‘This cowboy’s story is so much fun... One day when I grow up, I too shall ride on a black stallion and save the people around me with my long lasso and steel gun. Then I shall ride away across the desert sands just like a hero...’
Onni liked the comic book so much that he carried it to school that day. The bell rang and the classes began.
‘Good morning, teacher,’ rumbled the class.
Ms. Tadiwala walked in giving the 2 nd Standard students the biggest grin ever. It stretched from ear to ear and exposed pearly whites interspersed with some yellow ones. Her sari was always worn a little too high. Everyone around could see her socks with the worn-out elastic. ‘Do you like my leather sandals with the ugly gold fittings and the bad repair work done on them?’ she seemed to be asking in silence.
‘1...’
‘Present, teacher!’
‘2...’
‘Present, teacher!’
‘3...’
‘Present, teacher!’
The roll call went on.
‘24...’
There was silence.
‘24?’
‘Pre... Present, teacher!’ Piu stammered.
Piu was Onni’s partner in school. They sat together through the entire day. This was not out of choice. All the children were made to sit according to their heights – the shorter ones in the front and the taller ones at the back. Onni and Piu were somewhere towards the end.
‘Why are you not paying attention?’ growled Ms. Tadiwala. ‘Teacher, Onni was showing me pictures, teacher...’ wailed Piu. The whole class was looking back at them. Onni hated the attention. A warm nervous feeling rushed through his ears.
‘What pictures was he showing you?’ Ms. Tadiwala said as she got up.
Piu stood up too. She held up the cowboy comic. The boy had brought the book to school to show everyone what he wanted to be like. Unable to contain his excitement, he had pulled out the book and was showing it off to Piu. The drawings in it were so perfect. He wanted to ride a charging black horse just like that. But right now that dream was being trampled upon by a charging Ms. Tadiwala. Onni was praying for divine intervention. Nothing happened and that monster of a teacher was at their desk.
Glowering at the two through her ominous spectacles, Ms. Tadiwala reached out for the comic book and flipped through it. Her lips broke into a smile as she looked at Onni. The boy was trying not to shake with fear.
‘Why have you brought this to school?’ she asked.
‘Teacher...’
‘Why have you brought this to school?’ she screamed.
Onni gulped down the rest of his answer.
‘You want to be a cowboy? No! You are just a cow. Disturbing the whole class and me... Just a cow! And cows don’t wear pants, right children?’ she turned around and asked the whole class.
‘So I’m going to remove your pants and make you stand in front of the class...’
Onni had seen her do this to others. Alas, today was his turn.
He wanted to be a valiant cowboy one day, and fight the bad villains all around. And for that he had to go through this. He had to fight Ms. Tadiwala first.
The teacher jumped on him and reached for his grey shorts. Immediately the little boy sat down on the bench and bringing his thighs close to his chest, tried to save himself from being shamed in front of all his friends and classmates. Everyone looked on in helpless silence.
Ms. Tadiwala was strong. He could feel her hands grope and find their way to the buttons on the front of his school shorts. Maa got his school uniforms ironed every day and he would crush them in various ways every day. Today, it was this ugly struggle with Ms. Tadiwala that would spoil his uniform.
‘How will I get my pants back if she takes them off?’
‘What will I say to everyone, standing in just my underwear?’
‘Why is teacher doing this to me?’
‘What would a cowboy do if anybody wanted to take his pants off?’
As her hands tried harder, he felt pain. He heard Ms. Tadiwala’s triumphant voice. ‘I’ve found the buttons, children. I’ve found the buttons!’
Onni could not take it anymore. As he tried his best, tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down. He did not want to cry. He did not want to show that he was weak. He had not done anything wrong. But his tears did what they wanted.
Little sniffles escaped out of the little boy as he tried to save himself from the hands of the class teacher who was supposed to look after him.
Suddenly, the battle ended. He held on, but Ms. Tadiwala’s grip eased. And she let go of him, making him fall in a slump at his desk.
‘Don’t ever bring outside books to class... Remember everyone!’
Piu sat frozen. The cowboy comic book lay on the desk, with its pages flying and turning. Onni wanted the classroom to go dark so that none of his friends would see him sobbing.
‘25...’ Ms. Tadiwala continued.
Twenty-one
Little did Onni know then that his cowboy dream was
going to continue. For real.
No, he was not riding a black stallion. Nor did he have a lasso and a gun. Those were the dreams of a seven year-old cowboy.
At twenty-one, this cowboy was riding Rita on Monday, Neha on Tuesday, Varsha on Wednesday, Zenia on Thursday, Rashmi on Friday and so on.
‘Eating is not really about eating… Sleeping is not really about sleeping.’ he had read in one of his favourite books. ‘That’s a nice line to quote! I don’t really eat Natasha when I’m eating her. And I can never actually sleep when I’m sleeping with Shreya.’
But all the women and his different lives with them was making his wallet lighter.
Little did he know that money was waiting for Onni on the way to college.
‘Cells multiplying through simple division must be so boring. There is no exchange of matter, of vital fluids, of enjoyment, through the conjugation with another cell.’ As Onni spoke, Rajesh listened with rapt attention. He was a junior, a protégé of Onni’s. In return for all the academic knowledge and the carnal knowhow, Rajesh let Onni use his rented bedroom many times with many women.
The two waited for their buses home.
‘There’s my bus. Will go now... Have some stuff to finish,’ said Onni, climbing into climbed into the crowded public transport. ‘Wonder where everyone is going at this hour.’
He squeezed in and made space for himself. With his small bag of books hanging on his back, he reached up with both his hands to grip the bar overhead. That narrowed the volume he would be taking up in the loaded bus.
‘Hey ladies, check out this chunk of masculinity...’ his posture seemed to say. ‘I’m a complete narcissist!’ he thought with a faint smile.
His jeans hung low on his waist. His white t-shirt was pulled up now with all the jostling. By the air that was brushing past his skin, he could tell that there must be a thin strip of skin showing before his jeans began.
‘Just like the geishas who expose a very thin line of skin at the neck to tantalise their clients…’ he thought to himself.
Hanging in the bus with his hands high up, he continued with the thought. ‘How would a real Japanese geisha feel here? Riding in a packed Mumbai bus, complete with her white painted face, the tiny red lips, her resplendent kimono and the small wooden sandals, against a backdrop of the most boringly clad everyday people... It would make a great sight!’
Just then, through the crowd of people, he saw a lady on a seat that was not far from him. ‘From Kyoto to Kala Ghoda, Onni is back.’
By the few white strands in her well-styled hair, he guessed that she could be in her late forties. He looked at her many times. She had a very attractive profile and by whatever little he could see of her form where he was, he saw she was dress
ed in green. ‘The Green Geisha – let’s call her that till I know her name...’ thought Onni. She was on the outer side, towards the aisle that was full of people.
Slowly, Onni had to keep moving with the crowd in the bus. And soon he was right next to The Green Geisha’s seat. The red stencil mark above said ‘Streeyaansatthi – FOR LADIES ONLY’. He would never think of sitting there. The other woman on the inner side by the window was older, much older. And valiantly, she gave Onni a ‘don’t-even-think-about-sitting-here’ look.
He could not keep his eyes from roving. ‘A very inviting cleavage, I must say!’ he thought as he stole a glance below at The Green Geisha. He had named her correctly. Everything on her was in a shade of green.
He stood there, close to her and wondered how he could see her face.
SCREECH!!!
The bus came to a jolting halt, powerfully jerking the crowd ahead. Onni tried to control and balance himself, but a hard push from behind made it happen... His nether-lands pushed hard against The Green Geisha’s shoulder.
He drew back. ‘Sorry... Very sorry about that one!’ the gentleman in him wanted to say. But she remained unaffected.
After a while, she casually turned and cast a glance at Onni. From his shoes to his face, she slowly moved. Halting when their eyes met, she gave him a blank stare. He didn’t know what was coming. In the blankness, he thought he saw something. Something he could not decipher.
The bus went on its route doing what it does every day. Collecting some, dropping some. Onni’s destination was still far and he waited. All this while he stood contemplating about what it was that The Green Geisha’s eyes were saying.
‘Let’s take it further...’
Onni could not believe what he was hearing.
‘She just got up, whispered to me in the most inaudible way and is now heading for the bus exit... She just got up, whispered to me in the most inaudible way and is now heading for the gates of the bus,’ he reran through his thoughts.
The bus stopped at a halt. And the lady in green got off. Ting-ting! And the bus was on its way again. Onni was still going through what he had heard.
‘Let’s take it further...’
He rushed and got off the bus.
Going back to the bus stop that was just left behind, he looked around. The Green Geisha was there.
‘Hey...’ he said in the most nonchalant and uninterested way he could. But he knew that he was interested and that is why he was here.
‘Hi,’ she said in a shrill voice. But did it matter?
‘Let’s take what further?’ he asked.
‘What you started in the bus.’
‘What did I start?’
‘You brushed against me and I liked it,’ she said with a smile. Onni could not believe that she had caught on to such a slight and accidental action. He was drawn in by her simple smile that hid a wicked imagination.
He smiled back. ‘It was an accident...’
‘Aaah, an accident that did not happen very accidentally, I guess from your smile,’ she added as he looked into her eyes.
‘There’s a nice place I know nearby, that is just right to take this accident ahead. Do you want to go there?’ she enquired nonchalantly. Onni was stunned by her candidness. ‘She obviously knows what she’s doing. And what have I got to lose?’ he pondered. Wanting to see where this would lead, he agreed.
Just a few short steps away, they turned. She led the way and Onni silently followed. ‘Should I take her to Rajesh’s place instead? Nah... That place is for a different set. What’s her name? Did she mention? Ummm... Let’s keep that for post-coital conversation. Would Arun approve of this if he came to know? Don’t know... We’ll see if the two of us ever meet again, I’ll ask him.’
There were many questions buzzing in his head. ‘Let them all wait till the right time,’ he decided.
Onni didn’t realise that swept away by these varied thoughts and blindly following The Green Geisha, he was now standing inside a huge cafeteria. They were escorted to their seats. ‘I can’t afford this place,’ he whispered frankly to The Green Geisha. ‘Soon you will be able to…’ she said.
Onni could make out that the lady’s bra was a pale green colour too.
‘And you said it’s the right place to take the accident ahead, right?’
‘Wait! You seem to be in a tearing rush to take your pants off. Guess your raging hormones are to blame, boy!’
‘Okay, you are the driver from here on!’ Onni smiled, a little ashamed. He picked up the menu card and looked into it with mock concentration.
‘Well, my name is Swati. You met me by accident. But from now on I can make sure that there are no more accidents in your life... Everything will be planned and made to happen the way we want.’
‘Hello, Swati... I’m Onni, Onniruddh Ray. Are you an insurance agent?’
Swati, The Green Geisha, laughed. ‘No! No! You’re getting me wrong. Onniruddh Ray? Bengali? Very intellectual catch, I must say to myself.’
She ordered a green tea and asked Onni if he wanted something.
‘No. And thanks,’ Onni picked up his bag and looked like he was ready to leave. Swati continued speaking to him nonetheless.
‘Onni, let me put it this way – Do you want to make money? Lots of money?’
The conversation was getting serious now. Onni raised his arms and folded them behind his head, trying to keep a very relaxed demeanour. Swati was judging his every move. She could not help but notice his well built biceps. Their bulges led her eyes to the hair peeping out from the short sleeves of the young man’s t-shirt.
Swati had two clear protuberances showing on the front of her tight green shirt. ‘Is she excited by me?’ Onni asked himself, trying hopelessly to keep his eyes away from them. Onni already believed that everyone committed the sin of lust.
‘So what will you pay me for?’
‘Not me, but my clients will. They will pay you for what you do with them...’ she said. The answer made Onni go blank.
‘Let’s get real, young man. If you have it, use it. The women I know and cater to have money and can pay well. The old and ugly husbands earn the cash and the sexy and young-at-heart wives spend it. Well, what do you have to lose? Except for a little bit of time and body fluid?’ she laughed.
‘What if I say no?’
‘Your choice... But why would you decline? You can choose the time when you want to be at work, you can choose the women you want to work with, and you can choose the money you make out of this. At your age, it’s good, easy money.’
Onni was sitting up straight and listening to what was being offered to him. He knew it was easy. It was like getting paid for what he was already doing. Many things came into his head... He needed to breathe in slowly. He needed to think wisely.
‘What do you get?’
‘A percentage...’
‘Will anybody know?’
‘None... Apart from you, me, and our clients...’
‘How do you know I’ll be good at this?’
‘I could feel your talent when you pressed against my shoulder in that bus,’ she explained.
Onni looked down at the table with an uncomfortable grin.
‘Don’t be embarrassed; remember it’s my business... I’m talking to you because I knew you would be great even without test-riding you,’ she winked.
Eight
T he ride that day was like the rides everyday – bumpy and noisy.
In the school bus, all the children tried to sit at the same places every day, just like they did at school.
The bus stopped and the door flung open. Onni got off on the pavement. His schoolbag hung behind him. Behind the school bag was Percy. And behind him was his schoolbag. These two boys always got off together from the school bus. Onni went
to Didima’s house and Percy went to his house.
Onni had noticed that there was always somebody to take Percy home. But nobody ever came to fetch Onni. He did not mind. ‘Didima’s house is just a turn away,’ he shrugged as he walked waving at Percy and his mother, who was carrying Percy’s school bag.
‘Everybody from Percy’s home smells of something,’ Onni noticed as he crinkled his nose. He did not like the smell. ‘Percy smells of it... Auntie smells of it... Uncle smells of it... Even Asha-bai who works in their house smells of it... Maybe they don’t know. What could it be?’ he thought as he walked.
‘Do I smell of something too? Does our house also have a smell that I don’t know of? How do I find out?’ he wondered.
‘Back from school?’ he heard a voice. Onni turned. It was Mr. Kamath.
‘Hello, Mr. Kamath,’ he replied.
‘Going to Didima’s house? Come, I will carry your bag,’ Mr. Kamath said holding his hand out.
‘Thank you, I’ll carry my bag.’
‘No, no... Give it to me. You must be tired,’ Mr. Kamath said as he held Onni’s bag and took it off his shoulders. Onni smiled.
‘Mr. Kamath is a nice man. He is always giving me gifts from Pootoo-Mashi’s big trunk. And he always helps me with my homework,’ the little boy thought. ‘I think I can ask him about the smell...’
‘That is Percy, from my school.’
‘You are friends with him? Is he in your class?’
‘Same; 3rd Standard. But not from my Division. We are school bus friends. We always get down here together,’ Onni smiled. ‘He smells. His whole family smells,’ he laughed as he said that.
‘Smells of what?’ Mr. Kamath asked.
‘I do not know. I have sat next to you... Do I smell? You have come to Didima’s house. Do you get any smell there?’
‘No!’ Mr. Kamath bent over Onni and acted like he was taking in deep breaths to check. ‘Not at all...’ he smiled.
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