Sex and philosophy
Durai's face lit up. He had been waiting for more than half an hour for Priya to arrive and she finally did, looking stunning in a black and orange silk saree. Durai watched intently as Priya locked up her scooter and crossed over to where he was parked.
"Hi. What took my Gulab so long to get here?" he asked with a grin.
Priya scowled at the mention of the nickname. "Sorry, Thairuvadai," she responded after a minute's pause, drawing laughter from Durai. Soon Priya broke into laughter herself.
"Sorry, Durai. I had to think of some excuse to give Shanthi Anni and Karthik Anna. I told them I was going to Durga's house in Saligram. So Anni made me deliver a parcel to one of her friends who lives in the same area. That detour held me up." Priya replied.
"Why couldn't you just tell them you were going to a movie with me?"
"Very funny, Durai. I told you to inform Karthik Anna and come over to pick me up but you were the one who insisted we meet half way. You were too shy to approach them. And, you expect me to be the bold one?"
"Priya, you look lovely in that saree," Durai smiled sheepishly as he tried to sidestep Priya's remark and change the subject.
"OK, let's go. We don't want to be late for the movie, do we?" Priya prompted him.
They got into Durai's car and soon headed for the cinema. The Sunday afternoon traffic was relatively light and they arrived in good time. Durai had picked up the tickets earlier and they quickly took their seats in the hall. The trailers were already running. Soon, the lights went out and the movie began.
Priya was relieved that Durai hadn't lied about the subject of the movie. Mohsen Makhmalbaf's "Sex and Philosophy" had little to do with sex. Nor with philosophy, for that matter, in spite of the celebrated Iranian director's pretentious attempt at intellectualizing promiscuity. But the stylized dances and the lensman's artistic capture of Tadjikistan's landscapes were alluring and soon Priya found Durai's hand sliding over her shoulder. She sat still at first, looking straight ahead at the screen.
"Relax, Priya," Durai whispered into her ear as he sensed her discomfort. As he caressed her neck and hair, Priya felt as if she was being tickled by a feather and smiled. Gradually, she warmed up and rested her head on Durai's shoulder as he locked his hand into hers. They sat huddled together watching the movie and enjoying their intimacy.
Suddenly, Durai felt a vibration against his leg. He whipped out his cell phone and realized that JC was trying to reach him.
"Damn! I need to talk to JC. I'll be back," he excused himself and left the theatre.
"Durai, what can we do about this report in this morning's papers that says eve-teasing is on the rise on campuses, cinema theatres, malls and other public places?" JC's voice boomed over the cell phone as soon as Durai had stepped outside the hall and dialed back his number.
Durai was flabbergasted. He seemed on the verge of tearing out his hair. Gosh, this is a Sunday, I am in the midst of a date with my girlfriend, and this blooming boss of mine calls me to ask what we should do about eve-teasing, he fumed to himself. Struggling to mask his irritation, he replied, "Sir, I beg your pardon, but we are not a morality police. Plus, we have far weightier matters to handle, such as theft, robbery, murder, and these days terrorism. We are already stretched thin. We cannot do much about eve-teasing, Sir."
"Durai, are you saying eve-teasing is not an important matter?"
Durai gnashed his teeth. He was thankful he was not speaking to his boss in person. "No, Sir. I am not saying that. I do understand that eve-teasing is a social ill. It is a serious problem. But it is not a problem that the police force can tackle. We need the community to be involved – school principals, teachers, lawyers, doctors, community elders, everyone. The schools, for instance, can form task forces for vigilante action …"
"Yes …"
Durai's face was turning red with anger as he continued, "They can start a concerted campaign against eve-teasing. They can organize debates and discussions on the problem. The film industry also has a role to play since much eve-teasing takes place in cinemas, and movies often unintentionally glorify eve-teasing. We could urge producers to screen ads against eve-teasing, even if they are reluctant to preach good social behaviour directly through their movies."
"Good, good, Mr Durai."
"And, our MLAs should make it a point to address the problem in their speeches. Not that they themselves are beacons of civilized behaviour …"
"Excellent, excellent."
"In short, Sir. Policing is a community responsibility. The police force can only handle the most egregious crimes in society which the ordinary man cannot handle by himself."
"Mr Durai, these are excellent ideas. Now, can you put them down in a draft speech. I will think of a suitable occasion soon to make a public speech on the matter. By the way, I hope I didn't bother you on a Sunday. The story in the papers this morning really bothered me."
"Not at all, Sir," Durai lied as he hung up. He went to the kiosk outside the cinema and bought a bottle of water, which he slurped up noisily. Then he took a deep breath before he headed back to the cinema hall. He quickly returned to his seat and tried to cool down further.
The romantic accordion music struck up again. The protagonist was driving around the streets with 40 candles melting into his dashboard. Durai put his hand out again for another cuddle.
"How dare you!" The woman seated beside him shouted as she angrily brushed off his hand and rose from her seat. Two women next to her got up as well. Durai's face turned white as he realized his error.
"Oh, my God. I'm … I'm …so sorry. I am so sorry," he put up his hands in apology. "I was m… m… mistaken. I sat in the wrong row. I didn't realize …"
One of the other woman shouted, "You look like a decent man. And yet you behave like a scoundrel.
"You rascal! You molester!" shouted the other woman.
"Nn… no, maam. I didn't intend to. I was sitting with my girlfriend and then … I… I … went out to answer a phone call. In the dark I didn't realize I had come back to the wrong seat. I am so so very sorr …"
The woman he had mistakenly petted kept quiet but her two friends were in no mood to listen as they continued their recriminations. "Liar!" "Man of no morals!" the women screamed. Soon, a small crowd gathered around them. Some simply stood around and watched while one or two joined the chorus of accusations.
"You eve-teasers, don't you have sisters and mothers?" one of the men in the crowd shouted. Durai looked as if he would break down. He couldn't understand how he could have been so careless. He was an assistant commissioner of Police and if he was arrested for eve-teasing, he would never be able to face the world again. And, his career would be over even if he managed to prove his innocence.
Suddenly, a man grabbed Durai by the shirt and punched him in his chest. Durai was sent sprawling over the floor. As he lay wincing in pain, he heard a voice, "Let me through, let me through." Priya pushed her way through the crowd and helped Durai to his feet. "This is my husband-to-be," she said, her hands securely around Durai's waist. "He was sitting with me and went out to attend to a call from his boss. And, in the dark, he came back to the wrong seat. He didn't realize it was someone else sitting next to him. I apologise on his behalf."
"It's OK," said Durai's unintended victim. "My friends are strong feminists and they over-reacted. I sensed from your boyfriend's initial reaction that it was a case of mistaken identity. So, I have no hard feelings."
"Thank you, maam, thank you very much for your understanding. And, once again, I am really very sorry," said Durai, visibly relieved. "I don't know how to make it up to you," he continued.
One of the other cinema patrons, annoyed by the interruption, urged them to leave the cinema if they wanted to talk. Priya apologized to him and suggested to Durai that they leave. The three ladies also decided to leave the cinema. One of them remarked that the movie was a let-down.
As they exited the hall, Durai asked whether he could buy them coffee. "Why not. I am craving for a cuppa. By the way, my name is Bonnie," said the lady whom Durai had mistakenly petted.
"Hi, Bonnie. My name is Durai. And, this is Priya," Durai responded. Bonnie introduced her friends Carin and Rajipoo.
They headed for an Italian caf in the next building. Cappucinos, Lattes and Mochas were soon ordered, along with tiramisu, brownies and cheesecake. Soon, they were chatting like old friends.
"You were lucky that the audience was a broad-minded yuppie crowd. Otherwise, you might have been lynched," quipped Bronnie with a smile.
"Well, I wasn't so concerned about getting physically hurt by anyone. I was more terrified about what this whole episode would have done to my reputation and career," said Durai.
"You know, he is an assistant commissioner of Police," said Priya proudly.
"Really? Wow!" said the three women, almost in unison.
"And, ironically, I had just been talking to my boss, the Joint Commissioner, about eve-teasing," continued Durai. "That was the phone call that dragged me out of the hall."
"Actually, I was only a bit taken aback. I don't think I would created a big scene. Carin and Rajipoo were the ones. They're strong feminists, you know. They were the ones who actually screamed. Anyway, Priya, you are a lucky girl. If not for you, I might have used the opportunity of this incident to get to know your man better and date him!" chuckled Bonnie and winked at Durai.
"Come to think of it, I too wouldn't have minded a slight brush by a hunk like the assistant commissioner of Police," added Carin with a mischievous laugh.
"What kind of women are you two!" growled Rajipoo, clearly the more prim of the three women.
Later that evening as they headed back from the restaurant, Priya noticed that Durai was exceptionally reticent, speaking only when spoken to.
"Hey, what's the matter," she asked, placing a hand on his arm as he drove. Durai slowly removed her hand from his arm.
"Sorry, Priya. I've learned my lesson. No more public intimacy from now on until we get married."
"What? And I thought I was the conservative one?"
Edited by Bonheur - 17 years ago
Cricket
Anupamaa
