Saturday, July 18, 2009


I kiss her into her bedroom.

Aunty is not at home. It’s not the regular closing time. Yet the shutters are down. Sneha has the permission to pull them down whenever Aunty isn’t there. After all she is an attractive young girl in her days of bloom. And every mother of an attractive young girl in her days of bloom is worried about leaving her alone, directly exposed to millions of scanner eyes and lusty proposals. In cliché terms, keep a freshly blossomed bud within the range of countless hungry male bees.

But, even the strongest of pesticide can’t stop a king bee from entering into a flower. Larger the bee, larger the thirst. Larger the thirst, larger the fervour.

I had woken up late due to overdrinking at last night’s booze bash. I had woken up once at my usual hour. But I crashed down again realising its worthlessness. I woke up later and found it worthless again. I was about to crash again but I resisted it out of shame. I stood up. Had a wash and left for late brunch to Aunty’s. A permanent feeling of worthlessness had gripped me completely as I walked towards Aunty’s place. This wasn’t the first time I was feeling this. But this was the first time I was feeling this when I was alone. I did have people around me. But I hadn’t felt the feeling of belonging to any one of them. I was all alone in this dark hole.

All I needed was a shoulder to rest my head on. A shoulder which could soak up my dry sniffles in it. A shoulder which could comfort my ache. A shoulder which could glue me to itself.

I reached Aunty’s café. I saw Sneha alone at the counter. She had worn a crimson Ganji. Her chest open and her shoulders bare. Their glaze stood out prominently over the crimson darkness of her top. Her nipples stood out as two dark dots on her chest. The café was unusually crowded today.

I stared at them as I walked to her. I wanted to touch them. Feel their softness. To slide my fingers over their smoothness. Maybe to touch them with my lips. Or even dig my teeth into them. Lust at times, remains a male’s only way out from pain.

A stand before her looking into her eyes.

“Aunty?” I ask.
“Not at home!” She replies with a wicked look in her eyes.
“Now?” I ask.

“Afternoon” she says making a sandwich for me. She knows my taste. “She will return at night!”, she pushes the sandwich into my hands approaching to touch hers and bends over the counter to take a closer look at my face. I get a closer look of her ripening cleavage.


She pulls down the shutter. I enter from the back door. Her shoulders and her cleavage is on my mind since the moment she had lifted herself back to straightness.
It had filled my mind. I had not for a moment thought of Apu’s loss but instead what occupied my mind was gaining Sneha.

People with High Moral Stand Please Refrain from reading this part. It is an excellent example of Pornographic Literature.

The moment she closed the door, I entered into a lip lock with her. I had kissed her in a violent excitement. She returned it voraciously. I had assaulted her with my lust. And she was bathing herself in it. My hands held her by her arms tightly without letting her move. I made her walk my steps. I knew the place well. And I knew what was where. My hands reached for her shoulders and began caressing them. Her hands wrapped my shoulders and pulled me closer.

I kissed her all the way into their bedroom. I pushed her on the bed. I lay there with closed eyes awaiting my arrival. I crouched over her and kissed her fervent cleavage, about to spill out of her low neck. The softness felt by my lips urged them to explore those blooming bosoms more. I kissed her endlessly on the smooth skin of her chest. I went on kissing to the covered parts of her breast and found their peaks jutting out of the cloth over them. I kissed them gently. She twisted with a moan. Her fingers running through my hair suddenly held them tight for a moment and began caressing them again.

I trapped her between my legs and I rose to sit on my knees. I pulled off my T-Shirt and reclined over her again, this time attacking her shoulders. He bosom kept rubbing on my chest as I attempted to swallow her shoulders. One of her Ganji straps had slipped off her shoulder when I had began kissing her, revealing her gleaming shoulder and a bit oversized for a teenager breasts, which had tempted me to eat her more.

I kissed ceaselessly over the shoulder, upon the neck, down the chest and up her lovely jigs. My hand crawled upto their perfect roundness and pressed them softly. She moaned again. I pressed them again. A bit harder than the last time and she moaned louder.

I went kissing lower and kissed her belly in the gap between her Ganjis and her pyjamas. I pushed her Ganjis up and kissed delicately on her navel. She shuddered on the touch of my lips. I pushed up her top further and rubbed my cheeks on her belly. She held my hair tight pulling me upwards. I pushed her top over her hillocks carefully as if I was unwrapping a gift paper without tearing it.

Women always hold the power to surprise men. Whoever they may be. And surprise them more if they are known men. Sneha, like every other woman possessed it too. As I rolled up her Ganjis to her shoulders, a surprise struck me hard in my face. On a dark cloth suspended by two thin laces were two parts of a heart on each breast, supported by the ‘elegant’ designs that a lingerie is supposed to have. Two roughly cut parts of a bright red valentine heart. It looked like the designer or whomsoever had torn it and placed the two pieces on each of her breast. If it had been better, I could have called it ridiculous. But it was not.

She caught me staring dumbfounded at the intriguing design and said,

The word suddenly rang hard in my ears.


“That’s the name of the design. Heartbreak!”

It’s next utterance hit me like a blow. I remained steadfast in the position I was staring at it. Sneha, with a smart bend in her knees, slid herself down and bring her face to the level of my eyes.

“What?!...Haven’t seen a bra before?” She asked smiling with ‘gotchya!’ look on her face. She was too happy about the trick that she just played. And I was engrossed with the word she had just spoken.

I tried to shake myself out of my reverie. She wrapped me in her arms and turned me around. I freed myself from her arms and pushed myself back to sit up, reclining on the curve of their bed. I was loosing my hardness.

“Oh!...Revenge?” she said and crouched over me with new vehemence. She began kissing me from my navel and moved upwards towards my chest. In normal circumstances, this would have provoked me the most. But today it didn’t create even a slightest of tremor in me. She placed countless kisses on my chest. I sat there stoned. She took my nipples in her teeth and sucked them. But I sat numb. She took her final step. Rubbing her bosom on mine, she approached to kiss me. I felt the pieces of heart rubbing on my chest. The work reverberated once again in me. Heartbreak!

Some thing had started growing within me when she had spoken that word. It burst inside me now. My heart filled with Aparna’s thoughts. The longing, the craving, the moments, the memories and the parting. Where is Apu?

Sneha reached for my lips with hers and began sucking them. I just responded mechanically, moving my jaw. She slid her hand down my chest, across the belly into my pants. She thrust it into my undies and reached for what she was looking for.

Men too at times have the ability of surprising women. She looked at me in disbelief.

“Anay??” She asked in a horrid tone.
“Lost it!” I said.

Innocent guilt appeared on her face. She opened my pants in a scurry, pulled down my underwear and began stroking my organ to bloat it up.

“Don’t Sneha…” I stopped her. “Won’t help…”

My words froze her movements. She dolefully left moved aside and sat a feet away from me. She folded her hands and bent her head in sorrow and shame. The guilt had got over her.

People with High Moral Stand can resume reading from this part. The Pornographic Literature ends here.

I sat there helpless staring meaninglessly at the bedsheet. I pulled up my undies like the white cloth that is pulled up a over an unidentified corpses to cover up its unpleasantness. I zipped and buttoned my pants. I looked up something met my eye.

There was a large picture of Krishna on the wall opposite to me. A Krishna standing near a cow playing his flute. He didn’t look out of the picture towards his devotee. He instead looked at something inside it. At some vague point. Somewhere on the ground or the river close by. He stared at it intensely. If he had been real, one could have seen tears gathering up in his eyes. I went closer top see if his eyes were moist. I raised my hand tried to touch his eyes. The glass kept me off from touching his eyes. But I knew that he was weeping. I moved back and sat on the bed staring at him. Sneha snuggled up besides me like a kitten, staring at the picture with me.

From where I stood I could get a clear view of the picture again. And it is from here that I realised, there is supposed to be a Radha in the picture.

Krishna was alone. The space besides him, reserved for Radha was empty. Entire picture looked sad without her. It looked unbearably gloomy. Because Krishna was without Radha.