Stories Varied - A Book of Short Stories - BS Murthy (freda ebook reader .txt) 📗
- Author: BS Murthy
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‘What a touch!’ he began marveling at it. ‘Wonder how it still lingers! Why Kiara has been no less a woman. Surely there is something in Diya’s flesh and blood specially meant for my bodily needs. Going by her reaction, there could be an element in my body chemistry that catalyzes her arousal.”
As he turned his head towards her, as if for confirmation, her demeanour suggested that she too was thinking on similar lines.
“Rishaan isn’t the scenery uniquely different?” said Kiara ecstatically
“Yes, yes,” he said fumbling.
“But the soul of Goa is in its beaches,” said Diya.
“So, I’m a lost soul’ said Kiara in jest.
“Why so?” said Diya.
“I have water phobia.” said Kiara.
“What about our Kiara-half?” said Diya drawling on our.
“Wait until we reach the beach,’ he said turning his head, “and what about you?”
“You know I’m a Goan-girl, I mean woman,” she said drawling on woman.
When they reached Diya’s place to her parents’ elaborate welcome, Diya motioned the guests upstairs, saying smilingly, ‘you are welcome to carry your bag and baggage’. After ushering them into the sprawling guestroom, she showed them her modest bedroom. When they went downstairs freshened up, they were feasted with fresh seafood to satiate their palates. Resting for a while, the trio rushed to Candolim Beach, reaching which, they began walking on the sands, Kiara keeping her feet dry as Rishaan and Diya wetted theirs.
However, as the sun began to set, they joined Kiara to savour the tinned beer they brought along with them in the twilight. And as it became dark, they began their walk back to where it started and in the manner it began, Kiara on the dry beach and the longing on the wet bed. Under the cover of darkness and away from Kiara’s forward gaze, when Rishaan tentatively brushed his shoulder with Diya’s, she firmly leaned on his. As he grasped her hand, they walked hand in hand, letting their fingers convey their urge without their uttering a word of endearment
After a refreshing bath and a couple of Fenis, they all had a sumptuous dinner followed by a long chit-chat with the old couple. It was near midnight when Diya wished her guests good night and retired into her bedroom. While a tipsy Kiara hit the pillow straight away, as sleep deserted the lovesick Rishaan, he went into the corridor accompanied by expectancy. As the light was off in Diya’s room, he went up to the door to see if it was ajar, and finding it locked, he returned to in his bed to grapple with a sleepless night.
With a surging urge to touch Diya, in spite of a disturbed sleep, Rishaan got up early, and after breakfast, the trio proceeded to old Goa to see its heritage churches. When they reached Basilica of Bom Jesus, while Kiara was struck by its architectural splendor, Rishaan, in spite of it, could not take his eyes off Diya. After loitering in and around it for a while, as Diya led them into the sprawling compound of Sé Catedral of Goa that lay across the road, Kiara preferred to stay put to watch the Basilica from afar. As that gave the lovebirds a free reign in the Catedral, they entered into it hand in hand and roamed all over with waists in hand, without uttering a word at that. On their stroll back to Kiara, when Diya tumbled to the ground on purpose, as Rishaan began caressing her legs to her delight, she dropped her pallu to feast his eyes.
Back home, they had bellyful, and after siesta the three reached Baga Beach. Even as Rishaan bared his chest and kicked off his pants, Diya stumped him by shedding her long dress to appear in a light brown swimsuit. What with the sight of her bare thighs surging his libido, he looked at Kiara in embarrassment, but finding her looking at the objects of his attraction, he augmented their attention. While Kiara rested on the beachside bed, the eager duo ventured into the waters to begin their offshore adventure. Resurfacing far off from Kiara much later, hand in hand, they lay side by side with sideways-eyes, till darkness drew a curtain between them. Finally, as if signaling a desire to exit and showing direction for entry, in the same vein, Diya raised her long and shapely legs into the air.
After drinks and dinner, as they were about to call it a day, sensing Kiara might turn amorous, winking at Diya, Rishaan feigned sleepy.
Past midnight, when Kiara was fast asleep, as he tiptoed into the corridor, he was greeted by a light beam flashing through Diya’s bedroom door that was ajar. When he tentatively peeped into the room, waiting by the door side, as she firmly pulled him into her embrace, he knew it would be an enduring thing. As he was about to compliment her for her ingenious welcome, she sealed his lips with hers as if to suggest that in their amour, pulsations of passion would override the words of adoration. After a deep kiss that nearly choked him, she closed the door to open her body and soul to him, and began to undress herself. Not wanting to suffer the presence of even a shred of clothing in their naked togetherness, he too entered the race to the state of nudity. As they fondled each other in their full-length embrace, they came to exclaim in unison, ‘what a touching thing!’ With the one-upmanship they showed in indulging with passion thereafter, a gratified Cupid felt obliged to grant them multiple orgasms.
“I love you Rishaan, body and soul,” said Diya, resting on his hairy chest.
“Doubt if touch was ever the touchstone of love.” he said fondling her shapely back.
“How true, had you not held my hand in the flight, I wouldn’t have been lying here fulfilled in love.”
“So, touch is the mother of our desire and fulfillment the father of our love,”
“What if Kiara comes to know?” she said suddenly waking up to the reality of life.
“She won’t take it kindly, that’s for sure.”
“Where that would leave me?”
“In case of vacancy, you will be my wife.”
“If not, though I wish not.”
“That depends on you?”
“I don’t mind being the other woman.” she said falling into his arms crying. “I can’t live without you, hope you don’t leave me.”
“I feel our unique touch has sealed our fate once and for all.”
“An assuring thing in a touchy affair.” she said feeling reassured.
“You’ve put it so well really?”
“No one-upmanship for once,” she said initiating an encore.
When Rishaan slipped into the room, finding Kiara in deep sleep, he heaved a sigh of relief only to find himself in soup the next morning.
“Why these?” said Kiara feeling the bruises on his body.
“Don’t you see they are love bites?”
“Have we made love these days?”
“You can count twice as many on Diya’s.”
“Oh, you goddamn cheat.”
“Sorry for the hurt Kiara,” he said trying to take her into his arms.
“Do I deserve this Rishaan?” she said pushing him away.
“We couldn’t avoid it.”
“Okay, let bygones be bygones,” she said gravely.
“We’ve just begun,” he said dreamily.
“So be it, put an end to it, now and here,” she said sounding firm.
“You know there can’t be ready solutions for these,” he said pleadingly.
“Good bye then.”
“Don’t go by knee-jerk reaction,” he said persuasively, “let’s sort it out, by and by.”
“Go to hell.” she screamed. “With her I mean.”
When that Air India’s Boeing took off from Dabolim Airport, while Rishaan sat beside Diya, who occupied the window seat, two rows behind, a brooding Kiara was in an aisle seat.
‘Now there is no point in forcing him to choose between Diya and me as I’m bound to be the loser?’ she thought in resolution. “Why not I let his passion for Diya satiate itself? Don’t they say man always goes back to his wife in the end? Meanwhile, why not I make the best of a bad bargain? It’s sensible really.”
With 20 minutes still remaining for the flight to land, Kiara walked up the aisle to request the man sitting beside Rishaan for a swap of their seats. As he readily obliged, even as Diya clung on to Rishaan’s right hand, Kiara sat beside him holding his left hand.
Tuhin A. Sinha’s prompt [*]
Story 7
Love’s How’s That?
It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi Airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold.
I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend’s wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. The wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batchmates. But what I didn’t know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter.
I was almost sure it was she. Same height! Same long hair! Same complexion! Curiosity had my eyes glued to her. And then about 60-odd seconds later, when she turned, she proved me right. My ex-girlfriend stood two places ahead of me in that queue. We had never met after the college farewell. [*]
Her face bore the same tinge of sadness that drew me towards her then; maybe a shade or two deeper than before; and certainly more attractive for that than ever. But when our eyes met, as if stirred by her soul, her whole frame got animated. While I stood rooted, unable to take my eyes off her, she gave way to the couple behind her in the queue. When it was our turn to obtain boarding passes, she took hold of my ticket and opted for two seats aside a window. And it was only when we rejoined in the lounge, after going through our separate ways for the security check, that she opened her mouth.
“What a pleasant surprise it is Mohan,” she said extending her hand.
“More so for the accompanying privacy,” I said unable to hide my joy, grabbing her hand.
“I suppose you are going to attend Madhu’s wedding,” she said in all anticipation.
“Now that we’ve met, won’t I walk in your tracks,” I said smilingly.
“Why didn’t you bring your wife along?” she said.
“I don’t know of any ‘wife for hire’ in Delhi, do you?” I said jocularly.
“So, I got the wrong feed then,” she said with an apparent relief that surprised me.
She led me towards a row of vacant seats, and occupying one, she reclined in it as if to demonstrate her state of mind. Sitting beside her, I felt that portended a major turn of events in my life.
“What about your man? I said tentatively.
“Tell me if you know of any ‘husband on hire’ for a divorcee,” she said pointedly.
“I’m sorry,” I said with mixed feelings.
“What for, is it because I’m a divorcee or you can’t find a husband for me?” she said in jest.
“Jokes apart, if I may know, what went wrong?” I said concernedly.
“You may have to wait for that as I can’t complete my story before we board the plane and I can’t continue that in the earshot any,” she said and walked towards the toilets.
When Rathi joined our class midway in B.A pre-final at Hindu College, it was no capital moment for she didn’t cause any sensation on the campus. Yet the elusive charm of her supple frame induced a mild commotion in my heart and with that tinge of sadness on her face began to seep into my soul, I came to develop a crush on her. But as she chose to ignore the emanations of my fascination
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