by Vasudhendra
Finally, tired of waiting, Mohanaswamy curled up on the bare floor in front of Karthik’s room. He lay wakeful in that position for the rest of the night, wallowing in self-pity. Finally, at the crack of dawn, he caught some sleep, a sickly sleep fraught with bad dreams.
When Karthik woke up, it was 7 a.m. He stretched his arms only to realize Mohanaswamy was not there next to him. He switched on his mobile phone. Six messages flowed in – five from Mohanaswamy which he deleted without even reading and the sixth from Rashmi, saying, ‘Good morning, sweetheart’. ‘How can my morning be good without you?’ he texted her back and came out of the room, yawning and stretching.
When he saw Mohanaswamy sleeping on the cold floor, a wave of tenderness filled him and he felt sorry. ‘I shouldn’t have behaved so badly last night,’ he muttered. Sitting next to him, he caressed Mohanaswamy’s hair, bent over and kissed him lightly on his cheek.
Mohanaswamy slowly opened his eyes and asked, ‘What’s the time, Karthi?’
‘There is still a lot of time. You better sleep. Today I will go and get milk and make coffee for you,’ Karthik said, caressing his cheeks.
‘No, no, you don’t know how to boil milk, you will spill it over,’ Mohanaswamy said and tried to get up.
‘Shush! Idiot, sleep quietly. I will wake you up after the coffee is ready,’ Karthik commanded, pushing him back to the floor.
Mohanaswamy smiled meekly, even as his eyes shone with happiness.
‘Now don’t smile, just sleep,’ Karthik chided him.
Mohanaswamy took Karthik’s hand and placed it on his chest, still smiling. Karthik slowly withdrew his hand, patted his cheek and walked towards the door to go out.
‘Do you still love me?’ Mohanaswamy asked, catching a glimpse of Karthik’s tall masculine frame at the door.
‘Shhhh!’ Karthik put his finger to his mouth and said authoritatively, ‘No talking. Just sleep until I’m back.’ He winked mischievously at Mohanaswamy and stepped out of the house, shutting the door behind.
Mohanasawmy’s day was made. Lying still on the floor, he thanked Krishna in his heart.
As Karthik ran down the stairs, his mobile beeped. Rashmi had texted back: ‘In that case, come flying to me, my dear. We can be together for the entire day.’ Karthik was thrilled. By the time he reached the milk booth, he had decided, ‘After making coffee, I will take the first flight to Mumbai.’
Mohanaswamy gave the engagement ceremony a miss on the pretext of office work. Karthik too didn’t insist that he attend. But Shobha aunty and her husband were quite upset. ‘You are his best friend, how could you not come?’ they asked. Many of Karthik’s friends, who went to Mumbai to attend the function, had called him up to know why he wasn’t there. Mohanaswamy grew tired of their nagging. He decided to attend the wedding ceremony just to avoid such unsavoury questions.
Meanwhile, Karthik stopped coming home. After office hours, he would go to Shobha aunty’s house and stay over. When he met Mohanaswamy, he would say he was busy with the preparations for the wedding. Mohanaswamy was vexed as he received no responses to his repeated messages. Sometimes he would text Karthik, ‘Are you doing okay? I don’t want anything else. Just message me and let me know that you are doing fine. That’s enough for me.’ To this, if he was lucky, he would get a reply: ‘I am doing fine. But busy’. This would make Mohanaswamy feel happy and light-hearted for a day. Perhaps Karthi is really busy. Getting married is not a joke. So much preparation goes into it. I know he is not the kind to ignore me, Mohanaswamy would console himself.
Sometimes he would prepare Karthik’s favourite dishes. ‘Today I have made bitter gourd curry. I know you love it. Please come home for dinner,’ he would text Karthik. As usual there would be no reply. Still, Mohanaswamy would wait up for him. Finally, he would go to bed without eating.
One time Shobha aunty’s house was full of guests and there was no place for Karthik to sleep. So, much to Mohanaswamy’s delight, Karthik came home. A thrilled Mohanaswamy hovered around him with a spring in his step, talking about this and that, enthusiastically recounting the incidents that had taken place in Karthik’s absence. But a stifling silence descended on the house when they switched off the lights and went to bed. Should I touch him or not? Mohanaswamy pondered. Bitter memories made him jittery.
Karthik was sleeping on his stomach, baring his back. The sight of his burly buttocks made Mohanaswamy’s knees go weak. Flames of desire shot through him. His resolve fizzled out and lust got the better of his fears. He slowly placed his hand on Karthik’s head. Then he ran his fingers over his bare back. There was no response.
‘Maunam sammati lakshanam’ – silence indicates agreement, he assumed. He slid his hands further down to his lower spine and began caressing gently.
And that was it! Karthik was incandescent with rage. He rose at once, grabbed Mohanaswamy’s forearm and twisted it violently. Mohanaswamy shrieked out in pain. Annoyed further by his screams, Karthik twisted his smarting hand again. ‘Stop it, Karthi, please stop it. Leave my hand, my bones will break,’ Mohanaswamy pleaded pathetically. He couldn’t do anything else apart from begging for mercy. He couldn’t think of hitting him back, not even in his wildest dreams. ‘Bolimagane, if you touch me again, I will chop your hands off!’ Karthik shouted vehemently, stormed out of the house and went away on his bike.
Mohanaswamy was absolutely flabbergasted. Wincing with pain, he vowed not to touch Karthik again. ‘Krishna, with you as my witness, I take an oath. I will never ever touch that rogue in my life. I will not even talk to him. Forget talking, I will not even think about him.’
His right hand hurt like hell the next day. He took leave from office and sat at home – alone, applying oil on his hand and sobbing. He thought of going to a doctor, but later decided against it because if the doctor asked how it happened, he would be in a fix. A simple ‘sorry’ message from Karthik would have soothed his wounds, but no such miracle took place. Suddenly, he was reminded of Shobha aunty. Perhaps she would understand his agony. ‘I want to speak to you,’ he messaged her. ‘Sure. But not today. I am busy. Will speak tomorrow,’ she replied. By evening, he thought it was ridiculous to tell her all that transpired between him and Karthik. He would only be making a fool of himself. He could share his pain with only one person – Lord Krishna.
‘When shall we speak?’ Shobha aunty sent a message with a smiley the next day. He didn’t reply. She sent another text. Her inquisitiveness irked Mohanaswamy. ‘Sorry, Aunty, it’s nothing so important. Will tell you when we meet next,’ he texted her and heaved a sigh of relief. ‘As you wish. It was you who wanted to talk after all,’ she sent a sarcastic message with an angry emoji.
For the next three days, Mohanaswamy didn’t call or text Karthik. He decided he was never going to talk to him again. But the fourth day was 25 August. It was Karthik’s birthday. All these years, they had celebrated his birthday together. Every year Karthik would book a room in a grand hotel to spend the night in a special way. Mohanaswamy would buy valuable gifts for him. So, how could he ignore Karthik on this occasion? Mohanaswamy found his mind wavering. He decided to buy a gift for him. I will go meet Karthi, hand over the gift and come back immediately. Then I will not think about him from tomorrow. I will not even talk to him. If he talks to me, that’s different. Just because he twisted my hand in a fit of rage, I cannot sever my relations with him. If I blow this trivial issue out of proportion, even Krishna will not appreciate it. After all, my Karthi is not all that bad, he told himself.
He went to several malls in the city and finally chose an expensive shirt, a pair of branded trousers, a tie and innerwear and got them gift-wrapped. He then waited outside Karthik’s office with the present in his hand. Mohanaswamy saw Karthik’s Bajaj Pulsar parked outside. He mentally prepared himself to walk away after handing over the gift and never interfere in his life thereafter.
Karthik came out at 6 p.m., but he was not alone. There was a woman with him. He had his arms around her
shoulder. It was none other than his fiancée, Rashmi. The moment Mohanaswamy realized it, his legs began quivering. They walked over to the bike together. Karthik combed his hair looking into the bike mirror. Rashmi patted his head affectionately. He then put on his helmet and she helped him fasten its belt. He said something at which she gave a light pat on his back. Karthik pretended as if he was hurt. Rashmi’s smile was bright like lightning-flashes. Karthik looked at her in adoration. When he started the bike, she sat astride, holding him tightly from the behind with one hand and placing another hand on his thigh. Karthik leaned back and she rested her face on his shoulder. As Mohanaswamy looked on, they whizzed past the traffic ahead.
Mohanaswamy stood still. He felt dead on his feet and had no energy to go home. The gift pack lay limp in his hands. Overcome by an utter sense of defeat, he sat on the kerbstone for a long time, grieving. Finally, he gathered himself and got up to go. On his way home, he saw a beggar by the roadside. He walked up to him, dropped the gift pack into his hands and walked off quickly.
There was a big crowd of people at the wedding hall. Laughter and chatter filled the air as young and beautiful girls and boys walked around, flaunting their finery. Children were busy running around, squealing with joy. Disciplinarian elders were seen giving pep talks to vainglorious youths. Karthik’s friends were teasing him. Karthik was dismissing and encouraging them in turn with his smiles and mock frowns.
Amidst all this garish happiness, Mohanaswamy feared he may break into tears any moment. Krishna, please dry these tears. Don’t belittle me by making me cry in front of all these people, Mohanaswamy prayed earnestly.
‘Why are you so quiet today?’ some friends came and asked him.
‘I am not feeling well,’ he said, trying to avoid them.
‘Why are you so dull? How will the wedding take place without you?’ Shobha aunty also came and asked.
‘The wedding will anyway take place aunty, whether I am there or not there,’ he said, feeling empty within.
‘Sometimes it is very difficult to understand you, Mohana,’ Shobha aunty said and patted his head.
In the meantime, Karthik was introducing all his friends to Rashmi. Rashmi looked resplendent in a green silk sari. She was affable and graceful, speaking to everyone pleasantly, cracking jokes and lapping up all the attention. When his desire was the same as hers, how could the entire world support her this openly, putting her on a pedestal? Mohanaswamy could not help but wonder. But if I, even by the slip of my tongue, speak of my desires to the people gathered here, they will fling me to the ground and beat me to death, he thought.
Karthik came looking for Mohanaswamy. ‘Did you have some snacks? Why are you sitting here alone?’ he asked, showing concern. Then pointing to him, he asked Rashmi, ‘Can you guess who this is?’
‘Ummm…’ Rashmi thought for a while and said, ‘Mohanaswamy, right?’
‘Yes,’ said Mohanaswamy instantly.
She clapped her hands in glee. ‘Karthik keeps talking about you so much that I sometimes envy you. At least ten times a day he remembers you. Mohana said this, Mohana said that … He goes on and on about you…’ she said with a laugh.
‘No, Mohana, she is lying. I never speak so much about you,’ Karthik said curtly.
‘See, already you have started lying to me. Men will be men after all!’ she chided Karthik and turning to Mohanaswamy, she said, ‘You please don’t cultivate vices like him. Please be nice to women.’ Mohanaswamy nodded his head. Just then Rashmi’s friend called her. ‘Excuse me,’ Rashmi said and left.
Mohanaswamy shook Karthik’s hand and said, ‘Your selection is just too good, Karthik. You’re a lucky man. Congrats.’
‘Thanks, Mohana. Your saying it makes it very special for me,’ Karthik said, placing his hand on Mohanaswamy’s shoulder.
More guests came in. Rashmi’s father was very rich. He had spent lavishly – after all, she was his only daughter. As the muhurtam, the auspicious hour, approached, the wedding hall resonated with Vedic hymns. Rashmi and Karthik religiously followed the priest’s instructions. Then the band began playing the wedding music and Rashmi showered a handful of akshata – rice grains mixed with vermillion and turmeric – on Karthik’s head. Karthik too put the akshata on her head.
After the ceremony, the crowd broke into different groups again. Shobha aunty picked a handful of rice grains from the floor and walked towards Karthik’s friends who were standing in a group, chatting. ‘It is said that on whoever’s head this akshata is put, they will get married soon. They will get a good-looking bride. So tell me, who wants it first?’ she asked jovially.
The boys jostled against one another to get the rice grains showered on their head. ‘Put little more, Aunty,’ some boys pleaded.
‘If I put more, it’s not like you will get two wives. Instead you will get one big fat wife!’ Shobha aunty said, laughing at her own joke. Then her eyes fell on Mohanaswamy. ‘Why are you standing aloof? Come, I will put rice grains on you,’ she said, advancing towards him.
‘No, Aunty, no, I don’t want it,’ he replied.
But the other boys pushed him towards her and said, ‘Put akshata on him, Aunty. He wants to escape from marriage, that’s not done.’
‘No, Aunty, no, please, I beg you!’ Mohanaswamy pleaded.
But Shobha aunty did not listen. She succeeded in showering the rice on his head.
‘Hey!’ All the boys screamed.
Mohanaswamy simply couldn’t bear it. He ran from there, pushing his way through the crowd, as a searing pain shot through him. He felt as though the rice grains on his head were burning his hair, his skin, muscles and his heart. The imaginary stench of burning hair nauseated him. Feeling bilious, he ran out from the hall like a bat out of hell. There was a heap of stinking garbage by the roadside. He sat beside the heap and began dusting the rice grains off his head. The foul smell emanating from the garbage pile assailed his nostrils. He threw up everything he had eaten since morning. He puked and puked till water began streaming out of his nostrils. Then, sitting beside that stinking garbage heap, a stinking Mohanaswamy burst into sobs and moaned aloud. There was no one around to console him. Back at the wedding hall, everyone was busy congratulating the newlyweds.
It was Karthik and Rashmi’s first night. Mohanaswamy lay curled up in bed, but couldn’t sleep. He fantasized Karthik copulating with Rashmi. He pictured them together, devouring each other’s bodies with intermittent moans of pleasure and peals of laughter. Now Karthik has dedicated himself to her – all that he has is hers. Every particle of his body is now her property.
Why should I even think of all this? Why these voyeuristic instincts? No, I should not imagine all these things. It’s his personal life. His passions, his desires belong to him alone!
And yet, he pictured Karthik being mesmerized by Rashmi’s full breasts. He is holding them in his hands, fondling and caressing with insatiable desire. She has swept him off his feet. And now, how he is enjoying her, once tenderly, once roughly, and once…
No please, no. Let these images disappear from my mind! I want to sleep. I don’t want him to come in my dreams. I don’t want to touch him again, never in my life. I don’t even want to think about him. Oh … look there, he is bathing her in kisses. He isn’t repulsed upon touching any part of her body with his tongue. She is groaning, in ecstasy, in the frenzy of her orgasm. Now Karthik knows that she is the real, unalloyed gold. And all these days, what he considered gold was not genuine, it was fake. No, Karthik, no. Please don’t do that. You are being unfair to me. I hate you. Please don’t treat me like an insect!
With his face buried in her cunt, he will never keep any secrets from her. It’s just a matter of a day or two. He will blurt out everything about me, my pervert and filthy ways. ‘How silly!’ he will laugh. She will be startled, disgusted. You silly creature, you have fallen in her eyes. Now, whenever she sees you, she will burst into laughter and Karthik will join in. She will tell everyone around and they wil
l start laughing and scoffing at you. Vile jokes and laughter will follow in your wake wherever you go. You will diminish by the day and ultimately reduce into nothingness. They will only want to swat you, to get rid of the irritation.
No, no, please don’t do that to me! I too want to live. Just give me a chance. I want to stay away from this madness. It’s driving me crazy. It gives me nothing but pain. I will simply live, without sex. Eating, working and sleeping, that’s it. Just leave me to myself. I will abstain from this infernal sex. I will win over it.
Oh, you fool, don’t think of ways that are implausible. You say you will defy lust? Just feel the excitement that surges through you as you picture his naked body. Just one smile from him is enough to shake your determination. His manly gait is enough to enslave you. You only deserve to wait on him, to be at his beck and call, to get beaten up, to get kicked, to get scolded and to wallow in servitude. And then to wait eternally for that one fine day when he will come and touch you with love… You will keep waiting for that one moment. You will go on chasing him and end up frustrated. You will pine for him. You will grieve his absence. But no one will understand your grief. You will become the butt of their jokes. Your father, mother, sister, friends, colleagues, teachers, servants, society, office, court and the entire world – no one will accept or forgive you. You have fallen in their eyes. No one will pity you.
No, I don’t want anything. I just want to sleep. Krishna, I have loved you with my heart, I have adored you. Don’t give such a harsh punishment to your gopabala. Save me! I am drowning, save me, hold my arms and lift me up. And if you don’t want me to live, kill me now, this very moment. No one will cry over my death, not even my family. I don’t know why you brought this pain to me. What sin did I commit that warrants this pain?