SunEclipsers just for you!: In Fairy Land - Page 12

No Pumpkin Shell (Pt 3)

He was going to drop Simi off at the KB metro station on his way to work. She would wend her way to the University. It was to be a half-day, so she'd be back home in the early afternoon. It was already rushed and there was breakfast waiting for him as he ran down the stairs realizing that he'd get snarled in traffic.

'OK! Let's go Simi!'

'Don't you want breakfast?! Ma has just whipped up some eggs and toast'

'Nope, don't have time! And you don't either missy, so stop tarrying over yours! Are you done?!'. He grabbed the toast and ran downstairs wolfing it down.

She grabbed the other toast for him then came down. They set off for their respective destinations.

'Hey, please don't forget to call Mom ... OK? I think late next week will work for me ... tentatively'

'I always do as I'm asked ... unlike someone I know!', she said archly, referring obliquely to last night's tea episode!

'Look! I'm on to you! The only reason you wanted me to come to the kitchen was so you could steal a hug and a kiss with no one looking!! You find me irresistible! Most days can't keep your hands off of me! C'mon! 'Fess up!', he said chortling.

'You know, you can be a real pain sometimes, no?!!', she punched him in the arm!

'Owww! What!! You want me to show up all black and blue at the office today?!! They're going to wonder what's with my home life!!'

He got punched even harder for that!

He told her that given the scheduled teleconference with Vishal and the rest of the project team, he expected to be back home well after 7:00 p.m., so dinner did not have to be held off because of him.

Simi had invited her colleague Sarita Ahuja to be a guest speaker for the students. The paper that the two had collaborated on had been accepted for publication in the Indian Historical Review. Simi's area of expertise was the history of the Mauryan empire, and Sarita was interested in contemporary women's issues. They wrote a comparative assessment of the evolving role of women through history in the upper echelons of Indian society. The two were offering a special seminar course based on the research that had been done for the paper. The first term at their institution, Hindu College, was nearing the tail end. It would all be over in a week and then she'd be foot loose and fancy free for the summer break!

Simi walked into the room approximately 10 minutes before class was to begin to make sure that everything was orderly for Sarita's lecture. She was dressed in an off-white summer churidaar-pajama suit with a buttery yellow dupatta with Chikan embroidery. Around her neck was a string of lapis lazuli beads - one of the few things she had treated herself to in Sikkim. She had put her hair up casually, holding it in place with a large clip. That way she did not have to fuss with it, and it kept her at least feeling, if not being actually, cool. Most of the students were already in the classroom, lounging around. The characteristic buzz of animated conversation - the eternal province of the young - filled the room.

There were hushed tones amongst a group of young women.

'Hey, she's sure looking smart these days! Gone that infernal braid! Gone the school-marm look! Notice the glow about her?!'

'Yeah! Comes from being married to a younger man!!'

'She is??!! How do you know??!'

'Gawd, girl! Where have you been??!! And he's supposed to be absolutely gorgeous! A real hunk!'

'Where did you see him to know that?!'

'I didn't, but Tootsie did! She called me the other day. Seems like he was dropping her off at the KB metro station. On a scooter!! She introduced him to Tootsie. Guess who she's married to?!

'Who??!!'

'Abhinav Taneja'

'Wha??! Abhinav Taneja??!! Of Taneja Industries??!! The guys who do air-conditioners and what have you??!'

'The same!'

'How did she manage to get her talons into him??'

'Don't be mean! She's never had talons! She's really sweet with a seriously bad case of the smarts! She's not Hindu faculty for nothing y'know ... even if it's part-time!'

'Not only that! His sister is married to her brother!'

'Whoa!! Girl, we're not doing something right! I think we should all move to KB if the pickings there are that rich!'

She called the class to order. The gossiping gradually came to a stop.

'I'll tell you the rest later', silently mouthed one of the girls to some others in the group. They smirked, then grew silent.

When class concluded and the students dispersed, Sarita noticed that she appeared a little preoccupied, so, remarked on it.

'Oh! There's so much going on at home that needs taking care of and Abhi wants us to move out to our own place. That's just causing me some stress.'

'Well, Simi, I don't think that's unreasonable! I cannot imagine how he likes staying in a room that's a Bursaati. I know most of us are used to confined quarters, but must be especially hard for him! Besides, don't you feel you need some privacy?'

'Sarita, I've lived there all my life! Shared a room with my sisters! I've never known anything different. The important part is that there are issues that need my support'

'Why can't stuff be taken care of without you being a permanent fixture there?! It's not as if KB is on another planet! I'd advise you to pay heed to your own needs for a change.'

'Oh, I don't think I'll have a choice! His mother wants us to do the same! I guess, you're right! Thanks for listening! I wanted a sounding board!'

She called Anusha while on the train to let her know Abhi's schedule. Deferring the tea until the following week was acceptable. She was really looking forward to seeing her kids though! Had heard from Sunayna Mathur that Abhi was at MP! If only his own obdurate, unreasonable father would come to his senses!! There would be no need for this song and dance of 'stolen' meetings!!

She got home, all hot and sweaty, dying for a change! There was a commotion of raised female voices from her old bedroom - now Mili's room! Alarmed she hurried in to find her mother trying desperately to soothe a hysterical Mili! Simi took over. This was the anxiety attack Manju had mentioned! She gently motioned her mother aside, then held her baby sister tight, kissing her on her head and face, wiping away her tears! She made her sit on the bed, still embracing her. Mili was in the very best hands and no stone would be left unturned to make the devil pay his dues! Not a one! She continued to soothe her baby doll of a sister until the latter simmered down.

'Hey sweets! Have you eaten?!'

Mili nodded and said 'Yes, Papa-ji, Ma and I ate about an hour or so ago.'

Rajinder Sethi came home for lunch as before. The shop had re-opened. It had been easy as pie to hammer that petty goon Bhalla into subservience. The Sethi's were not someone to contend with anymore! Kalavati Bhalla's transformation in light of this was complete. She was the model of deference, with barely concealed obsequiousness! But 'Radio Bhalla' was not given a respite! 'Communication' across and beyond the neighborhood walls was alive and well!

'Oh! OK! I'm famished! Why don't you heat some of the stuff up then give me company during lunch? I'll hurry and change! Yeah?! OK?!'

Mili nodded again, then rose to take care of things. Simi was in many ways her mother, her friend, and her confidante.

Manju retired for her siesta.

Simi walked upstairs! She had called ahead letting her mother know when to expect her so the cooler had been turned on. She opened the armoire for something comfortable to change into after her shower. Lying folded on the shelf were several of Abhi's cotton Kurta-Pajamas. He liked them crisply starched and ironed! Ooooo! Wonder how that would feel? To jump into one of his things?! Women did that! Besides, she really wanted to take off that strait jacket known as a 'bra' and not have to worry about being revealing! She could have done that with one of her own things, but was excited about seeing how it felt to be in something completely different! She had to roll up the sleeves of the kurta and the legs of the Pajama when she finally put it on. Since it was starched, everything stayed in place. The effect was somewhat comical, but who cared!

The two sisters were carrying on a conversation at the table when who should walk in! Miss Bubbly, Jhalli, Neetu! Here was someone with nary a worry in the world! She breezed in and wanted to know where everyone was! She used to drop by at least a couple of times a week. Right behind her walked a young man in chauffer's uniform with a basket of something in his hands.

'Vicky, set them over there on the coffee table', she said imperiously. He did. 'That'll do!' As he walked away, Simi did not fail to notice what seemed like knowing glances between the two. In the meanwhile, her endless chattering of the Dolly Chaachi variety woke Manju up who came to join her 3 girls.

'Who was that? A new employee??!' inquired Simi.

'Simi-di you'll never guess who that was! Oh wait! You wouldn't know about him! Hey Mili! Do you remember that group of Lotharios who used to hang around my college, ogling the girls in the hopes of making out?! And this fellow Vicky was so full of himself! With his laid back smarmy look and motorcycle?! A scholastic non-entity?!'. Not that she would go down in history as a genius!

'Uh ... yeah ... I guess'.

'Well, he now works for us!!! Couldn't find a job anywhere else, so now here he is ... at my beck and call! Wow!! I think that's hilarious!! Oh! Before I forget! In the basket are those delicious miniature mangoes for sucking!! From the Dagar orchards!! Enjoy!!'

Neetu stayed through the afternoon tea, then left. Mili and Simi retired to their old room to work on their school stuff. As dinner time approached, she asked Mili to go and help their mother while she ploughed through her reading in preparation for her next lecture - sitting in her old bed, a pillow propped against the headboard; her legs bent and crossed over each other. She had stuck a pencil in her ear and played with it from time to time - between her teeth, or twirling it between her finger -, totally absorbed.

It was about 8:00 when she heard Abhi. He was finally home. Papa-ji had returned around 6:00, freshened up and was watching the news on TV. They weren't going to start dinner without him! Abhi greeted everyone and asked what was cooking. There was a wonderful aroma wafting from the kitchen. She got out of bed and walked to the front room. It was expected that she would accompany him upstairs which she did - barefooted. The cooling floor felt good beneath her feet. He wondered about her get-up! It looked an awful lot like one of his Kurta-Pajamas! Yup! It was! Whatever! Women!

She preceded him into the room and walked up to the writing table to turn on the lamp. A soft light suffused the room. Anticipating his return she had turned on the cooler to keep the room from being a furnace. Then she turned around to put his briefcase away and reached out her arm for him to hand it over.

'See, if we had a place of our own, as soon as I entered the front door, I would have told you how sexy you look in my Kurta-Pajama'

'See, if we had a place of our own, I would have grabbed you like this ... and then groped you ... like this'. He reached under the Kurta and up her front to realize that something was amiss! He had been joshing her with a silly smile and mischievous gleam in his eyes. The realization stunned him into silence for a fraction of a second because such a state of deshabille was completely unexpected! That rapidly gave way to a look of agony and ecstasy! He very gently reached his arms around her in an embrace with a barely audible groan. He circled her waist with one arm and the other crept up her back to her opposite shoulder. As he reached over to kiss her neck, her back arched ever so slightly. Her eyes closed instinctively and a soft moan escaped from her lips. She liked his hands on her! Her own hands rested lightly on his shoulders ... tentatively. She was on the toes of one foot, the other up in the air curling around to maintain her balance. She need not have worried. He wasn't about to let go of her. The voltmeter of her body was fast registering some astronomically large numbers ... rising exponentially ... 500V ........ 600V ...... 700V .... 725V .. 750V! Meltdown was next when she would have pleaded with him to not stop ... ever!

Then, the ice-cold bucket of reality hit her! The door to the Bursaati was wide open, and anyone could have walked up to find them in flagrante delicto! Well ... potentially in flagrante delicto! The rising color from her face drained! She gently but decisively pushed him off.

'Abhi, you need a shower!!' ...

'Oh! OK! Should I change into one of your sulvaar suits when I'm done?!', his teasing self was back in form - more out of necessity than choice! He knew they could not tarry. It would be too obvious downstairs. Not if they had a place of their own though!

She disentangled herself without replying and walked out to the terrace to cool off her ardor. Her heart still beating maddeningly. She looked out into the horizon, a soft smile lighting up her face as she reflected upon the few moments of passion that she had allowed herself. He was right ... if they had their own place, doors could have been left ajar with complete abandon!

There were as yet, the faintest remnants of daylight that accentuated the gathering dark clouds. There was going to be rain shortly. She saw the streaks of lightning and then heard the thunder. The breeze picked up and she could hear the murmur of rustling leaves from distant trees. She felt not just as a nayika in an Indian miniature painting, but thanks to that close encounter, as Radha in the 18th century Gita Govinda series from the Guler School of Pahari painters. Invariably depicted as doe-eyed, sharp nosed, rosebud mouthed, pale skinned, bejewelled nymphs! When they got their own place, she would like several such miniatures for their bedroom.

Postscript:

While working out this encounter between our lovers, I remembered my collection of books on Indian Art that have laid untouched for much too long! I had always liked the refinement of the Guler school of miniaiture painting and know there's a lot of 'Kama-Sutra'-ish stuff from back then! I had already worked out my version of Simi feeling part of such a painting and went back to see if there was an illustrative example in one of the books. There were many! This is excerpted from one such in the book titled 'Pahari Masters' (with my editing for brevity and added 'discretion' - the latter only marginal!):

"Almost at the beginning of his celebrated Sanskrit love-lyric, Gita Govinda, 'the love song of the dark lord', Jayadeva brings in words that are inviting and, at the same time cautionary:

"If remembering Hari enriches your heart,

If his arts of seduction arouse you,

Listen to Jayadeva's speech

In these sweet soft lyrical songs"

The conditional 'if' is introduced because the details that follow of the seductive arts in the poem are charged with passion that slowly keeps mounting and may not be easy for everyone to be able to absorb this combination of eroticism and devotion. However, the reader of the poem or the viewer of the paintings ignores almost as a matter of course, the cautionary note.

The lyric opens with the words placed in Nanda's mouth. He entrusts Radha, visualized often as older than the adolescent Krishna, with taking him home. He says 'clouds thicken the sky; Tamala trees darken the forest; the night frightens him; Radha, you take him home!' The painter of this magnificent series renders the opening verse with Radha and Krishna beginning to walk. One notices the darkness of the night, the thickness of the forest behind them. But in this series as in the poem, strange and beautiful things happen in the forest on the way. As the poet says: 'they leave at Nanda's order; passing trees and thickets on the way; until secret passions of Radha and Madhava triumph on the Yamuna riverbank.'

This is how the painter visualizes the scene: the lovers stand close to each other; Krishna throws his left arm around Radha's shoulder and gently reaches out for her with his right hand. Radha makes futile gestures, restraining his left hand and pointing with her own right hand the path they must take. But there is no conviction in her resistance, for she turns back and gazes lovingly into Krishna's eyes, standing like an elegant dancer, left leg lightly crossed against the right, the toes touching the earth. Behind them the dark forms of the trees loom, the tamala grove dotted by the few palm trees.

From a narrative standpoint, the painter's decision to devote an entire folio to this tender moment speaks of consummate intelligence. Soon there is going to be talk of 'tamala trees' fresh leaves absorbing strong scents of deer musk', of 'glistening saffron flower pistils' turning into 'golden scepters of love', of 'budding mango trees' trembling from the 'embrace of rising vines', and 'yellow silk and wild flower garlands' quickening 'wanton quivering looks' and 'suggestive smiles'. The 'wondrous mystery of Krishna's play in the forest is going to be unveiled. But, for the moment, there is quietude and a discreet expression of passion with the stillness of the night strangely affecting."