Incessant rhythmic tremors vibrate a nearly empty martini glass kept on a table; I’m desperate to see it leisurely falling off and shattering into pieces so as to know who takes care of a broken object and a fucking stolid life. Colourful ambient lights! Drooping eyelids and swaying bodies, underneath a disco ball, are imitating vibrating, deafening beat drops. I’m at a high-end nightclub in Mumbai, letting life slip away as always. Tick, tock, tick, tock!
Through the hammered crowd dancing on the floor, a young man sitting across gazes at me. Damn! He looks so foreign. The blue jacket on his torso complements his buffed carcass. He’s sitting at the bar, whereas I’m sitting at the dance floor. Perhaps, he has been looking at me for a long time. Glancing away for a few seconds, I look back at him for a fleeting moment. Man! He has everything that stands him out from the berserk crowd. Messy hair, cute spectacles, a golden watch, short pants, and a pair of black Chuck Taylors. He gestures something at me; however, I can’t understand his perplexing hand movements. Hence, he’s definitely not from here. His sign lingo has revealed all about that exotic creature. In return, I make a confusing face and press my lips against each other. I wonder if he can unravel my obvious facial expressions. The very next moment, he gets off the barstool and walks towards me. I subtly take my eyes off him and admire the ostentatious floor beneath my feet. But thinking about his next step makes me a little anxious. When I am about to see where he’s at, a shadow falls upon me. I look up at an animated silhouette; he’s here, standing in front of me.
Pointing to an empty seat next to me, he endearingly asks, “May I sit here?”
I nod.
After settling down beside me, he starts to check me out cleverly. Heels, a black thread around the left ankle, thighs, and the red dress. Intermittently, he peeks, and his curious eyes fall onto the conspicuous crevice on my chest at least thrice. It’s totally fine, as I’ve been accustomed to being stared at. I look at him from the corner of my eye and one by one notice his cleaned shoes, his hairless legs, an ironed white shirt, and a pierced septum.
My uncontrollable urge to see him whole vanquishes my ego; thus, I lay my eyes on him for more than a second this time.
Isn’t he perfect? I ask myself.
Oh no! Not now. My stupid heart starts to flutter fiercely - dhak dhak, dhak dhak… And I wish I could hide traitorous goosebumps on my neck.
Looking back at me, he says, “Hi! My name is Sikandar.”
“Sikandar; Alexander the Great”.
Through the hammered crowd dancing on the floor, a young man sitting across gazes at me. Damn! He looks so foreign. The blue jacket on his torso complements his buffed carcass. He’s sitting at the bar, whereas I’m sitting at the dance floor. Perhaps, he has been looking at me for a long time. Glancing away for a few seconds, I look back at him for a fleeting moment. Man! He has everything that stands him out from the berserk crowd. Messy hair, cute spectacles, a golden watch, short pants, and a pair of black Chuck Taylors. He gestures something at me; however, I can’t understand his perplexing hand movements. Hence, he’s definitely not from here. His sign lingo has revealed all about that exotic creature. In return, I make a confusing face and press my lips against each other. I wonder if he can unravel my obvious facial expressions. The very next moment, he gets off the barstool and walks towards me. I subtly take my eyes off him and admire the ostentatious floor beneath my feet. But thinking about his next step makes me a little anxious. When I am about to see where he’s at, a shadow falls upon me. I look up at an animated silhouette; he’s here, standing in front of me.
Pointing to an empty seat next to me, he endearingly asks, “May I sit here?”
I nod.
After settling down beside me, he starts to check me out cleverly. Heels, a black thread around the left ankle, thighs, and the red dress. Intermittently, he peeks, and his curious eyes fall onto the conspicuous crevice on my chest at least thrice. It’s totally fine, as I’ve been accustomed to being stared at. I look at him from the corner of my eye and one by one notice his cleaned shoes, his hairless legs, an ironed white shirt, and a pierced septum.
My uncontrollable urge to see him whole vanquishes my ego; thus, I lay my eyes on him for more than a second this time.
Isn’t he perfect? I ask myself.
Oh no! Not now. My stupid heart starts to flutter fiercely - dhak dhak, dhak dhak… And I wish I could hide traitorous goosebumps on my neck.
Looking back at me, he says, “Hi! My name is Sikandar.”
“Sikandar; Alexander the Great”.
I tell him a lie, “My name is Natasha.”
“You look…”
Before he completes his sentence, I quickly rise to my feet and walk away, leaving my clutch wallet on the table. I don’t care what Sikandar is thinking right now. I must leave. And I don’t know where, but I have to go. While I exit from the club, a cruel smile distorts my face. And I’m pretty sure that somehow the wallet will come back to me.
It’s the same nightclub where I first met Natasha. I was with my friend. James! Aha! He was a fucking womaniser. I introduced him to a lot of girls and helped him get into the pants of many. In a nutshell, I used to be his wing-woman. Often, Natasha, James, and I would come to this club, running away from monotony. Natasha was James’ new target. However, she was out of his league. She was undoubtedly one of a kind, and he was driven by women that were hard to get.
A screechy car honk brings me back to reality; I find myself on a curb outside the nightclub. I don’t know for how long the car has been here, in front of me. The front window of the car slowly rolls down.
A decent-looking man looks at me and says, “Hey beautiful! Are you going somewhere?”
I look away.
He attempts one more time, “We are partying. You can join us too.”
I ask, “How many are you?”
“We are two men, and we have a beautiful girl with us.”
The back door of the car opens. And I look inside. Behind dense cigarette smoke, a young, cute girl is sitting in the backseat. I can’t lie; she looks extremely gorgeous. I nod my head at the man and get in the car. I sit by the girl. She offers me a cigarette. It's arrogant of me to think of her as an inferior being. Pardon my jealousy! I decline her offer, tenderly shaking my head with a faux smile. The men tell me that they’ll pay me ten thousand rupees for the night. I don’t say much and agree with them. The car reeks of the disgusting smell of whiskey and cigarettes. I clear my throat and adjust myself to the environment. The car seats appear dirty; thus, I make sure that I don’t touch anything greasy or viscous.
After cruising on city roads, the car stops at a cheap motel, Dolly’s Motel, which is somewhere on a highway. I admire the man’s driving abilities. Being totally hammered, he’s driven us safe and sound. Everybody gets out of the car. I look at the motel and think about the standard of this place. Probably, the price of a room for a night is less than the lipstick that I’m wearing - Guerlain. The men book two cheap rooms for the night. Room number 13 and 24.
After discussing who goes with whom, they come to us. The man, who was driving, takes the other girl, and another one leads me to the room named 13. No sooner we enter the room, the man pounces upon me like a hungry wolf attacks its innocent prey. I’m relaxed since, before coming to the club, I lubricated myself down there. Otherwise, this savage would leave me in sheer pain.
He hurriedly undresses me and starts squeezing me everywhere.
“Thank god! He didn’t turn the lights on. A beam of light through a window will be enough to locate curves and an opening.”
He’s doing all that he can do with an unresponsive object. I, after slowly walking backwards, rest myself on the bed when my bare legs touch the cold metal edge of the bed. He stops.
Having worn a thin protective latex, he starts thrusting himself upon me, and I’m lying naked under his heavy torso and sliding up and down with his rhythmic motions. The drinks, at the nightclub, have somewhat made my vision blurry and my senses weak, yet the irrational desire to dominate me in his actions is clearly visible.
My silently enduring the pain makes him penetrate me faster and deeper than earlier. I wonder how he can go deep inside me when he’s measuring my depth with only his phallus.
I don’t want to make him feel bad since ten thousand rupees isn’t a small amount. Thus, I start moaning. I get amused when I see a grin, filled with pride, flashing across his face. I moan louder, and he compliments my moans with his loud grunts. Suddenly, he slows down and intensely pushes his groin against mine as though he desired to be completely sucked into the promised land. He comes closer to me and squeezes my shoulder when he feels an orgasmic pressure around his groin. With a scream, he releases me from his grip and lies beside me. I look at him; he appears satisfied. Then, I look out of the window and see a yellow streetlight; moths and flies are flying around it purposelessly.
After lounging for a moment, he puts on his clothes that he hurriedly took off fifteen minutes ago. He takes out his wallet and counts money.
“Here, ten thousand rupees.”
He throws a bundle of notes onto the bed, collects his belongings, and leaves. Exactly fifteen minutes ago, I was his euphoria, purpose, and meaning of life. Now, I’m just a drunk encounter for him. A fickle mind and endless desires.
I’ve no intention to count the money; I don’t even care whether it’s real or not.
I’m walking on a path to hurt myself, and I’ll keep on walking until I reach a state where my physical pain no longer hurts me, and my sins don’t look uglier than the pain that I get from giving my body to some randy men. It feels as though I were trapped inside a maze made of repentance. But I can walk forever if that’s what it takes.
Donning the red racy one-piece again, I stride out of the motel. And I leave the bundle of notes behind. The sky is completely dark, as the black clouds are hovering over the city.
“It’s about to rain cats and dogs.”
Sitting behind the counter of a kiosk, a man extends a cigarette that I’m not going to pay for. I tell him a lie that I’ve accidentally left my wallet at home. Bared legs and a skinny dress are enough to pay for a cigarette.
I nod my head to his obvious weather forecast and put the cigarette between my lips. The man almost leans over the counter to light the cigarette. I take a long drag, and the harmful smoke fills my lungs and relaxes my mind.
A sensual red dress and a pair of black pencil heels are two things that I’m carrying with me. None of them is important to me, for I’m praised more when I’m without them. Suddenly, a memory flashes in front of me.
Natasha was speaking ill of James. She was exasperated by him and his bizarre attempts to have her. We were at a different club, as she’d asked me to meet at someplace else. James was my good friend. I knew that sometimes he crossed his limits, but he was a good person all in all. I asked Natasha to give him a chance.
The memory vanishes when it starts drizzling. Miniscule raindrops are falling onto the windshields of the cars parked outside the motel. Dolly’s motel is infamous amongst the civvies who look for entertainment at night. Right now, the time is 10 p.m. And it’s the perfect time to hunt for girls who sell their bodies. I’m at the right place. But why does my stomach rumble now?
The next moment, a big car stops near the kiosk, and a man gets out of it. He buys a pack of cigarettes and casually wanders about. After strolling for a while, he comes to me.
“You are…” He doesn’t complete his sentence, but I know what he meant.
“How many are you?” I ask.
“One.”
“I see that there’s one more man in the car.”
“He isn’t coming with me. He has to go somewhere else. I’ll drop him on the way.”
I never trust a man who talks too much, and I think no woman should ever. He keeps on explaining his situation, and I listen to him and observe every expression on his face. Fucking Liar! He asks me to get in his car so that we can discuss comfortably while driving. I smile and do what he says. He ignites the engine and turns up the sound of his music system. I don’t like his taste in music. And I don’t like him.
I distract myself from reality, looking at the wipers moving left and right perpetually. Gradually, the rainfall increases, and ferocious winds are making raindrops perform ballet. Heavy raindrops fall onto the car. Thud, thud, thud! I can’t understand how he can drive when I can’t see beyond ten meters in this heavy rainfall.
Driving the car, the man turns around and gives me a bottle of vodka. He insists that I drink some liquor. I give in to his continuous requests and drink some vodka. God! It burns when neat vodka reaches an empty stomach. The man steers the car to a deserted road and keeps on driving until he reaches a place where I can’t run from.
He turns around and says, “There’s a slight change in the plan. We both will do you and pay you only ten thousand rupees.”
I scoff at his immorality, “No, only one can do me.”
“Get out of the car.”
I disappointedly look at both of them and exit from the car. It’s pouring. The man, who was driving, comes out and starts groping me. I remove his hand off me. The second man also comes out and starts touching me. I turn around to see if there is anyone to help me. Nobody! I do nothing and give my body to them. One by one, they penetrate me. When they’re satisfied, they put me in the backseat of the car. I keep quiet and savour the pain. They stop the car at an abandoned kiosk and say, “Leave the car.”
“I need some food and water.” Before getting out of the car, I plead with them.
One of them nods his head and asks me to wait for them. I take shelter under the kiosk by the road. The rain is relentless. I hear it thrumming on the metal roof and running down the broken pipe into the mud, and I moisten my cracked lips with my tongue. I wonder if they ever bring food and water. I wonder if they’re coming at all. Amidst this chaos, my mind wanders in the past.
James, Natasha, and I were at the same nightclub. Natasha wasn’t feeling comfortable in the presence of James. Although I tried to make the situation less awkward, nothing worked. He was trying everything to have her, but she was least interested in him. Thinking about the last resort, he made a malicious plan. He asked me to mix flunitrazepam in Natasha’s drink. I thought that everything had been already planned and it was just for fun. Thus, I did whatever he asked. Having finished her drink, Natasha felt a little drowsy. James insisted on helping her. He took her out of the nightclub, and I looked around for a dashing man.
It’s probably been more than an hour and nobody comes. I stand up, arrange my pretty dress, wear my heels, and tie my hair neatly. Having been completely drenched in rain, I lamely walk towards the city and keep on walking. I see an old man outside a hotel called Grand Oyster.
“What’s the time?”
The old man looks at his mobile phone, “It’s four in the morning.”
The rain has stopped, and the sun will rise soon. I ask the old man if I can use his phone to make a call. Without thinking for a second, he gives his phone. Keeping in mind whom I have to call, I dial a phone number.
As soon as the call is picked, I say, “I am at Hotel Grand Oyster. Please come fast!”
I disconnect the call and give the phone back to the old man. I ask whether he can lend me a cigarette. He laughs at my request and asks, “Do you smoke bidis?”
I smile and nod, and he gives me a bundle of bidis, and I take one out. Far from any prejudice, his eyes are old and seem full of wisdom. He gives me a matchbox. I light the bidi and exhale a dense smoke in which I can see my sins.
After taking Natasha to his home, James had sex with her. He believed that it was the only way to have her, and he thought that he would explain everything to her later. When she got up, she saw herself naked with James. She lost her mind. She took a knife from the kitchen and slashed his throat. Later that night, she called me and said, “I wish you would feel the same pain that I feel right now.” The very night, I got the news that Natasha had killed herself. After killing James, she jumped off the building.
It’s been only fifteen minutes since I called. A BMW stops in front of me. The driver immediately comes out of the car and opens the door for me. I look at the old man and smile.
I say - “Take me home.”
“Ji, ma’am!” He presses the accelerator as hard as he can.
Suddenly I get a phone call, “Yes!”
The voice from the other side, “Ma’am, some Sikandar is asking for you.”
“You look…”
Before he completes his sentence, I quickly rise to my feet and walk away, leaving my clutch wallet on the table. I don’t care what Sikandar is thinking right now. I must leave. And I don’t know where, but I have to go. While I exit from the club, a cruel smile distorts my face. And I’m pretty sure that somehow the wallet will come back to me.
It’s the same nightclub where I first met Natasha. I was with my friend. James! Aha! He was a fucking womaniser. I introduced him to a lot of girls and helped him get into the pants of many. In a nutshell, I used to be his wing-woman. Often, Natasha, James, and I would come to this club, running away from monotony. Natasha was James’ new target. However, she was out of his league. She was undoubtedly one of a kind, and he was driven by women that were hard to get.
A screechy car honk brings me back to reality; I find myself on a curb outside the nightclub. I don’t know for how long the car has been here, in front of me. The front window of the car slowly rolls down.
A decent-looking man looks at me and says, “Hey beautiful! Are you going somewhere?”
I look away.
He attempts one more time, “We are partying. You can join us too.”
I ask, “How many are you?”
“We are two men, and we have a beautiful girl with us.”
The back door of the car opens. And I look inside. Behind dense cigarette smoke, a young, cute girl is sitting in the backseat. I can’t lie; she looks extremely gorgeous. I nod my head at the man and get in the car. I sit by the girl. She offers me a cigarette. It's arrogant of me to think of her as an inferior being. Pardon my jealousy! I decline her offer, tenderly shaking my head with a faux smile. The men tell me that they’ll pay me ten thousand rupees for the night. I don’t say much and agree with them. The car reeks of the disgusting smell of whiskey and cigarettes. I clear my throat and adjust myself to the environment. The car seats appear dirty; thus, I make sure that I don’t touch anything greasy or viscous.
After cruising on city roads, the car stops at a cheap motel, Dolly’s Motel, which is somewhere on a highway. I admire the man’s driving abilities. Being totally hammered, he’s driven us safe and sound. Everybody gets out of the car. I look at the motel and think about the standard of this place. Probably, the price of a room for a night is less than the lipstick that I’m wearing - Guerlain. The men book two cheap rooms for the night. Room number 13 and 24.
After discussing who goes with whom, they come to us. The man, who was driving, takes the other girl, and another one leads me to the room named 13. No sooner we enter the room, the man pounces upon me like a hungry wolf attacks its innocent prey. I’m relaxed since, before coming to the club, I lubricated myself down there. Otherwise, this savage would leave me in sheer pain.
He hurriedly undresses me and starts squeezing me everywhere.
“Thank god! He didn’t turn the lights on. A beam of light through a window will be enough to locate curves and an opening.”
He’s doing all that he can do with an unresponsive object. I, after slowly walking backwards, rest myself on the bed when my bare legs touch the cold metal edge of the bed. He stops.
Having worn a thin protective latex, he starts thrusting himself upon me, and I’m lying naked under his heavy torso and sliding up and down with his rhythmic motions. The drinks, at the nightclub, have somewhat made my vision blurry and my senses weak, yet the irrational desire to dominate me in his actions is clearly visible.
My silently enduring the pain makes him penetrate me faster and deeper than earlier. I wonder how he can go deep inside me when he’s measuring my depth with only his phallus.
I don’t want to make him feel bad since ten thousand rupees isn’t a small amount. Thus, I start moaning. I get amused when I see a grin, filled with pride, flashing across his face. I moan louder, and he compliments my moans with his loud grunts. Suddenly, he slows down and intensely pushes his groin against mine as though he desired to be completely sucked into the promised land. He comes closer to me and squeezes my shoulder when he feels an orgasmic pressure around his groin. With a scream, he releases me from his grip and lies beside me. I look at him; he appears satisfied. Then, I look out of the window and see a yellow streetlight; moths and flies are flying around it purposelessly.
After lounging for a moment, he puts on his clothes that he hurriedly took off fifteen minutes ago. He takes out his wallet and counts money.
“Here, ten thousand rupees.”
He throws a bundle of notes onto the bed, collects his belongings, and leaves. Exactly fifteen minutes ago, I was his euphoria, purpose, and meaning of life. Now, I’m just a drunk encounter for him. A fickle mind and endless desires.
I’ve no intention to count the money; I don’t even care whether it’s real or not.
I’m walking on a path to hurt myself, and I’ll keep on walking until I reach a state where my physical pain no longer hurts me, and my sins don’t look uglier than the pain that I get from giving my body to some randy men. It feels as though I were trapped inside a maze made of repentance. But I can walk forever if that’s what it takes.
Donning the red racy one-piece again, I stride out of the motel. And I leave the bundle of notes behind. The sky is completely dark, as the black clouds are hovering over the city.
“It’s about to rain cats and dogs.”
Sitting behind the counter of a kiosk, a man extends a cigarette that I’m not going to pay for. I tell him a lie that I’ve accidentally left my wallet at home. Bared legs and a skinny dress are enough to pay for a cigarette.
I nod my head to his obvious weather forecast and put the cigarette between my lips. The man almost leans over the counter to light the cigarette. I take a long drag, and the harmful smoke fills my lungs and relaxes my mind.
A sensual red dress and a pair of black pencil heels are two things that I’m carrying with me. None of them is important to me, for I’m praised more when I’m without them. Suddenly, a memory flashes in front of me.
Natasha was speaking ill of James. She was exasperated by him and his bizarre attempts to have her. We were at a different club, as she’d asked me to meet at someplace else. James was my good friend. I knew that sometimes he crossed his limits, but he was a good person all in all. I asked Natasha to give him a chance.
The memory vanishes when it starts drizzling. Miniscule raindrops are falling onto the windshields of the cars parked outside the motel. Dolly’s motel is infamous amongst the civvies who look for entertainment at night. Right now, the time is 10 p.m. And it’s the perfect time to hunt for girls who sell their bodies. I’m at the right place. But why does my stomach rumble now?
The next moment, a big car stops near the kiosk, and a man gets out of it. He buys a pack of cigarettes and casually wanders about. After strolling for a while, he comes to me.
“You are…” He doesn’t complete his sentence, but I know what he meant.
“How many are you?” I ask.
“One.”
“I see that there’s one more man in the car.”
“He isn’t coming with me. He has to go somewhere else. I’ll drop him on the way.”
I never trust a man who talks too much, and I think no woman should ever. He keeps on explaining his situation, and I listen to him and observe every expression on his face. Fucking Liar! He asks me to get in his car so that we can discuss comfortably while driving. I smile and do what he says. He ignites the engine and turns up the sound of his music system. I don’t like his taste in music. And I don’t like him.
I distract myself from reality, looking at the wipers moving left and right perpetually. Gradually, the rainfall increases, and ferocious winds are making raindrops perform ballet. Heavy raindrops fall onto the car. Thud, thud, thud! I can’t understand how he can drive when I can’t see beyond ten meters in this heavy rainfall.
Driving the car, the man turns around and gives me a bottle of vodka. He insists that I drink some liquor. I give in to his continuous requests and drink some vodka. God! It burns when neat vodka reaches an empty stomach. The man steers the car to a deserted road and keeps on driving until he reaches a place where I can’t run from.
He turns around and says, “There’s a slight change in the plan. We both will do you and pay you only ten thousand rupees.”
I scoff at his immorality, “No, only one can do me.”
“Get out of the car.”
I disappointedly look at both of them and exit from the car. It’s pouring. The man, who was driving, comes out and starts groping me. I remove his hand off me. The second man also comes out and starts touching me. I turn around to see if there is anyone to help me. Nobody! I do nothing and give my body to them. One by one, they penetrate me. When they’re satisfied, they put me in the backseat of the car. I keep quiet and savour the pain. They stop the car at an abandoned kiosk and say, “Leave the car.”
“I need some food and water.” Before getting out of the car, I plead with them.
One of them nods his head and asks me to wait for them. I take shelter under the kiosk by the road. The rain is relentless. I hear it thrumming on the metal roof and running down the broken pipe into the mud, and I moisten my cracked lips with my tongue. I wonder if they ever bring food and water. I wonder if they’re coming at all. Amidst this chaos, my mind wanders in the past.
James, Natasha, and I were at the same nightclub. Natasha wasn’t feeling comfortable in the presence of James. Although I tried to make the situation less awkward, nothing worked. He was trying everything to have her, but she was least interested in him. Thinking about the last resort, he made a malicious plan. He asked me to mix flunitrazepam in Natasha’s drink. I thought that everything had been already planned and it was just for fun. Thus, I did whatever he asked. Having finished her drink, Natasha felt a little drowsy. James insisted on helping her. He took her out of the nightclub, and I looked around for a dashing man.
It’s probably been more than an hour and nobody comes. I stand up, arrange my pretty dress, wear my heels, and tie my hair neatly. Having been completely drenched in rain, I lamely walk towards the city and keep on walking. I see an old man outside a hotel called Grand Oyster.
“What’s the time?”
The old man looks at his mobile phone, “It’s four in the morning.”
The rain has stopped, and the sun will rise soon. I ask the old man if I can use his phone to make a call. Without thinking for a second, he gives his phone. Keeping in mind whom I have to call, I dial a phone number.
As soon as the call is picked, I say, “I am at Hotel Grand Oyster. Please come fast!”
I disconnect the call and give the phone back to the old man. I ask whether he can lend me a cigarette. He laughs at my request and asks, “Do you smoke bidis?”
I smile and nod, and he gives me a bundle of bidis, and I take one out. Far from any prejudice, his eyes are old and seem full of wisdom. He gives me a matchbox. I light the bidi and exhale a dense smoke in which I can see my sins.
After taking Natasha to his home, James had sex with her. He believed that it was the only way to have her, and he thought that he would explain everything to her later. When she got up, she saw herself naked with James. She lost her mind. She took a knife from the kitchen and slashed his throat. Later that night, she called me and said, “I wish you would feel the same pain that I feel right now.” The very night, I got the news that Natasha had killed herself. After killing James, she jumped off the building.
It’s been only fifteen minutes since I called. A BMW stops in front of me. The driver immediately comes out of the car and opens the door for me. I look at the old man and smile.
I say - “Take me home.”
“Ji, ma’am!” He presses the accelerator as hard as he can.
Suddenly I get a phone call, “Yes!”
The voice from the other side, “Ma’am, some Sikandar is asking for you.”
Very well written ���� . Interesting story
ReplyDelete