Everybody Cheats-VIII

…Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love….

No, don’t start wah-wah. I could never write such words on my own. It was some jottings I took from my old diary; it must be from some book. Don’t remember after so many years now. Bottom-line is those words are not mine but I could relate to them definitely at some points/years of my life.

After my part-VII, I was on home page. That was twice in one and half months. So many mails, messages and even one phone call. Some I did try to inform that rediff must be having some computer generated random blog-picks to feature on home page and I just got lucky, I never written anything in my life. Not even in school or college magazines or as a high school kid after his first date attempting rosy billet-doux to the pony-tailed girl! And the reactions I got from them.. “Come on Sid.. Modesty has its limit!”.. or.. “Abbey kyun bhau kha raha hai?”..or.. “ ok ok pal, so you appointed Salman Rushdie or cloned a MillsNBoon and they wrote it for you”…. Even one said, “Sometimes I think you are a woman writing all these!”.

Sigh!! Honesty still doesn’t pay these days. It never did.

However now back to the “ashtray”.

So I came down to Dev’s apartment living room from their terrace and Ms.Leo followed me to help me find the ashtray in her house. We entered the kitchen. Rather she entered the kitchen and I kind of followed her inside. The power went off!

Now I just hinted one of fellow islanders “what happened next” after she read my last blog. Her immediate reaction was.. “How convenient!”. I dint tell her anything after that. She will wait till I post it here.

Honestly it was not so ‘convenient’ then. My open toed keetoes was stepped upon by her almost pin-pointed stiletto!!

Me:- Shiiiiiiit !!

I tried to bend forward to touch my toes.

Her:- uhh ..Sorry!

She tried to move away, I guess, but could not see anything as it was almost pitch dark.[ even street lights were off and since it was on 5^th floor, no car lights either]

Me:- Naah.. Its ok.. Just…

I am still trying to bend forward my hands towards my toes. All my fingers could find the hem or end of her sari touching her feet.

She:- ummm… Sid…

I in one jhatka tried to remove my hand, giving up hope to find my smashed toes and started standing up again.

Me:- ohhh am sowyeee….

Its still dark. The apartment generator when it starts just before one minute it gives a vibrating noise meaning within one minute lights will be on. I did not hear the generator vibration yet. At least I had one minute in dark still… yes, that was the thought of the moment for me.

She:- ..Mmm.. Lights will come.. I hurt your feet.. err….

Why she was almost whispering those words? While getting up in hurry my hands coming up ‘with’ her sari and petticoat. Now don’t get ideas here folks! In sheer honesty even today I vouch it was UNINTENTIONAL!

She:- ..Mmmm.. Sid.. You..

My fingers playing piano over her naked knee. Silky smooth. I never touched any woman’s knee in dark like this before in my life. May be it was a Pico-second or less. But I did not remove my hand from her knee. She dint move.

Me:- ahhh.. I am….

I remove my hand. Step back, bumping my ass against the kitchen sink and stand up.

The Generator was on.  As if we both said together, “let there be light” and there came light. We looked at each other. Eyes. Deep. No words. We came out of kitchen.

Me:- I am sorry, it was so dark….

She:- You need dettol .. See… I hardly wear this shoe..

Me:- Na, its ok…. Am fine

Not one but three ashtrays I could see in one glance around her living room in different locations. I picked up the nearest one and walked up the terrace again.

Ms.Leo came back to terrace after a while, with ice or some food, I don’t remember. People around… laughing, joking, kids running around, taking photographs, men drinking huddled in one corner, women around a table sitting together giggling, talking. I joined the men’s group. She got busy around the table arranging food etc.

Rest of the evening was routine, normal as it should have been.

Around midnight it’s all happy birthday to Dev’s son, who was fast asleep by the time in their bedroom. Bye byes…Pineapple chutney was great…Vikash you had at least six pegs….Sharmila are you working tomorrow….RK hey I can drop you…..Nahi yaar have a meeting tom…good nights..etc etc.

I was the quieter one. All I could think then, I wanted to remove that loose strand of hair from her forehead behind her ear. Chandramukhi (my wife!) informed me in car one of the woman wore the same sari she had when they came to our house about a month back.. Also, I was told the panir was not cooked by Dev’s wife it was from a restaurant. I kept on driving.

Next morning the moment I entered my office I had a sms.

.. “Your fingers were cold”..

It was ‘her’. I replied back, “generator of your apartment need servicing”.

‘Her’ next sms was a clincher… “Dev going to Chennai for a week”.

I started my day at office.