him. He was too milky white. She’d wanted a rugged-looking man who walked with leonine grace, not somebody who shuffled around wobbling his excessive weight about him. On the day he came to “see” her he had picked at the samosa with his neatly filed red thumbnail. Red nailpolish on a man! When she had told her parents she wasn’t attracted to him they had been bewildered. The man should feel attracted, not the woman. She was only being difficult. Babaji would drill some sense into her head.

While she waited outside plaiting and unplaiting her long hair, she overheard them explaining to Babaji: she was a “manglik”, she was dark, her eyesight was weak, and she was too tall for the community’s boys.Would Babaji talk to her? How could she refuse a decent, well-settled boy from their society, merely because she wasn’t attracted to him!

“Beti, come here,” he invited her softly, while gesturing to her parents to leave the room. She was relieved to see them depart obediently.
“Yes, Babaji” she whispered. She touched his feet respectfully and then sat cross-legged on the mat. She met his eyes hoping he’d understand.
“You know how difficult it is for unmarried girls. Now you have three brothers and one sister, how will they feel if you spoil their chances? Your family will be embarrassed when they take you along for functions. You understand, beti?”
She nodded mutely.
“We can’t live for ourselves alone, we are here to make the world a happier place. Your family will be unhappy just because you weren’t attracted to this man. They say he has a good business and comes from a good family; why don’t you try living with him? Once you do that you’ll feel differently”.

“But he is so effeminate, he has nail-polish on his fingers...“Yes, yes, most marriages start like that, then they improve. All will be well. Try, for your parents’ sake, beti.”
Tears collected in her eyes. Her heart ached.
Then he added, “Be strong, you must ignore the heart, it is often confused and makes foolish choices…” Pausing, he had picked up a tulsi leaf and handed it to her.
“But you must give me your promise, beti, before you leave.”“Yes, Babaji?”
“You must promise that you will always cooperate with your husband when it comes to sex.”
She had been too shocked to respond to that forbidden subject. How could she discuss it with him of all people? She nodded, eyes downcast.

“I promise” she whispered and a shiver ran up her spine. She couldn’t take her mind off his red thumbnail.

She never refused him. He took. She gave. The heart watched silently as she made sensible choices. She cooked. He earned. He asked. She obeyed. It was pragmatic and got easier with time. This, too, shall pass, she told herself as he rocked and heaved over her, while she tightly gripped the side of the bed. Yet even after so many years she wanted to flee the room when he took her.

After so many years she still stiffens when I touch her, he thought angrily. She never initiates only surrenders. It was only her body. It was a task to be performed. Sometimes he couldn’t tell which was worse, the tension before or the frustration after. But she was his wife for whom he provided all the comforts.

But once someone had responded.
He had felt a woman tremble with pleasure. Once a woman had initiated, once a woman had been tireless, in ecstacy. She had loved him. After their lovemaking was over, she had always placed her hand over her heart. Bewildered, he’d asked her why.
“My heart is full, too full. I want to feel that fullness completely, and never forget it. I love you in every way.”
Purnima never did that. Her hand gripped the bed while he rocked and thrust. She never praised him or guided him; she just waited for it to end.

But with her, his love, it was different. She gripped his back, her fingers dug into his smooth body, she moaned, she laughed, she groaned. Sometimes when their lovemaking was done he found his head where his feet should have been. With her he lost track of both time and motion. She was passionate. But with Purnima he could neither forget time nor the futility of existence. When he saw his love place her hand on her heart he felt overwhelmed. He felt the tears in his eyes only when he was with her.

But one day she had spoilt it all by asking for his help. It meant that he would have to forsake his wife. How could she have imagined he’d leave Purnima who had borne his anger and impatience, who had given unstintingly? She was no child, she must have known how important his position and status was to him. She couldn’t make such a demand.

“Please, this is complicated, I have a position in society, a wife…”
She stared at him, her tears stopped in her eyes. He knew he had broken her heart. It was better to be clear and decisive than to waste time on unpleasant scenes.
“I suppose I was wrong about you,” she said as she collected her handbag.
He knew he had lost her then. She would only return to him now if she changed completely.

“Nobody can have loved you the way I’ve loved you” he said before parting.
Amazed, she asked, “Say that again?”
“Nobody must have loved you the way I’ve loved you,” he repeated flatly.
She nodded. “Yes, perhaps. For you… need is love, need is….”She stopped herself. She raised his fingers to her lips and kissed them each. “Sad. You’ve missed the point. It is you, perhaps, more than me, that needs help.” And she laughed. “Imagine that, you are older than me and even now you haven’t got it. You’ve missed the point completely. And yet, even then, the victory is yours. While you were loved completely, I didn’t know that I was loved with so little of your heart. I only occupied a tiny corner of your heart, a heart that was too small for me to grow in. I was only pleasure and excitement for you. I was foolish to seek more from you. We are two fools.”

Missed the point, she’d said. Sometimes he agreed. When she matures she’ll see that mine is the correct way. Until then he’d wait.
The meaning of it all, was it love? Love!
Better to be sensible and worry about the sale of the shop. If only she had left her number, her address with him…

Purnima awoke at seven. The doorbell, so early? She opened the door to a woman.
“I’m Dina Jain. We haven’t met.”
“Dina?” Purnima’s strong instincts told her the lady spelt trouble.
“What do you want?” Purnima asked in a tremulous voice.
“Hasn’t he told you about me?” she asked sweetly.
The room began to spin. Sharply she asked, “WHO?”
“Oh, he didn’t.”
She heard the bathroom door shut. He had gone for his morning ablutions. She heard the water running. He’d be here soon.
Purnima gripped her arm and said urgently, “ Please, don’t tell him you came here. I beg you. Please go away.”
Surprised by the frantic appeal, Dina felt her skin crawl under Purnima’s fingers. “But I… but he…”
“Please!”
She shrugged. Dina remarked casually, as she began to leave, “If you want to reach me I’m at Sagar Hotel today.”
“Yes, but no, I won’t be needing you, please go now.” The tap had stopped running. The bathroom door opened again.
She shut the front door quickly and turned around to face Rohit. Had he seen her?
“Who was that?”
Whew!
“Nobody, just someone who called at the wrong house. Tea?” she asked softly.
“Yes, has the paper arrived?”
“Oh, I forgot, I’ll get it for you.”
Her voice was gay.
Perhaps today she’ll call, he thought.
Purnima poured out the tea.
Two for him, one for her. Same as usual. Stir. Serve. Smile.

Akanksha smiled: it was her last day as Mrs Uday Gupta. Of course, it would come as a shock to Uday who hadn’t a clue that her mind was made up. She had made this decision neither easily nor quickly. Five years of agonizing had gone into it. She felt the actual walking out would be the easier. For her decision-making had always been painful.

It had been difficult to sustain the momentum. Initially she had dismissed the bad times as the exception and the good times as the rule and had, therefore, stayed put. Then the bad times out-weighed the good times. Sometimes she was at fault, most times it was him, but what did it matter? Bad was bad. The blame for the failure of their marriage rested on their shoulders. Her walking out would shatter him. She had played it wrong from the very beginning. Her praise fed his ego and made him swollen-headed. She had made him fall in love with himself and take her for granted. He did nothing to shower his love on her, even in gratitude. She had failed to get the love that she wanted from him so desperately.
"Where are you?" she heard him now, shouting from the shower.
"I need my towel!" he demanded.
His towel was in the closet, as always. Humming a tune under her breath she fetched it for him. For the very last time! She smiled broadly as she tapped twice on his door. His bare arm reached out to take it from her. Of course he never thanked her. She saw the towel and the arm disappear and the door slam shut. For the last time she would prepare his breakfast and his dabba. Toast, juice and tea; dabba: last night’s spinach, dal and rice heated in the microwave and stacked in the three-tiered lunch thermos. Half an hour more of his presence in her life and then it would all be over between them.

She looked around her in the living room that was now so cluttered, so full of life, with their memories and possessions strewn all over the place. His cell phone, wallet and keys, her own Vaseline container, nail-file and cherry red nail polish bottle, the morning’s newspaper which lay open ready to fall to the floor, her keys on the dining-table, some cassettes on top of the stereo. None of these things would be around in the evening when he returned. He'd come back to the house where she did not live anymore.
"You're looking nice!" she exclaimed.
Uday nodded mechanically.
"Ready for breakfast?" she asked with a smile.
He nodded again.
"Long day ahead?"
"Yes." He mumbled, picking up the newspaper and burying his face in it. From behind it she saw his arm again lift the toast from the plate.
Last breakfast!
She made one more attempt, "What's the news today?"
"Nothing new, an old couple got killed in their flat last night."
"Oh no. That's sad, who were they?" please, do put the paper down.
"Why don't you read the paper yourself?"
"Okay, I'll read it later." Bad mood. What’s new? Enough of his moods.
Read the newspaper today of all days? No time, Mister. But even if she mentioned this to him he wouldn't ask her what she would be busy with. He ignored her most of the time. Her life was nothing but boredom and he despised it.
But he needed her for his sickness. Emotional cripples do that, they find somebody loyal and silly like herself and then they neither accept her nor reject her. They hold on and yet never let go. That’s not embracing, that’s hand-cuffing! He tolerated her not because she was the tyrant’s last refuge.
"Some juice?" she inquired again. Speak to me, she pleaded silently, acknowledge me, for once, show me that I exist for you.
“Hmm."
In a honeyed voice she asked, "Shall we meet at the pub in the evening?"
"No."
"Let's, please!"
"I'll call you if we can, okay? Now may I please have a moment's peace?""We could even pick up that lovely vase you promised me on our last anniversary, it’s next door to the pub."
He didn't know how much his answer meant to her today. She really wanted him to give her a signal, any signal that would make her change her mind, convince her to stay.
He lowered the newspaper and asked without humour, "Do you have any idea how much it costs?"
"But you promised!"
"I'm just saying let's wait, I'll get it for you, only not today."
"But what should I wait for?"
"Will you leave it to me, for God’s sake!"
"And then you promised me we'd go to Matheran in the Diwali holidays but they came and went and we were holed up here all through."
"Stop nagging me, can you leave me be?" His sharp voice had risen higher than his eyebrows. His eyes were bulging as he leaned forward with his clenched fists on the table. His arms were so strong.
"Please, at least, lets go to the pub today!"
"Back off woman, stop stifling me!"
She had given it her best shot. If he had agreed to meet her at the pub she would have dropped the idea of leaving him, that had been her pact with herself. This was an old habit with her. She would make these strange connections: when she'd light a match she'd wait for it to burn right till the end. As a teenager she had done that when she was in love with the boy across the road. If her fingers got burnt then he really loved her lots! But if the flame died out earlier, his love was weak. She just made these connections and they worked for her. At least they had then. Now this was working for her, he was being his difficult self. All the signs were there and they were all bad.
"Okay". There was a tone of finality in her voice.
He rose from the table, his juice and tea untouched. He picked up his cell phone, which had already begun its polite but persistent intrusion in their lives.
"Yes?"
Pause.
"Of course, I'll do it, don't worry, I'll be in the office in half an hour, why don't you drop in?"
Pause.
"Me too. Bye".
"Who was that?" she couldn't stop herself.
He turned around, raised two fingers, glared and left. On other days she would have hated this, but today his gesture encouraged her. It was a good decision, he hadn’t cooperated one bit all morning. He was pushing her over the brink.
Time to go. Now, time to act. First things first.
The closet first. Yes the bag was already packed and hiding behind her long salwar-kurtas. She lifted it out and kept it by the door. Next, her purse.
She went to her bedside cabinet and opened it. There it was as right as rain. She checked the contents. The money, the credit cards and her jewellery, all there. Is there anything I’ve forgotten? She tried to remember, scratching her head.
"Yes," she heard a soft whisper. "Yes, you are leaving me behind."
She sat on the bed, peering around the room, trying to gather her wits about her. Who was it?
She saw the same double bed, the same cupboard, the dressing table, the chair the books and the little lamps.
"It's me!"
The whisper was a trifle louder now.
"Who?"
"Me, I'm the wall around you."
"Don't be ridiculous!" she heard herself saying.
Was this some kind of a cruel joke? Was she losing it? A panic-attack, perhaps?
"No, I am the wall, I saw it all. I saw everything that you went through and your suffering. I heard you silently and saw what happened. I am sorry that you are leaving me."
She couldn't believe it. The house, the walls were talking to her. This was incredible. Even more stupidly, she decided to answer. She had to know some things.
"But why did you not say anything to me while I suffered? What is the use of offering your sympathies now?"
"Like you, I'm a coward. Till this moment I lacked the courage."
"The past was bad and you know it, now let me go," she whispered.
Why on earth was she whispering back? Somehow it seemed like the right thing to do; one spoke French in France, Hindi in the vegetable market, and one whispered to a whisperer.
"But it isn't Uday that is at fault, don't blame him," the wall coughed.
"Bad cough?" She asked the house softly. She snatched a glance at her watch, she was running late.
"It's been with me since you applied that coat of paint last year. It just didn't suit me, you know, that was cheap paint."
Last year! She remembered. They wanted to put up the house for sale; it had been her idea and not Uday's. But he had agreed. After her uncle had told them that the vastu of the house was wrong, they decided to sell it. Perhaps the vastu was to blame for their plight.
"Don't take it personally," she said gently," it was the vastu…"
"I heard what Uncle said, but is it my fault? That's the way they made me. Who cares how I feel?"
"No, it isn’t true, I care."
Again she looked at her watch. For crying out loud, she was late and talking to walls! She shook her head, crazy. This was really crazy.
"Good-bye then," it whispered.
She pressed her fingers to her lips and touched the wall behind the bed. Some nights had been beautiful and others had been bad.
It had seen them all. She felt a shiver run down her spine, a peeping Tom in their bedroom! Oh God, her flabby thighs!
"Good-bye, house, look after yourself."
"He isn't a bad man, really, but you need time to think. Yes, go away for a while. Go then and bless you!"
She touched the wall again and smiled at the room.
An hour later she was in a hotel-room. She called Vineet. He sounded curt or as he in a hurry? "Okay, I'll finish work and meet you in the room at six."
He sounded busy, irritable: had he changed his mind?
At six-thirty she heard a knock.
She opened it. Her excitement was tinged with fear.
"Vineet!" she exclaimed. He looked distracted. Something was wrong.
"What is it?" her voice shook.
"Did you tell your husband you were leaving today?"
"Definitely not, whatever gave you the idea?"
"Sure?"
"Of course, do you really think I am that stupid?"
He stared hard at her.
"He called me."
"What?""He called me in the afternoon."
The blood drained from her face. "What did he say?"
"He asked me if I had met you yesterday."
"What did you reply?"
"Of course I denied it. I kept my answer short, I didn't know what he was driving at."
"Then?"
"Then he said, that if I was interested in having you he wouldn't stop me."
Her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth in amazement.
"Then?"
"I said I didn't know where he got his ideas from but I had nothing to do with you and that if he had any problems with you it was for the two of you to work them out."
"But how did he find out?" She felt the tears gather in her eyes.
"Did you tell anybody about us?"
"Of course not, that would be crazy."
‘Look, I don't know what your husband is up to, but this gives me the creeps. We’ll have to hurry things now, there’s very little time."
"What’s your plan? I've left him, now the only plan we have is to be together."
"Don't be silly, I can't have him know about us, don't you see? He is the Agency’s client, do you know how quickly he can get me sacked from there? What will we live on then?"
"Silly, don't worry, I have my jewellery to take us through the first couple of years at least."
"Okay, then leave it to me. Let me get it valued at Paritosh’s and if it's around two lakhs we can immediately move to Delhi and start a new life."
"Should we go now?"
"Not you, I can't be seen with you in public today of all days. I'll just hop across and be back in a couple of hours. You wait right here and don't make any calls till I return, okay?"
She nodded. Of course he’d do the right thing, she trusted him. She lifted her handbag. Suddenly she heard a whisper, "Don't!"
She looked at Vineet but he was busy admiring himself in the mirror.
"Did you say something?" she asked him.
"No, why?"
"It was I!" It's the wall again! Here too?She had to do something, Vineet would think she was mad if she told him about it. But she couldn’t ignore the wall either.
"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back," she said loudly, taking the bag with her.
She locked the door behind her and sat down on the lowered seat.
"Now tell me, what do you want to say?"she whispered.
"I said, don't give him the jewelry, don't."
"But why?"
"Trust me, not him."
"Vineet loves me, he isn't like my husband," she whispered.
"If you want to know if Vineet loves you, insist on going with him, if he accepts immediately to your request I am wrong, but if he doesn't then will you go back to your husband?"
"Go back? Are you crazy?"
"Look, I am a wall and I've seen the world, I have seen many couples, I have also seen what Vineet is behind your back. You must not give Vineet your jewels, keep them with you at all times."
She nodded.
"Is that a deal?" There was a note of urgency, a hint of her mother's warnings that she could sense through its whisper. Perhaps it was right, what was the harm in testing Vineet?
"Okay, but you will see that you are wrong," she said confidently.
"What, did you say something, love?" She heard Vineet's richly textured voice.
"No, no, I was just singing something, I'll be out in a moment. "
Then she whispered, "Okay, I accept, but you watch, you'll see how wrong you are."
"Don't lose hope, child." She felt like crying, was it her dead mother warning her through the wall?
"Vineet, I really feel like coming with you to the jewelers"
"Don't be childish, we can't be seen together. Not until the coast is clear."
"Okay, well then, I have an idea, I'll go and get it evaluated and you wait."She saw him start. He didn't seem like himself. His face clouded over.
"I get it! You don't trust me!"
"You are right, I guess I really must distrust you to leave my husband for you."
"That’s very clever, you are trying to have it both ways, don't fight with me, I am not your husband; it isn't nice for women to be seen selling their jewelry."
"Vineet, say whatever you want, I'm coming."
Vineet's face blanched.
"Watch him now!" said the whisper. She started. Vineet was oblivious to the whisperer. He was staring hard at her.
He sighed. "Okay, we'll do this together, at least let us carry it safely, take it out of your purse and make a separate bundle. Have you brought your diamonds?""Yes, they are there, too."
"Now listen carefully." The whisperer was distracting her, or, on the contrary, was it putting her on track?
"My bag has a combination lock so it will be safe there, your purse now, anybody could grab it, you know how people are."
"Okay, fine, but don't you want to freshen up while I do it?""Yes, good idea, I'll just use the washroom before we leave.""Saw that?" she heard the whisper. "Okay, listen now, just call your husband quickly and ask him to meet you at Paritosh's."
"Are you crazy?"
"Do it, listen to me!"
She picked up the phone and dialed his office.
"Hello, this a recording, I am not in just now…" she heard the out-going message and quickly said,
"Uday, this is me, can you meet me at Paritosh Jewelers at Zaveri Bazaar, urgently? This is really urgent."
"Good girl, now wait for him at the door, keep the jewelry with you."
"And you, will you be there too?" she felt so scared now, but with the wall there was a new sense of security.
"I'm right with you wherever you go today, don't worry."
Vineet tried hard to get her to put the jewels in his bag but she resisted with charm. They left the hotel and the cab wound its way through the busy traffic effortlessly. Neither of them spoke. He kept staring ahead, his lips in a thin, tight line. She noticed his large ears, how strange, she thought, I’ve never noticed them before today. She saw that his trousers were styled in the latest fashion. He must spend a lot on clothes, she thought.
As they entered Paritosh's she saw Uday alighting from a taxi behind them. There seemed to be another person in the cab or had he come in a share-a-cab? He looked at her with annoyance, but she warned him by putting her finger to her lips and gesturing for him to follow them. Uday nodded, his irritation giving way to anxious concern. For once she was grateful for his sharp intellect. He had sensed trouble and he was ready. Discretely he followed them into the shop,

Vineet noticed nothing. He was focused on smiling at Mr Zaveri, the owner of the shop. She saw him switch on the charm. It was easy for him, she had always admired that about him. Not like poor Uday who was all rough edges and sharp retorts. Vineet was a man of the world, never abrasive, never offensive. Very suave.
"How are you? Haven’t seen you for quite a while!" the owner exclaimed grabbing Vineet’s arm and shaking it vigorously.
"Oh fine, fine, and you?" Vineet asked him slapping him on the back.
"Good, but could be better, but don’t get me started. What brings you here today?"
Vineet gestured to her to open her bag.
"Some jewelry, can you evaluate it?" Vineet yawned.
"Of course, of course, show me, is it yours or does it belong to -?"He looked at her then.
She studied her shoes.
Uday watched the proceedings from behind as the bag opened and he saw his wife's diamond set on the table. His eyes bulged from their sockets. Had she been kidnapped?
"Akanksha! What are you doing here?" She turned. An old school-friend slapped her on the back. Oh no!
"Hi, Devika! I didn't see you coming in!"
"Feeling rich these days, buying some jewelry, are you?""No, just looking, " she mumbled.
"Are you buying this set? It seems quite old, doesn't it?" she persisted.Vineet piped in, "I like old things actually."
"Devika, meet Vineet," she stammered. Thank God Devika hadn't attended her marriage or she would have recognized Uday and wondered what was going on. Now he was only another unknown shopper in the store for her.
"Let me see it!" Devika reached out for the necklace. Akanksha handed it to her.
"Exquisite, isn't it? Quite intricate. Charming, it has a certain grace, definitely. "How much are they asking for it?"
Akanksha was nonplussed, "We don't know yet, we've only just looked at it, would you also be interested in purchasing it?"
"Hmmm…let me see, why it would do very well for my daughter's marriage, it's coming up, you know, next month in fact. I was looking for something lovely for her."
"Well, he hinted that is was around 3.5 lakhs." Vineet smiled and said warmly.
Devika looked surprised, "That's all? That's really a good price, are you sure that’s all he is asking?"
"I guess you can have it then, we are still in two minds about it. Let me go and ask him if he will negotiate with us for it so I can get a good price for you. You wait with Akanksha, I'll have a word with him and be back."
She knew he would work out a deal with the jeweler so that he would sell it to Devika as if it was his jewelry and he would get a cut for it. Everybody would be happy! Devika, Vineet and Paritosh. Almost everybody.
As soon as he left, Devika quickly looked at Uday, handed the jewels to him and left as speedily as she had entered. Uday said,
"Hurry, let's leave, fast!"
Akanksha couldn't understand what was going on but there was no time to lose. They ran out of the shop and entered the first taxi that stood outside the shop. Uday gave the address to the driver and just as their cab pulled out she saw Vineet come out of the cabin and look around the shop in confusion.
Saved!
But now what would she say to Uday by way of explanation?
He turned to look at her in shock, "How did this happen?""He said that he had spoken to you on the phone this morning….""What? That’s nonsense! Why would I say anything to him and ask you to give him the jewelery?"
"He said, he said, I don't remember exactly but her said that he had called you today?""Are you crazy, what's got into you? Has he mesmerized you or something? Tell me what happened, we have to go to the police with the full story.""No, he won't bother us, he came to the house, I don't know what he did, he probably hypnotized me I think, I don't know how I got the jewelry out, but I felt I needed to call you…I don't understand…" she closed her eyes pretending to faint. She was in trouble, big trouble.
"Okay, okay, let's go home, then you get some rest, then we'll talk about it."
They reached home and as soon as she entered the bathroom the wall whispered,
"Was I right? Now just pretend that Vineet rang the bell and after that you don't know what happened. Trust me that's your only way out of this situation."
"But you don't know Uday, he won't be happy with that explanation."
"Believe me, he will. There are ever so many housewives in Mumbai who go around saying their chain was snatched in the train; do you think that's what really happens? Their chains are not snatched, good God no, they willingly give their chains away with the hope that they will be released from their marital chains, but then they discover too late that they have been duped. There are many housewives who say they opened the door to a salesman and then they don't know what happened and that something valuable has disappeared. Haven’t you heard of such cases? And do the husbands disbelieve them? They just accept that women are dumb and that they are easily duped, this only helps reinforce their belief in male superiority. And so they suspend their disbelief and after sternly chastising their wives they go back to a happy married life. Which is what you should do. Forget Vineet."
She nodded her head; yes, she would have to feign illness for a couple of days and then Uday would forget all about it. R.I.P.
"But, tell me, how did Devika get there? Why did she help me?"
"Ah Devika, now that's where you have to understand life. For some time now she has been your husband's friend. You know, he too, is human."

MARY, THE LITTLE LAMB


I say women are have become impossible to deal with these days. Time was when a chap said hello to a girl she’d blush and lower her gaze. It was so charming, guys felt like getting to know the shrinking violet better, hehe, to push apart her petals and to delve deep into her innocent depths. Old India was just wonderful, old chap. But see how things are these days, they dress so brazenly, they’re crying out to be molested. It's so boring, yaar, it takes the challenge out of the whole game. Two bold persons, that’s dull, but one soft, the other hard, wah, what a combination! Usko kehte hain, wah kya cheez hai!

Now take my secretary. She's a Mack and you know how they are. Always willing to jump into the sack as long as she gets a couple of drinks. Look at her cleavage, have you seen her today, hang on, I'll call her into the room just so you can have a generous dekho and see what’s on offer. I'm a sharing kind of guy, what's mine is yours, buddy. When you get lucky, have one for me.

Miss Pereira, can you come in with the files of the Jaitley case, no, that can wait, this is urgent. I have an urgent letter for you do right away. Paresh, watch, yaar, see how I patao her. Watch the master in action. Take note of her dumplings, you don’t get too many of those in a kilo.

Ah, Ms Pereira, come in. No, there's no need to feel shy, this is my friend from U.S.A. New York, Paresh. Now, Miss Pereira, can you pull your chair up close, yes, that's it, my throat’s giving me trouble today and I really can’t speak over a whisper. Now, that's better. You'll be able to hear me better, and I can see you better.

By the way, Paresh was asking me earlier if it was possible for me to arrange a sightseeing trip around town. I thought you’d be the ideal person to show him the local sights. You could have the rest of the day off. Ok? That's fixed, see, Paresh, I told you I have a great secretary. Now would you send a letter to Jaitley and his lawyer that we are in no mood to compromise, why should we compromise, eh, Miss Pereira ? Heh, heh! Moreover, the offer is wide open, right Paresh, subject to their acceptance. We are willing to go all the way provided they are. One has to be tough, Miss Pereira, that’s what business is about. No, don’t put that in. After all, you haven’t been here long enough to know how our company works. Now continue the letter. On the other hand, we will spare nothing if they come around to our terms. Yours etc. Miss Pereira, at what time will you be free to start the tour? Three o'clock okay, let’s say, fifteen minutes from now? Fine, use the company car. Paresh, she’ll show you India with its various hues. All you have to do is to make sure you drop her home after dinner. Right. Thanks again, Miss Pereira. It’s sweet of you, I’ll keep it in mind.

So what did you think of her, buddy? Nice knockers yaar, did you see the outline of her bra through her blouse? Plenty to get your hands on, you are going to be in heaven, you lucky guy. Me ? No, yaar, I don't mix business with pleasure and some of us are just happy imagining, that way the fun lasts longer. If I was to f--- her then what would be left for me to imagine ? Oh, she’d give herself to me only too gladly. In fact, I came very close to succumbing to her generous charms only last month when she approached me for a loan for her brother’s operation for God knows what. She said, please, sir, I'll do anything for the money, please help me. Now I ask you, which gallant man can resist such an offer? But I thought of Aruna and how much trouble she’s been having with my week-end affair and then I thought, jaane do yaar, there will be other opportunities its better to be a voyeur-you can’t let your imagination run riot.

But I remember well, when I had got so close to a girl in my last job, you know. When our marriage was twelve years old I was depressed because my juniors superseded me. Then this girl, from the typing-pool shared her lunch with me, and we became friends. You know, yaar, how Aruna is, no time for fun, always serious, always doing the right thing, you know the kind that has something up her... this girl was so warm. She was like a warm blanket for me on a cold night. She was divorced and although her flat was tiny it was peaceful. It was the one place I could chill out. I’d visit her on Sundays. I’d tell Aruna that I was drinking with the "guys". You know she hates drinks, she is so boring and straight.

But Asha was different; she'd cook mutton curry and rice for me (we don’t cook non-veg at home, we are vegetarians, yaar). We'd have a few drinks and then we'd get down to great sex. God, she was India's answer to the geisha girl. She did whatever I desired unquestioningly, patiently, even now when I remember it yaar, it turns me on, heh heh.

What happened? Well, Aruna caught on and eventually somebody told her that my car was often parked below Asha's flat. One of her idiotic cousins who lived in the same colony asked her why she visited the colony so often and never looked them up. Aruna’s no fool, yaar, she understood. One Sunday when I had thoroughly enjoyed Asha’s cooking and over, haha, completely satisfied with life, I found Aruna waiting for me, sitting in Asha's building foyer,by the lift. As I got out of the lift I saw her.. She glared at me and walked away. It was scary, yaar, who wants complications with these chicks, they don't understand how a guy is made, buddy. Kya karega, yaar, I had to apologise, what about society? Divorce is difficult and Aruna is good to me in so many ways. There were tears, scenes, and finally one day when I got home late I was locked out. I returned to Asha's flat and spent the night there. I decided there in Asha's flat that this had gone on long enough, this wasn’t going to work, where’s the fun, yaar, if the wife knows everything? The thrill goes out of the window. And to top it all why should I lose everything for an easy lay? Women with no character know the score, it’s only a lay. I paid her a few thousand rupees and cleared out.

Where is she now? Oh, didn't I tell you? Things got difficult for her because the company had to choose between the two of us. I knew the company's secrets and also had a god-father in high places. They asked her to quit and she left. Just as well I didn’t choose Asha, yaar, because I’d have been in trouble. Two months later I read of her committing suicide. Now where would that have left me, I ask you?

Better the safe and boring anytime. Naturally,I was upset, but kya kare yaar, we have our own lives to lead. But she was something else in bed, oof kya body thi yaar! I’d have introduced you to her but you’ll have to make do with Miss Pereira. I get hot when she wiggles out of my office. Imagine her doing the rumba, shaking her maraccas to music!

Don't forget to offer her a couple of drinks, that really makes everything easy, you know how their body eases, their eyes brighten, oh god, you are gonna have an unforgettable time. I wish I could photograph her in her birthday suit. Arrey, do you know about the Jalgaon scandal? I've been trying to get my hands on those movies, yaar, but I just don't know the right people. Real life, real women, trapped on camera, blackmailed into surrendering their virginity. I’d give anything to see pure virgins in the act….

Miss Pereira, are you ready to go with Paresh ? No, no, you don't need to change your clothes, they are just fine, especially your blouse is so pretty. Don't bother about anything, you're just fine as you are. Paresh is a very simple chap in any case, he's not fussy. You'll find him easy to please, unlike your boss, eh? Heh heh heh. Okay, he'll be out in two minutes.

Okay, old chap, you are all set, and here, I’ve got something for you to take some rubbers. With these you don’t catch anything. After all, who knows about these immoral women, today they'll sleep with you, tomorrow with anybody off the streets. They’re real bitches, yaar, they don't deserve our respect or trust. Just love them and leave them so they know that it's our world and its we that wear the pants. Oh, they may moan and cry but believe me they are gagging for it. They can’t get enough of it. Its our generosity that give them some meaning in life, otherwise what are they? Just bitches, yaar, that's all these women are. Be nice to her today so she’s yours for the next five days, free of charge! Women don't like being treated badly at first but later they enjoy the suspense and the hurt and agony, the deeper you hurt them the more they come back. Can you respect such creatures? Love them and leave them but always wear a rubber, that’s my motto.

Now off you go, have a good time and don't forget to give me a, hehe, blow by blow account. Here let me give you a tip. Tell her how unhappy you are, nobody understands you and that you are nursing a broken heart. Get a couple of tears in your eyes and she'll offer you her hanky. At that time take her hand and say, for the first time I'm met someone who understands me, why am I so captivated by you? I think I'm in love with you. After that you just don't need to worry. The speed is amazing after that, yaar.

One day I'll show you the list of women I've managed to get into the sack. All I had to say was, nobody understands me. Never fails, old man, never. Now out you go. And when I come to the States don't forget that you owe me an equally good time. I like those broads with their long legs and fair skins. Oh, I can't wait, yaar, I am not too keen on the silicon jobs though, squeeze too hard and they burst!

Oh, that reminds me. I almost forgot the contract ! Yes, that's all done. Everything is signed stamped and ready. All you have to do is to put your signature on the dotted line. I've done my bit. Now it's your turn. Yes, right here. Good. That’s done now, man, now we are in business. See you, have a good time and call me if you run out of rubber. I'll send it across, in a brown-paper envelope, surrounded by papers and files. Now off you go.

Yes, Miss Pereira, you may go. And remember that Paresh is important to our company, not merely as a friend but more, much more. You don't know what he has done for me, and how valuable he is as a client.

Go on now, out you get. See India in it's true colours, yaar, get a true taste of India. You will find doing business with us a real pleasure. Her first name? Let me think, yes, now I remember, its Mary.

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