Benign Flame: Saga of Love, BS Murthy [rainbow fish read aloud txt] 📗
- Author: BS Murthy
Book online «Benign Flame: Saga of Love, BS Murthy [rainbow fish read aloud txt] 📗». Author BS Murthy
“You know all that was in jest,” he said cajoling her.
“Have I asked for your clarification?” she said rather curtly.
“So you want to hang me without a hearing,” he said tying his handkerchief to his neck.
“I only thought you’ve the gift of the gab, now I see that you’ve theatrics to boot,” she said in the same vein.
“Even in your kaali avatar, you look angelic,” he said endearingly.
For once, she seemed not pleased, and, in time, they boarded the city bus that barged in to the bus stop. After that long ride of silence, when they reached home, Sandhya headed to the bed straight, though after greeting her in-laws.
“Why this fuss over some lighthearted banter?” said Raja Rao, who followed suit.
“Who prevented you from finding a father-in-law who could’ve weighed you in gold?” she said turning her back on him.
“You’re God’s own gift to me, let’s forget about it,” he said taking her into his arms.
“Let’s forget about it, good night,” she said nudging him away.
“Sandhya, do realise that sex is the nature’s gift for both the sexes. If you mistake that you’ve more to give than receive in it, then the woman in you would lose as wife for you won’t be able to experience the joy of being a female. So don’t ever demean lovemaking as an instrument of sexual blackmail. It pays you to know that sex is not about male satiation alone but it is as much a womanly fulfillment,” he said persuasively.
“I’m really sorry, I’ll never make that mistake again,” she said, and moved into his outstretched arms.
“It’s not entirely your fault though; I should’ve known that any bride would be sensitive when it comes to her parents. You may know that I value your parents as much as I do mine,” he said, as he reached for her lips to savour the flavour of their first reconciliation.
“Now I love your mind too, I’m proud of you, really,” she said, and initiated their deep kissing.
It’s in the realms of man’s vision to ennoble his woman by enabling her to taste the fruits of femininity rather than know towing to her fallacies to possess her womanliness for the satiation of his carnal cravings.
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After grappling with Bombay’s gripping humidity for a week, the Raja Raos had to encounter New Delhi’s sweltering heat that June-end.
When Sandhya stepped into the drawing room of modest two-bedroom apartment in Karol Bagh, she experienced a rare sense of belonging though she knew that it was a rented one, and as if to cement her sentiment, Raja Rao lost no time to take her into his arms.
“Sorry, I’ve been a spendthrift,” he said, in explanation of lack paraphernalia therein.
“Surely it’s a bachelor’s prerogative,” she said smilingly.
“I’m sure you would induce in me a married man’s responsibilities,” he said.
‘Why not I take up a job,’ she said enthusiastically.
“A thousand or more that you could earn may not be needed now, but won’t be sufficient later if need be. So better you improve your qualification and acquire skills for a paying career,” he said.
“I’ve an aptitude for interior design; I like to take a diploma course in that,” she said excitedly.
“When we go on our own, you can complement my architectural pursuits,” he said shaking her hand.
“I love to contribute in all your endeavours,” she said kissing his hand.
Then following him into other portions, she felt the place was her very own, and as though to express her gratitude to him for having given her that feeling, she enlaced him from behind, and said fondling him,
“As I’ve a home to call mine, I feel I’ve an identity of my own,” she said feeling fulfilled.
“So, I’m left out?” he said in jest.
“Even if I want to, I know you won’t let me,” she said clinging to him closely.
“Though it’s a bit premature, a little lecture may not be out of place,” he said as they began having samosas they picked up on the way.
“I’m sure you would’ve shined as a lecturer as well,” she said admiringly.
“It’s as well that we all need some space on which we’ve the lien; while man protects his workplace, woman clings on to the kitchen. Try asking a clerk to move his table to an obscure corner, though he might not oppose, but yet he would be resentful. The mother-in-law syndrome, to some extent, is rooted in woman’s compulsive need to reign in her home. When she is forced to share it with her daughter-in-law, she shows it in not-so-subtle ways, and when it comes to a woman’s equation with her man, it’s said that she might even suffer a rival in his bed but wouldn’t like share her kitchen with any, strange though it may seem!” he said meaningfully.
“I hope to mature by then,” she said.
“Given your sweet nature, I’m sure you would,” he said affectionately.
‘Smart that he is, he’s preparing me for sharing him with Roopa, as if I need any preparation for that, and when it comes to sharing the kitchen, it’s altogether different with the lesbians,’ she thought.
Shortly before noon, they went to the Machala Rao’s place, where it all began, for lunch, and stayed there till the evening, from where; they reached the Malhotras, members of Raja Rao’s bridge circle.
“So, you’ve a dealt yourself a GS of a wife,” said Malhotra, obviously impressed with Sandhya.
“Welcome to the new member,” said Mrs. Malhotra.
“But I say, we sorely missed you at Panaji,” said Malhotra.
“How did it all go?” asked Raja Rao.
“It’s more memorable off-the-table than on-the-table,” said Malhotra. “In the Swiss League, we failed to make it to the final round by just three VPs. I’m sure your presence would’ve seen us through.”
“What’s with the progressive four?” Raja Rao enquired.
“I’m only coming to that, it’s better forgotten but for MV Rao’s classic comment,” laughed Malhotra boisterously, and continued mirthfully. “Surely you remember the ‘Queens of Trumps’, the ladies team from Bombay. As it happened, they overbid LS against Sinha and Uday and went three shy. Yet, as they eventually won the event, Sinha got ecstatic, as you know he would often, and for no good reason. So, he went on praising them, though reminding them that he give them a zero on his table. Amused by Sinha’s raving, MV Rao pulled him aside and said,
“Sinha saab what’s so exciting in giving a zero to women; had you taken ‘zeros’ from them and given them a ‘one’, it would’ve been the time to gloat over.”
As Malhotra joined Raja Rao afresh to laugh their hearts out, their women looked at each other in embarrassment.
“You men and your party jokes,” snarled Mrs. Malhotra.
“Sexual colour provides fillip to good humour like nothing else,” retorted Malhotra.
“What else?” said Raja Rao.
“Mrs. Rajan was enquiring about you. She still remembers the way you squeezed her hand at Madras last year,” said Malhotra.
“Mrs. Rao may wonder what this squeezing is all about,” said Mrs. Malhotra in all smiles.
“That’s why I say, let’s initiate the bride into bridge right away,” said Malhotra, reaching for a couple of new packs.
As the novice partnered the expert then, they had a long session at the table, followed by the North Indian culinary that satiated their palates as well.
“With Mrs. Rajan, it should’ve been a pleasant experience for the ladies’ man, even in bridge terms,” said Sandhya admiringly, as they left the Malhotras only to reach a nearby Ice-cream Parlour.
“It’s more interesting if seen from the angle of human proclivities,” said Raja Rao. “In Madras, last year, Malhotra and I chanced to play against a team from the Gymkhana Club. In the open room, we had for our opponents Mrs. Rajan and her partner. Introductions over, I asked her whether she knew Hema, my cousin, a regular at their club. Though she acknowledged their acquaintance, yet she didn’t enquire further, apparently treating me as a poor cousin of her club mate,” he said.
“Really!” said Sandhya.
“But during the course of play, I chanced to execute a squeeze on her hand that changed her attitude towards me; for the rest of the tournament she sought my company at every turn, enquiring about my further exploits in the meantime,” he said reminiscently.
“It’s obvious that she valued the player in you,” said Sandhya, and added, “but still I wonder why she wasn’t impressed with you to start with!”
“Because she didn’t have your eyes,” he smiled.
“Enough is enough, if only I’ve the power, won’t I blind all your women prospects?’ she said heartily.
“You may know that it’s not uncommon for people to lack equanimity in their interactions - either they turn obedient to those they imagine as superior to them in their station or remain indifferent to those they perceive as inferior to them, of course, going by mere appearances. But if circumstances were to remove their mental blocks, then some of them may warm up to the deserving. You know the one thing that appealed to me in Roopa’s persona is her sense of equanimity; not that you lack any, but it’s remarkable with her, given her background,” he said.
“You’ve read her well; wonder how the poor thing is; she promised that her letter would receive us in Delhi, but,” she said in vexation.
“Won’t she have her own things to attend? You can’t afford to let such things upset you. I wish you develop a hobby, as your involvement with it provides you the necessary diversion from the disappointments of life. The wider your interests are, the lesser would be the time left for worrying,” he said persuasively.
“But still, hope you would stick to your promise to shift,” she said stretching her hand.
“How do you expect me to forget that when it promises so much to us, let me see how to go about it, and sooner at that,” he said taking her hand.
As Roopa’s aura came into his focus at that, Raja Rao too turned melancholic as he kick started his Bullet.
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Try as she did, Sandhya couldn’t feel at home in the country’s capital as its social ethos, dominated by ostentation offended her sensitivity, nursed in refinement. Added to that, her longing for Roopa and her brooding over their reunion mostly confined her to home, precluding any possibility of socializing, save her regular interactions with the Madhava Raos and the Malhotras. It was in that state of mind that she felt the place a transit camp, and failed to get involved with the life and times of New Delhi.
When the Institute of Interior Design, as though to drag her out of her hibernation, had granted her admission, Raja Rao, who came home early that day, excitedly told her,
“I’ve great news for you.”
“So do I,” she smiled.
“Let me guess,” he felt her belly.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” she caressed his head.
“You know I’ve a double stake in that, as man and as a palmist. What’s the news you’ve for me?” he said, continuing to caress her.
“You tell me yours,” she said.
“Ladies first, if you please,” he said.
“Yes, to listen,” she said, smilingly.
‘How smart of you, congrats, you’ve got the admission,” he said visibly pleased.
“Thank you but what a coincidence it is that Roopa too has taken up the correspondence course, in Personnel Management, of Annamalai University. She wrote that she started learning typing and shorthand as well,” she said kissing him.
“It’s nice to hear all that,” he said, wondering whether it was a sign of his continued influence on Roopa.
“Don’t you want to know how you figure in her mind?” she said as though to tease him.
“Isn’t it full of regards and all that?” he said pretentiously.
“She wrote that as her friendly half, you’ve immensely influenced her; I too believe you deserve all her praises,” she said heartily.
“It’s really a relief that she’s on the right track; but why such a long hiatus?” he said.
“She wanted to write to us only after making some progress, why not you read it yourself,” she said handing him the letter.
“A beautiful hand,” he said, as he gave the letter back to her.
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