“Jana Gana Mana Adhinayak….” The students of DPS sang the National Anthem not knowing the meaning of half of the words. Yet they sang it with grit and determination, because they were asked to do so by people whose ears were drummed with the same instruction a couple of decades ago. Nitin stood there with his hair neatly combed and smelling of a mixture of cologne and lust. He always wondered if everybody else in the Assembly closed their eyes when they were singing the National Anthem. He glanced through the corner of his right eye and realized that the world was not such a bad place after all. With closed eyes, over a hundred kids sang the National Anthem, the girls of the school still wore the same short skirts, his mom back home had promised him a plate of Jalebi and the Kaali Sadak was not so Kaali after all.
“Jaya hey, Jaya hey, Jaya hey….”, the whole assemblage sang in chorus forcing Nitin, to come out from the deep thought. He had 8 classes that day which included a lecture on Moral Science by Mrs Tripathi, which he hated. He always thought of it as an interval to draw pictures of Ghostbusters on the last page of his book. Slowly he walked into class and sat on his bench. Mr Awasthi opened the door with a book in hand titled “English Literature for Class 9”. Ah! Literature! Nitin was of the opinion that, men who could not understand Math and Science, created literature.
“A Sinful Apple”, wrote Mr Awasthi on the big blackboard that Nitin faced. Adam and Eve stood below a tree with Adam holding a dark red apple in his hand. At some distance away behind stood Eve,The tree of Knowledge of the Good and Evil. He wondered what the apple did to Adam, Eve, their situation and the world around them! Eve was beautiful and naked. Nitin observed that carefully. The line had been crossed. The sin, committed.
A paper rocket flew from the back to land on Nitin’s book. Surprised, he opened it to read what was written.
“Kal shyaam kahan tha?”
Suddenly Adam and Eve vanished. He was perspiring as he tried to loosen his tie. He looked at his book again. He could see the apple. Just the apple.
A glance towards the benches at the back indicated it was Rohan who threw the paper.
He suddenly realized it was Rohan’s name that he had said at home last night, when he was asked about his whereabouts. How could he tell his mother he was holding hands with a prostitute right in the middle of the road after his test when he was expected to come back home, drink a glass of milk and tell her about how he had fared in the tests?
“Library mein”
The paper rocket was flown back. Nitin still could see just the apple.
“Abe next time pehle se bola kar. Your mom had called me last night, poochne ke liye!”
Nitin was relieved. He marked a dot on his right hand which he thought would remind him of informing Rohan. He looked at Rohan smiled and looked into the book. Adam and Eve were back.
His evenings had been a routine now. The old gate of his school stood at its place, which opened to a million possibilities, out of which he chose the one that many abstained from. She stood at the entrance anticipating his arrival, making him feel that for the first time “somebody” from the Kaali Sadak waited for him there. He walked towards her. Shivers ran down her spine. A million men had come and gone and she always knew what to expect but today, her heart was beating fast. She picked her pallu and started chewing one of the corners. Nitin noticed that her saree was not crumpled today and her hair neatly tied.
He sat on an ancient chair while she stood near the door. Feeble music played off a radio somewhere far, “Aadam ke hawwa se rishte ki duniya…”. She ignored it.
“Tera naam kya hai?” she asked him.
“Nitin. Aapka?”. He had always respected elders.
“Shaila”.
“Achcha. Paani chahiye?”, she asked.
He was definitely thirsty. He was since he had seen that poster.
“Nahi, mai chalta hun.”, Nitin got up and started walking fast. He had to go back home. His parents were waiting. He had to go practice for his U-16 cricket tournament. He was under Sixteen. “Bhaag Nitin Bhaag!!”
“Phir kab ayega?” cried a faint voice.
“Kal!” and he ran. His decision to come back tomorrow had already made her happy.
The Next Day.
It was raining in
Nitin started walking. He saw a few of his schoolmates walk in front of him. He waited under a tree, till he confirmed the fact that nobody saw him. He walked through the same streets without noticing that the posters were all torn now. He now walked as a man. He walked towards her.
There was no power on Kaali Sadak. There were candles lit in all the rooms. Nitin identified his room. Shaila was waiting there. She looked beautiful today. The whole place looked beautiful today. It’s true, when you want something; the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. He went in. The doors closed behind him.
It was his first time and she was going to be taking the lead through most of it and she enjoyed it. Just being behind closed doors brought butterflies in his stomach. She had been behind them for as long as she could remember. But today was special for her too. It was going to be love and not sex. Something her body and mind had craved for since she was thrown here at the mercy of men. She had HAD and acted all the moves of desire. Yet she was as tingled as he was. She slipped the saree that draped her curves. For him it was the actress out of the poster. The cleavage that created chaos in his mind was at his disposal and he surprised himself when he hesitated to feel them. Just when he gathered his guts to feel them she pressed her lips against, before he knew his tongue swayed into her mouth looking for the unexplored world of satisfaction. She undid his clothes. Every inch of cloth that covered his nakedness was now covering the stains that droned the floor. He was so aware of his exposed self; he turned around in an attempt to hide a part of his shame. It was her bare touch that made him feel equal, on par.
Nitin had never seen one of those educational videos nor the pleasurable ones, he cursed himself for his lack of awareness now. He felt every inch of her curves; it was all that was needed for his manhood to scream out loud. He felt like a kid at a fantasy park who had been permitted all the rides. He had been permitted this ride and he didn’t know its course.
What she did disgusted him, but that feeling barely lasted a few seconds, what it did to his body, overshadowed the disgust. His knees felt weak. He mapped this to ecstasy. One of the cylindrical synthetic tubes now droned him. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do what Mr.Shastry had referred to as intercourse. She led him inside her. He didn’t need any guiding after that. The testosterone thrust itself into her, she felt what those hundred men had paid her to feel, the venereal zenith of this trade.
She stood at the door again when he was preparing to leave. He wasn’t wearing his raincoat now. He was exhausted. She experienced love. His thirst had been quenched.
“Phir kab aayega?”.
“Kal”. And he walked away. She stood there, a woman in love. He walked back. Nitin, walked back. A man, walked back.
It was Friday. The clouds had cleared for the blue skies. Sunshine made its way across the tress and rested on the streets. Shaila was up very early today. She had an early bath and visited the temple. For the first time she thanked God and was not praying. She wore a clean sari, bought some flowers. She cleaned her room and lit a couple of incense sticks. She waited.
The clock ticked 6. Men had already started coming to the street, but Shaila didn’t bother.
Last night she thought was the first night of her new life. First night. She smiled.
Nitin came. She saw him. He smiled. She smiled too. He didn’t walk towards her. He looked at his watch and waited. Exactly 2 minutes later, a college going student came and shook hands with Nitin. Shaila was perplexed. Nitin and the new person walked towards her.
“Yahi hai!”, Nitin said and the guy scanned her, taking his own time at certain places.
“Sahi Hai!” the guy winked at Nitin. He thanked Nitin waved him goodbye. Her thoughts fell into place now.
Again that night desires met destinations, thirst met satisfaction and “the masculine” met “the effeminate”. Again, that night somewhere far a radio played. “Aadam ke hawwa se rishte ki duniya o duniya re...."
P.S.: Special thanks to Shwetha Nairy again for her valuable inputs and editing.
