WARNING : MATURE CONTENT. EXPLICIT LANGUAGE,NUDITY,SEX, VIOLENCE AND GORE.
00:00 hrs.
Pushpita put down her earphones. She put her hands behind her head and eased back into her chair. Ajay’s voice greeted her, “Hello”. Her shift was over.
She got up and smiled at him.” So? We are exchanging shifts tomorrow. Remember na”
“Ya cool. I wont mind a good nights sleep for a change”
“Good. I’ll come at 12 and take over,” , said Polly as Pushpita was known in this Convenience Call Centre. She darted down to catch the Wagon-r waiting below.
Parvati pulled at her blanket. She was shivering. Her body was burning. Doctor Babu’s medicine wasn’t doing much good. She couldn’t go to work this night. A thousand rupees at least. Lost. For missing one night. She has been missing too many nights now.
Chanda looked frustrated. She was drenched. It was pouring tonight. She was sheltered under the borch of a house. No body else seemed to be around except the coat-suit Babu. He seemed as frustrated as her. And her presence seemed to make him nervous.
Chanda adjusted her Pallu to reveal her midriff and cleavage. She was wearing a red sari with a blue and pink flowery blouse. The wet blouse stuck to her breasts proudly showing them off, its back was bare and its chestline dangerously low revealing her cleavage as well. She had worn the sari much below low as well exposing her deep navel. Her make up was loud. Deep red lipstick, dark mascara, and an overdose of rouge on her cheeks. But this was all part of the job.
She approached the coat-suit babu. He stiffened as she neared. Chanda didn’t care. In a husky voice she asked “Sahab, chalta hain kya?”
1 AM.
Amit stared at Maya. She looked beautiful when she was asleep. Then he looked at his baby. He looked beautiful too. With his mouth open. His button nose and tiny hands held in a fist. Amit looked at Maya again. He loved her for being his wife. He love her for being the mother of his child. He gently kissed her forehead. Maya opened her eyes. smiled. And pulled Amit into a kiss. On the lips.
Chaitali was flabbergasted. Mom and Mitali were crying again. This had become a regular practice since the past two weeks. It was Mitali’s wedding tonight and her tears were at their extereme highest.
“Didi. Will you please stop! I need a little sleep here.”, Chaitali yelled. She had been working hard these days, due to the wedding, and she was tired. And she couldnot understand what was on Mitali’s mind. She had always wanted to get married to a “Good” groom. Debopam worked at Microsoft, LA and earned a six figure salary.
But still mother and daughter cried. “When you will get married , you will cry too.” replied her mother. Mitali didn’t say anything. She continued crying.
“Look, I am not the kind of person you think I am.. My car has broken down and I am stranded here. I have no desire to be at this place at this hour of the night. And I have definitely no desire of going with…you. Please, please, please leave me alone.” , yelled Rahul to Chanda. Chanda turned away her head mumbling, “Nalla saala, kahan kahan se aa jate hae gaand uthake!”
Archie and Veronica were sitting on the beach. Archie was in his trunks. Veronica was taking off her clothes. Archie who was suddenly looking like Salman Khan stared in awe as Veronica pulled off her dress to reveal a two piece bikkini. Archie pulled her towards his arms. Veronica suddenly looked like Piyali from Ronnie’s school. Both were fourteen years old. Ronnie was now sitting with her in place of Archie. He had his hands around her back trying to untie the strings.
Chanda turned away her head mumbling, “Nalla saala, kahan kahan se aa jate hae gaand uthake!”. “Perfect!” yelled Vishubhai, “Cut”. He was directing the Movie. “One Night in the Rain”. “Wonderful Rupa! WONDERFUL. This was what I was looking for!”
Rupa Lahiri heaved a sigh of relief. At last after fifteen takes the shot was OK. Vishu wasn’t liking the way she was mouthing the line…”Nalla saala…”. At last he was pleased. Rupa was annoyed with Atul. He was playing Rahul, her hero in this film. He only acted in these “Arthouse” films which he termed different. And he was getting frustrated because of the many takes. His attitude irritated her. She was the STAR, doing this film for less than half-cost, and taking this big risk of playing a prostitute. If anyone had the right to get annoyed it was her - Rupa Lahiri.
Piyali was without her top now. But she was Rupa Lahiri now, the newest STAR of Bollywood. She was sitting there, her breasts exposed, Ronnie ,who looked much muscular than he usually was, running his hands around her body. Kissing her. He was’nt sure why he was liking this so much. Rupa put her hands on his chest now and slowly descended - to his abs…down…down. Ronnie felt wet suddenly. He opened his eyes. Everything was dark. He’d again peed in bed.
2 AM
“Hello. Welcome to Convenience Sir. This is Jay. How may I help you, Mr. Anderson.”
“You fucking well do ,you bloody ass Asian!!!! I WANT you to fix my cleaner, RIGHT NOW!!! Or I will bloody screw your native ass!!!”
Ajay closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Hearing racist insults in foreign accents. This was what he was paid for. “I’ll try my best Sir. But could you please tell me first what exactly your Problem is?” , he replied in the most polite voice he could manage.
Ronnie had no idea what the problem was. He had strated peeing in his bed again. He used to pee in bed till he was five years old. But then it had stopped. And now- it had started again. He was flushed in embarssment. Who could he tell about his problem.
He put his hands inside his underwear. Why was his piss sticky!!! This was happening for some months now. Something was changing in him. He was having these weird dreams, very often. Wherein he will see himself, more handsome than he actually was or sometimes someone else and some girl - fictional character or from his school or maybe some Heroine….getting naked in front of each other and kissing or caressing each other. What was more he was enjoying these dreams immensely. He looked forward to them. And then he had this problem - whenever he saw these dreams he peed his pants. He wasn’t sure if it was pee! Was it something else? He wondered what to do. O yes. He got up and went into the toilet. He had to clean himself , at least.
3 AM
Arindam woke up from his sleep. He looked at the alarm-clock near his bed. The last time he had looked at it it was 2. Nowadays if he could sleep for an hour at a stretch, he felt relaxed. He didn’t remember what woke him up. If it was any nightmare - it wouldn’t make any difference to him. Twenty four hours of his life was a nightmare now. A dream - it couldn’t be- all his dreams were lost, when he failed to get 2nd division in the HS - last year.
He lay still in his bed. He never thought of any naked heroines, the political scenario of the country didn’t affect him, even the miseries of his family didn’t touch him now - it seemed as if he was without any emotion. He just lay in his bed…waiting…waiting for sleep to come, waiting for the next day to arrive - waiting for what happened everyday - his father’s insults, his mother's tears, the sweat in the local train, the sun over Parkstreet, the 20p coffee at BSNL office and the rejection from every employer in the town.
Dominic looked out of the window…he cudnt see anything in the foggy night. He looked at his watch. Another two hours to reach Calcutta. Debopam’s brother would be there to receive him. Deb was his best buddy. It was his marriage. Never in his life had he imagined that he would fly thousands of miles over the Atlantic to attend the wedding of an Indian whom he knew for less than two years. Life leads you to places you never imagine. Dominic smiled.
4 AM
“Wake up. Wake up…”, yelled Mr Sircar, shaking his sleeping wife. Mrs Sircar rubbed her eyes and looked at her husband lazily.
“Whats is it Subroto?”, she asked. Women of her times never called their husbands by their first names. But she did.
“Come come.”. He said as he almost hauled her from bed and pulled her up the stairs in naked feet, to the roof.
At the door of the roof, Mr Sircar stopped.”Leela close your eyes.”
Mrs Sircar closed her eyes, unquestionably. She heard the roof door creak. She followed her husband into the roof. The scent of blooming Shiulis came floating in the morning breeze. Her wrinkled body underneath her thin nightsuit shivered in the morning chill. Motioned by her husband, she made her way to the railing of the roof.
“Leela,” whispered Mr Sircar, embracing her shoulders, sniffing the coconut oil from her hair. “Open your eyes.”
A red streak was appearing beyond the Second Hugli Bridge, like a roseprick on a finger. Mrs Sircar looked at her husband, her eyes smiling. Mr Sircar clasped her hands and kissed her gently on her lips. She giggled, as she had done 50 years ago, when Subroto had first kissed her on the way home from College.
5 AM
Mr Jalal impatiently clicked buttons on his mobile. He had been trying to reach his son in Bhubaneshwar for quite sometime. But it was not connecting. This time it did however.
“Ya Baba, I am in the station. The Train’s on time for a change..don’t worry I’ll give u a call when I reach Cal. No need to come.”
“What will I do at home, Salim? I’ll be at the station.”
Lakshmi found the door of her house open. Gour was lying on the bed naked, drunk - bottles of liquor strewn on the floor. It was his daily routine. Helplessly gaze at the sexy gori Madams he drove to Convenience at wee hours of the night, then go to Kalighat to satisfy his libido, get drunk , come home and fall asleep - at least till Lakshmi got home.
6 AM
Dominic had never seen so many people before. He had heard India was crowded , but so early in the morning the streets or the airport had not seemed like that to him. Only they were dirty and bumpy, but he had expected that. Debopam’s brother Anupam had received him at the airport. Here at Debopam’s home Dominic understood what the word “crowd” meant. There were men and women of all physical denominations possible and all were in awe of him. Dominic felt he was being stripped naked with innumerable penetrating eyes. And then there was Debopam. He came over and hugged him.
“Dom, meet my family. Guys this is Dominic – my best friend.”
Rupa Lahiri came out of her car and went to her room. She flopped on her bed exhausted. She walked into the bathroom and got into the tub.She ran the hot water and let her body soak it in. Malini , her assistant entered with a tray of starch-less diet biscuits and orange-juice. She made a face while chewing on the tasteless biscuits. Then she drank the orange juice in one gulp.
“Why the fuck do they have to have whole-night shoots Mali…. Cant they shoot during the day.”
Malini considered telling her that the film was named “One Night in the Rain.” But then decided against it. As she was leaving, she heard her mistress’s plea – “O Mallu, please, please, please I wanna have Tandoori Chicken. I’ll have one small portion promise. Cant I have one please.”
7 AM
Dominic still didn’t know what a real crowd was. If he would have wanted to know he should have got into the train with Arindam. Even in this early morning,this Pashkura Local was stinking with the stench of too many people. But Arindam was used to all this. At the beginning of this year, he used to be bothered by the sweat of peole staining his shirt, irritated by the irrelevant bickering of people standing on one feet about Dada and Chappel, turned on by the sudden touch of an auntie’s voluptuous butt on his crotch. But now, he was used to all this. Like an ancient yogi, he was now a master at standing on one feet in a swinging locomotive and freeing his mind of every thought. Nirvana was not that tough always.
Salim hated his job. He wanted to be a novelist. The white collard job, the meetings, the managers, the code snippets, the corporate way – he suffocated in the place. He wanted freedom. He wanted romance. He wanted adventure. He wanted to be a Hero. Or at least write a novel about the Hero - a novel that will transform people, inspire people and invigorate people. The train was taking up a gentle rhythm. The morning breeze was gentle on his face. His dream made him happy. Salim fell into a slight slumber.
8 AM
Mr and Mrs Sircar fought over the newspaper as they had the morning tea. Mr. Jalal added a little oil to the chicken stew he was preparing for his son. Arindam still stood on one leg in the train. Ajay came out of Convenience and mounted his bike. He raced home. He had to do Pushpita’s shift today at 4.
Ronnie sat inattentive in the classroom. He was glum today. Piyali hadn’t come today. It was her Didi’s marriage and she was on leave for 3 days. Ronnie was invited to the wedding. At night – 8’oclok. That was 12 hrs from now. Ronnie remembered his dream last night. In which Piyali was there with him. He imagined her again. Would she do those things with him??? His penis was straining against his pants. He rubbed it against the desk. It felt great.
9 AM
Dominic closely watched the ritual. It was called “Gaye Holud”. Debopam sat wearing a white loin cloth. A Priest chanted some gibberish, and the elder women rubbed turmeric paste mixed with oil on Debopam’s body and face. It was exotic. Sensing Dominic’s interest, Anupam’s wife came close and asked… “What Dom? Want a taste of it yourself?” Saying this she rubbed the paste on his cheeks and forehead. It felt strangely pleasant.
Mitali was also having her Gaye Holud. Everybody was busy rubbing her with Turmeric and generally pampering her. Piyali was rubbing Turmeric on her own cheeks. Only Chaitali was uninterested. She was restless. She was waiting for Partha. Could her asshole of a cousin not be on time even on Didi’s marriage.
10 AM
Salim was up and awake. And lost in his thoughts. Who was a Hero he mused. Obviously he was the main protagonist to the story. But what was he like? A Hero was often – someone who was not satisfied with where he was – someone who always searched for a better road, a better destination. It is the Hero’s restlessness that drives the story forwards. A hero is one who sets on a journey. Of self discovery. Sometimes he gets frightened and decides to turn back. But then he doesn’t. A Hero is one who continues with fortitude. He faces temptations on his path, and sometimes he gives in to them. But ultimately he wins over them. A Hero is one who triumphs. And He is the one who finds – the truth, the treausure or his true love. And a Hero is one who returns – at the end of the story – The Master of Both Worlds - balancing light with darkness, passion with wisdom, weakness with strength.
Gour was still not up. Lakshmi was busy with her household chores. It was just not fair. Lakshmi came home later than Gour, earned almost as much as him and still had to wait on him night and day. Plus his drinking and those witches of Kalighat. Lakshmi felt furious about Gour fucking them prostitutes, and afraid that he might pass of some disease to her. But she was more afraid to say anything. Gour was 6 ft 10. and he struck with broken liquor bottles when he was angry.
Partha was here at last. He was sweaty and dirty, his hair was in a mess. And in his unshaved face he held that same roguish smile that could make Chaitali’s heart race like a horse in Maidan. He looked at her with those mischieveous eyes and it said all. He was sorry to be late, he had missed her a lot and he would make it up to her.
11 AM
Partha was in the bathroom. Chaitali went upstairs to give him the towels.
“Open up the door scumbag!” she shouted.
“Scumbag you!” he retorted and pulled her in.
He was stark naked and shameless. He pulled her into a kiss, inserting his tongue in her mouth.
“What are you doing you bastard. Get covered for chrissake”
“Don’t say you don’t like my cock.” And he pulled down her blouse and stared sucking on her breasts.
Chaitali loved it but she liked teasing.”Leave me you perv. I am you sister.”
“Sister my foot. Aunt’s husband’s sister’s daughter. That way Cindy Crawford’s my sister too.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yes please”
“No!”
“But you promised.”
“Ok…. But not now. Anybody can come.”
“Then when?”
“Later!” And she slipped out of the bathroom. Then she stopped, turned back and gave him one quick wet kiss, and said “4 pm. Attic. Meet me.” And she darted down.
12 Noon
Dominic sat in his room. Even in all this crowd Debopam’s family had managed to get him a room of his own. He sat on the bed in his shorts. The Churidar suit bought for him by Debopam lay beside him. He looked at his knees. He felt tears swelling in his eyes. He wanted to stop but he felt a drop on his palm. And then the door flung open and Debopam entered.
He bolted the door behind him.
Rupa Lahiri sat at the dining table. The Tandoor-i-Chicken in front of her. She reached for the fork and the stopped. It had butter. Butter was evil. She drew her hand back.
Debopam knelt down before his friend. He looked up at Dom and tried to speak. But he couldn’t He started crying like a helpless child holding tight onto his friend’s thighs. “ I am sorry Dom! I am so sorry.” He mumbled through his tears. “My parents…they would never understand… I can’t …I can’t hurt them.”
Rupa stared at the Chicken longingly. How much butter could have gone into that. How much calories???? She would just have one piece. She took up the fork and proceeded to dig it in. But what about the Masala???
Dom took his friend up in his arms, and hugged him to his chest and then he too started crying. Both men sat together like that in a tight embrace wetting in each others tears. Finally Dom looked in his friend’s eyes and said “We can still be friends.”
But Deb leaned forward and kissed his lips. Dom tried to resist. They shouldn’t do this now… but he couldn’t. They sucked on each other’s lips, tears still flowing from their eyes, bodies quivering in pain and passion.
No Rupa Lahiri couldn’t do this. She couldn’t spoil her 22” waist for this piece of Tandoori-Chicken. She pushed the tray away and got up. “No Mali. I cant do this to me.” Malini was exasperated. What to do with this Chicken now. She was a vegetarian.
1 PM
Mr. Jalal tugged the book under his arms and stepped out of Oxford. Its was KM ganguli’s Mahabharata. Salim loved the Mahabharata. He would love this. He still had an hour to reach Howrah. He stepped off the footpath into the street. But suddenly he couldn’t move. His shoes were stuck to the road. The wet molten tar caught his feet. He struggled to free himself but it held him firm. And then he saw the bus rushing towards him. He let out a scream in horror. He didn’t want to die. He had to receive Salim at the Station.
And then he suddenly felt a violent shove on his back. Someone pushed him with all his might out of the bus’s way. He stumbled forward , flying through the air, landing near the middle of the road on his knees. His head fell forward striking the railings of the divider. He felt hot blood coming down his face. His vision blurred rapidly and the world faded out of existence.
Arindam lay partly on the street in a gruesome mass of flesh, blood and bone, while parts of him still hung on to the tiers of the bus as it tried rushed away into oblivion before the crowd caught it and burnt it to ashes.
2 PM
Salim’s train was on time. But his father was not there. He was perplexed. He was not even answering the mobile. Where was he? He was feeling nervous. What should he do.
It was almost an hour now…but still his Dad wasn’t here. He decided to go home and see.
3 PM
His house was locked. He asked the Sircar’s upstairs and they had no idea where his father was. He kept his bags with them and started for the police station. And then his mobile rang.
“Is this Mr Salim? Do you know Mr Abdul Jalal? He has had a accident. Could you please come to the Phoenix General Hospital? No no don’t worry…he is fine now.”
4 PM
Partha tiptoed upstairs to the attic. He didn’t know why..but he felt nervous. Chaitali was waiting at the door. She was sweating in anticipation. Partha just stared at her agape. He felt she was the most beautiful girl in this universe. Chaitali pulled him in her arms and planted and kiss on his mouth. Partha sucked in the sweetness of her lips. He had kissed her before but each time he kissed her it seemed like the best.
Partha was always the dominant one. But today he felt content letting Chaitali take her sweet time. She took of her salwar kameez, her brassiere, her pink flowery panties. This was the first time he was seeing her completely naked. He was frozen. Her breasts were a bit saggy, there was a little hair on her tummy which she’d forgotten to wax and her butt was a wee bit fat. But Partha felt she was perfect.
He took of his shirt and pulled down his pants. Instead of jumping on her as he had originally meant to, he reached out his hand and touched her delicately. He traced his fingers down Chaitali’s frame – from her shoulders, down her breasts, to her nave, down her cunt, to her butt. Chaitali shivered at his touch. Partha pulled her towards his body and squeezed her buttocks. Chaitali put her hands on his chest, down his abs and then touched his penis. It quivered at her touch. Partha pulled her in a tighter embrace.
He laid her on the floor and started kissing her all over. He pecked her eyes, sucked her lips, tongued her neck, licked her nipples, lipped her nave. He parted her legs and kissed her hood. He put down his head between her legs and sank his tongue into her cup. Chaitali silenced her scream of pleasure with her hands. Her legs coiled in a passionate embrace on Partha’s shoulder.
Chaitali wondered what would happen if somebody suddenly came upstairs and caught them. It exalted her passion. Both of them were soaked in sweat and saliva. Partha’s member throbbed in restless vigor, precum oozing form its tip. He took out a condom from his trouser pocket. He had come prepared. So had she. She spread her legs wide opening herself up for him, ready to take the final plunge. He entered in her like a flaming spear and pumped fire into her veins. She came in waves of passion and drowned him in oceans of joy. Then she rode him like a bucking stallion, dancing in a frantic rhythm until he erupted like a volcano in sheathes of elastic. The Universe started in a Big Bang and died in a silent whimper. They lay naked and spent in each others arms.
5 PM
Debopam dressed his friend in the Chruidar he had spent 4 weeks to buy. He looked at the handsome blonde man dressed in blue and gold. “You look beautiful”, he said.
Mitali looked gorgeous in the red banarasi. Chaitali hugged her to her heart and kissed her cheeks. She was happy now. She had beaten Didi in the final game. Mitali was still a virgin.
6 PM
Salim stared at the assembled bodyparts of the 18 year old boy who had saved his father’s life. His family still waited to have his body or rather what was left of it, which was still under the supervision of the Police and the Post-mortem people. And then he remembered that he had forgoteen the most important thing about Heroes. Heroes were self sacrificing people who abandoned their needs over those of others. And that heroes were born of circumstances. Extraordinary circumstances which made heroes out of ordinary people. And that every person had a hero in him waiting for the opportunity to come out and save the day.
7 PM
There was music. There were drums. There were lights. And people danced on the street. Dominic had never seen something like this before. He wanted to go out and dance. But Debopam held his hand. They sat side by side in the car adorned with flowers. In India, a man’s carriage is adorned with flowers twice in his life – once when he goes to marry and also when he goes to his pyre. Debopam prepared for his pyre…
8 PM
Parvati watched the marriage procession from some distance. She had been married once too. But now she got married every night. Her fever was at a low tonight. So here she was in the lanes of Kalighat hunting for a husband for the night.
These marriages were not so different from her profession she mused. The guy chose the girl who was the most beautiful. The girl chose the guy who had the maximum money. And then it was just a game of sex and money – plain and simple. Prostitution was on a day-to-day basis. Marriage was a one-time deal.
The groom was good looking, and he had a foreigner friend. And then she saw him. Among the groom’s people was this smiling and dancing couple…and on the man’s arm was her child. Shonamoni. She forgot what she was and wanted to rush to him and take him in her arms. But no. She stopped herself. There’s nothing more stronger than a Mother’s heart. It was all for his own good. Shona had a future with these people. And she had gone to great lengths to secure that future. That bastard Gour’s wife worked at the hospital.
Amit danced with his son in his lap. Little Amart was enjoying too. Maya felt her insides would burst in joy. She loved Amit. She loved Amart. She loved Amit for giving her her child. She loved Amart for being their flesh, blood and soul.
9 PM
Everyone was here now. Amit and Maya with their son. Mr and Mrs Sircar from next door. Piyali’s school friends. Mitali’s friends – Anuva, Amrita and Pushpita. The night had just started to grow young.
Debopam and Mitali sat before the sacred fire taking the sacred vow. Dominic stared listlessly at his friend – the love of his life who would be no longer his. Pushpita, Anuva and Amrita stared capriciously at blone foreigner from LA. Ronnie stared at Piyali and Chaitali stared back too. Ronnie felt she had been waiting for him all this day. Piyali wondered what was wrong with Ronnie.He was acting weird. Mr and Mrs Sircar stared at each other remembering fond memories of the past. Amit and Maya stared at each other and little Amart, content with their present. Chaitali and Partha stood at the back, touching each others hand, carelessly oblivious to an uncertain future.
The Priest hummed Vedic Mantras
Jadastu hridayam tava tadastu hridyam mama
10 PM
The Marriage Ceremony was going on in full swing. But Mr and Mrs Sircar returned home. They were aging now and got tired easily. They changed into their nightsuits and flooped on the bed exhausted. They talked about the marriage, how Mitali and Debopam looked beautiful together, they talked about the foreigner lad…he was cute- not as much as Mr Sircar in his youth but still cute. Then they talked about Mr Jalal’s accident. Salim had informed them over the phone. And about the boy who had saved him. They talked about fate, destiny and life. And then slowly sleep descended on their eyes. Mr Sircar was the first to fall asleep. Mrs Sircar stayed awake a little more. She looked at her husband. She still loved him the way she did 50 years ago. She wondered what love was. Some said it was Passion. Some said it was Devotion. Some said it was Commitment. Some said it was Compromise. She felt it was the ability to talk to each other for hours on end without feeling bored for a second. She looked at Subroto sleeping peacefully. She placed her hand in his palm and closed her eyes. She felt a pang in her heart…will she open her yes again to see a glimpse of him? Will he sill be there when she opened her eyes tomorrow? She shivered at the thought. She didn’t like to think about that. She lived in the present and her past was enough for her future. She drifted into sleep moments later.
11 PM
Pushpita’s Wagon-R arrived in time. She didn’t feel like going. Leaving the party – especially this guy Dom. He was sooooo sexy. But he had to go. Ajay had called her.
She bade farewell to Mitali and Debopam. To Auntie and Uncle. And then she said good-bye to Dom. “Be in touch.” She blurted out. “Can I have your mail_id?” She couldn’t believe she had just sid that. Dom smiled and said Deb had his id. Shit! How could she be so despo.
She didn’t know this driver. Well she didn’t do this shift. And she was the first to be picked. She spread out comfortably in the back seat. Dom was hot.
Gour stared at the fair ma’am at the back seat. Slut! What did these girls do all throughout the night? With all this make-up? He was a bit drunk tonight. The girl looked horny. He took a u-turn.
“Why are you taking this turn? ”
“It’s a shortcut.”
Pushpita rested her head on the headstand and tried to sleep. She couldn’t help thinking about Dominic. What was happening to her. Was she in love? The car suddenly stopped with a jerk
“What happened?”
“Dunno. Engine problem ” The guy got out and opened the bonnet. Pushpita got out too for a wisp of the midnight breeze. Pushpita called Mitali. “Kire? Ki korchis?”
Gour stared at the girl. Her breasts were huge. And she laughed like a bitch.
“I know you were going gaga over Dominic, you silly.” Mitali spoke from the other side. “Pity Anuva and Amrita are having all the fun.”
“Shut up Stupid. Its nothing like that.” She cut off the phone. “Ki! tomar holo?”, she asked the driver and then she looked at his face. He was staring at her like a ghoul, his eyes cold and gleaming. She felt her legs give in.
“What do you want?” She retreated. The Man advanced toward her. She threw her purse towards him and started running. But he pounced on her and pounded her to the ground. She tried to struggle hitting and kicking but a tight slap on her face ended her strength. She felt her lips part open and blood come out. She felt her blouse being ripped open and her sari being torn. Tears came down her eyes, scream from her mouth. The man silenced her scream with his mouth on hers. Not a smooch , not a kiss, it felt like he will swallow her whole. He pulled her hair, twisted her neck when she refused to respond. He took out his cock and put it in her mouth. He banged her head on the hard ground. He called her names she had never heard before. She stared in shock, still not believeing what was happening to her. He fucked her mouth and came over her face. He stripped her petticoat and violated her cunt. He broke her hymen with one thrust of his crotch. Her virgin blood came out in torrents. He pounded his blood-stained cock mercilessly ravaging her wound. She lay there like a senseless corpse, unable now even to scream. He released his seed in her open cunt. His libido satisfied he ultimately got up. He stripped off every piece of clothing from her body.He put her torn clothes and ornaments inside the car and stood over her naked body. He kicked her with his boots and spit on her face already gooed with his cum. Then he held out his penis and let out a stream of piss completing the humiliation. Content with himself, he got into the car and drove away leaving her torn, lying naked and cold on the ground, the darkness unable to cover her shame.
00 Hrs
It was 12 now. But nobody was sleeping. Debopam and Mitali’s parents and uncles and aunts and cousins and friends – the whole lot of them were wide awake – eating, singing, dancing and teasing the newly wed couple – Chaitali and Partha danced to the tunes of Chunari Chunari and everybody clapped. Dominique danced too. He was the object of special attraction to everybody in the house, especially the beautiful girls. The mantras of the marriage were still ringing in his ears –
Jadastu hridayam tava tadastu hridyama mama
– Where your heart lies, there my heart lies too.
He stared at Debopam. He knew he was married forever.
Salim sat beside his father on the hospital bed, clasping his hand. Mr Jalal was sleeping peacefully now. As he kissed the old man’s forehead, he felt few drops of tears in his eyes. He remembered the time when he had got the news of the accident, and now he was here. He didn’t know what he would have done if his father had not lived. And then his thoughts wandered back to his musings over “The Hero”. But he didn’t stop at that. He took up the pad from the bedside table, took out his pen and started scribbling.
Arindam was on a bed too. Today his sleep will not be broken. He won’t wake again to his mothers tears, fathers insults and the endless lanes of esplanade. He had found peace at last.
Pushpita lay on the road,her clothes torn, blood still flowing through her vagina. She couldn’t move, her whole body was hurting. But that was nothing compared to the wound inside. She felt that there was nothing left in her life. She will never have a respectable life agin. She will not be married, every body will point to her. But she didn’t want to die tonight. She wanted to live. And she cried out , “Help! Somebody help!”
Ajay put the earphones on again. It was that bastard Anderson .
“Son of a whore, Will you fix my problem or not, you fucking native bitch.” Ajay did what he always did. Closed his eyes, bit his lip and then said in the most polite voice. “Sir, will you please tell me what your exact problem is?”
