I am not your Kept.........

My Passport- Part1

 I looked at my watch. It was 1:10 am, but I could not sleep ...I was still wondering about getting my passport.  This was a great career opportunity and everything was in line, except my passport.

Getting a passport in 10 days?  Well...Impossible.  I closed my eyes, but my mind was still searching for options.

“Should I visit her?” I asked myself. I looked at the watch again. 1:15 am. It was late but anyways I could not sleep. I frantically searched for her card in my cupboard. There it was, kept among my books. I never thought I will use it. I looked at it and noted the address.

Kaur, Rup & Sons
Proprietor – Ms. B. Acharya
393/6/7Z;
Rajouri Garden
New Delhi

I quietly sneaked out of my house and after mindlessly roaming on the roads of Delhi I finally reached her house. Looked at my watch. It was 2:20 am. I knocked at the door. “Come in” a voice called out from inside. Realising the door is already open, I went inside.

 

I AM NOT YOUR KEPT

She was standing in front of a mirror, looking at her own reflection.  Around 5 feet 5 inches tall, her curvaceous body took my eyes for a roller coaster ride.

“So finally you came to me”, She said still looking into the mirror. “Don’t worry, you will not regret” She turned to me, smiling.   My eyes smiled back.

My eye was like a small kid standing at the gate of an amusement park, confused where to start from.

Finally it jumped into her eyes and played with her eyelashes. Then sliding down her sharp nose, it fell on to her lower lips. Her lips were slippery with thick layer of lip gloss on it. My eye slipped off her lips, bounced off her chin and reached her collar bone.

She was not skinny yet her collar bones were so prominent, so sharp they made a cradle below her neck. My eye nestled into that cradle and almost fell asleep.

But then suddenly it saw below her collar bone and with devilish lust on its face it descended down her body.

While all this was happening my ears were focused on her voice. “So, tell me what can I do for you?” She asked.

“I need your help” I answered. She walked towards me.

“Let’s go inside the bedroom first” She said with a mischievous smile on her face. “And don’t worry I will take care of it” She said as if she already knew about my problem. Turning her back towards me she pulled out her hair pin, letting her hair fall loose.  I badly wanted my eyes to look up to her hair once.

But there is one thing about our eyes.  Once they start looking down, it is very difficult to make them look up again.

She came close to me, and holding me in her arms, she whispered in my ears, “Stop pretending, you know....and now even I know, you cannot resist me” She pushed me on her bed.

Explaining what happened after that is not my cup of tea.....Well I don’t have the flair of E. L. James.

I do wish, I had.

But I will tell you one thing, no matter how loudly we proclaim “Being Human”, the physical love making between a man and a woman is god’s way of telling us that we are yet to evolve. Though it all starts in the name of Love, but ends up, making mockery of it.

So, the next 15 minutes was a circus like exhibition where I became a ring master, a loin, a tiger, an elephant, a monkey, a dog......and finally..... a harmless little child.  Exhausted, I closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes, it was 5:30 in the morning.  “Oh God, I will get caught” I mumbled to myself, and started getting dressed as fast as I could. She got up too.

“So you are Getting ready, it’s time to leave I guess?” She asked, lighting a cigarette. “I understand, you don’t want the world to know you were here.”

She went to the window, smoking the cigarette.

 “They all have used me over and over again and yet they pretend as if they don’t know me” she said looking outside the window.  “And you are no different; from tomorrow even you would join the bandwagon of people who curse me.”

“You see the house at the corner of the street?” She asked.

“That is where Mr. Malhotra lives”. She pointed at a house outside. “Mr. Malhotra”, she said. “Has a beautiful wife and an 8 year old son. Every morning on breakfast table, he curses me. From Share market to IPL for every bad news in the paper, Mr. Malhotra has one solution......killing me......” She took a puff on her cigarette and the smoke almost veiled her face. She looked enigmatic behind that veil.

She continued in a pensive tone.

“I still remember, the day he came to me, asking for help to get his son admitted to one of the most prestigious school in town”. She tapped off the ash on the floor; “He wanted his son in that school at any cost ......it was his prestige issue.”

Her eyes were fixed somewhere as if she was trying to recall the incident.

“That day”, she took a puff again, “dressed in a revealing outfit I went with him to meet the school authorities.” She said.

“His son is in Third standard now” She looked at me and winked.   “His neighbour Mr. Kumar made me sleep with the builders to get his flat registered. Mr. Sahay, Mr. Pandit, Mr. Karim, Mr. Singh you name them and I have served them all.” She walked towards me. 

“From getting a driving licence, to gas connections.... even a death certificate you people want me to do it for you. And then you pretend you hate me.”  She said in a harsh tone.

Suddenly her expressions changed from a sensuous seductress to a deeply hurt woman.

“I am what I am, because of you, because of Mr. Malhotra, Mr. Kumar, Mr. Karim... and all those out there who curse my existence during the day time but cling on to me, with all their tentacles, during night, yes..... with all their tentacles” She paused and then continued. “And you humans have many tentacles.”

She was shaking with anger.

“If you really want to get rid of me...just look into my eyes and say that that you don’t need me anymore......but I know, you don’t have the strength to live without me.” She said, walking towards the door.

“Believe me, even I am tired of being with you, standing for you, holding your hand when you make mistakes and bailing you out of your troubles.” She opened the door, as if asking me to leave. I started to walk towards the door.

“While you curse me during the day you quietly sneak into my chamber during night” She caught my hand as I walked past her.  “I am not your kept Mr. Singh” She said and let go my hand. “Either accept me in open or let me go forever.” She banged the door behind me.

 

My Passport – Part2

Suddenly I heard someone knocking at the door.  “Wake up...wake up, it is 9:30 already”. I opened my eyes only to realise I was dreaming all night, I am in my house, on my bed and it is my mother knocking at the door.

 I opened the door and went into the kitchen looking for a cup of tea.

“Where is Dad?” I asked. “He is in the guest room with some agent, who could help us in getting your passport” my mother replied.
“Agent? Where did he get hold of an agent?” I asked, surprised.

“I don’t know, I thought she is here because you called her” My mother replied.

Anyways, still thinking of my dream I came back to my room, slumped on a chair and started sipping the morning tea.

I overheard the conversation going on in the guest room between my father and a lady.

“Well....I should leave now, you just ask him to meet me” the lady said. “Can I look at the newspaper for a moment, please” She asked.

“Yes, of course” my father replied, perhaps he handed over the paper to her.

“Look, now they have a whole election campaign against corruption” She said. “Do you really think you need the Modis and the Kejriwals to fight corruption?” She asked.

“If we want to get rid of it, we just need to look into its eyes and say we don’t need it” She said.

“But the fact is, we cannot live without corruption and will need it, to bail us out of our troubles” She added.

“But one thing we need to understand Mr. Singh, corruption is not our kept that we can use at our will and then curse for the sake of morality” she said in a tone that seemed familiar to me.

I almost choked while drinking my tea. What I just heard gave me goose bumps. With shaking hands I kept my cup on the table and ran to the guest room. She was not there.

“Where is she?” I asked my father. “She left” he replied.

I ran to the gate, but could see her....I ran up to the terrace, I still could not see her.

I came back to the guest room, confused and lost, when my father said “She said you called her, but didn’t want us to wake you up”

“She has left her card on the table” my father added.

I picked up the card from the centre table, and it read.

Kaur, Rup & Sons

Proprietor – Ms. Barshaat Acharya

393/6/7Z;

Rajouri Garden

New Delhi

 

 

(All names and addresses and incidents are purely imaginery and has nothing to do with any one dead or alive...this is just a story...written on corruption.)