“Isn’t it very uncomfortable to walk around in those shoes?” he asked, and I felt absurd enough to change.
“It can be difficult in the beginning,” Uma consoled. “Especially with someone who has as slow a fuse as Karun. Anoop suffered from it a bit too—do you remember how hard I had to work to pull him in, play Shakuntala to his Valmiki? It’s probably true of all these scientist types—always in need of polishing, always too distracted by their theories—they simply don’t spend enough time around women. Have you tried just talking about it?”
“It’s not exactly easy to bring up. Besides, he might freeze—I don’t want to confront him.”
“Then don’t talk, just act. Touch where needed. You have to do something before he convinces himself that cuddling is all you require of him.”
That night, as Karun lay shirtless by my side, I played with his trail of chest hair all the way down to his navel. I let my hand stray under the edge of the sheet across his waist. Slowly, I rolled back the sunflowers, then loosened his pajamas to uncover what nestled there. For a moment, I let him get accustomed to the sensation of being bare.
He kept his eyes closed, but shifted noticeably as my fingers began their exploration of his groin. His entire body tensed as I brushed against his manhood—the contact startled me as well. I waited a moment before trying a tentative stroke—this time, he emitted a truncated groan. I almost withdrew, but Uma’s voice urged me to continue. “One of the partners has to take an active role,” she said, “and in this relationship, it’s you.” Sliding my fingers around, I took Karun’s penis in my hand.
“Sarita,” he gasped, and I looked at him. His face was bloodless, his lips chalky, his eyes filled with panic. “Stop. I can’t,” he said, and instantly, I released him.
“I can’t,” he repeated, and pulling the sunflowers up to his neck, turned towards the edge of the bed.
EMERGING FROM THE canteen stairwell, I notice a man on the aquarium steps, trying to peer into the lobby. Hearing the door shut behind me, he turns around. “There you are, thank goodness.” He comes down the steps towards me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I reply warily. He speaks with a slight accent, which I can’t place. His features look keenly familiar—the short, impeccable hair, the hint of smolder in his eyes. I feel I should be able to recognize him—is he one of Karun’s work friends?
“I lost you. When the guns started firing, you ran too fast. I walked all the way to the overhead bridge near Chowpatty, then thought you might have ducked in here and came back. I’m so glad.” He pauses. “You don’t recognize me, do you? I’m Gaurav, from the hospital. The one you saved? I know it was dark.”
“Gaurav?”
“Yes, please call me that. I thought I’d repay you somehow.”
“You’ve been following me?” The idea makes me feel vulnerable, exposed. Should I try to run back up the canteen steps? Which presents the greater danger: this man’s stalking or Hrithik’s adolescent fantasies?
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t attacked. All the hoodlums around in khaki—it’s the least I could do, I said to myself. I tried to ask you before in the hospital where you were going, but you misunderstood, perhaps. I overheard you inquire about trains from those dressed-up people and just wanted to say I was headed to the suburbs as well.”
His explanation sounds plausible enough—perhaps I’ve been overwrought in my assessment. He doesn’t come across as a sexual predator, even if I can’t be absolutely certain he’s not lying. “You saved my life,” he continues. “Let me do this to reciprocate. Ensure you get to your destination, accompany you for safety’s sake.”
I’m taken aback. War or no war, he’s still a stranger, his offer plainly presumptuous. “I’m fine, thanks. I don’t need an escort.”
“I would consider it
“It can be difficult in the beginning,” Uma consoled. “Especially with someone who has as slow a fuse as Karun. Anoop suffered from it a bit too—do you remember how hard I had to work to pull him in, play Shakuntala to his Valmiki? It’s probably true of all these scientist types—always in need of polishing, always too distracted by their theories—they simply don’t spend enough time around women. Have you tried just talking about it?”
“It’s not exactly easy to bring up. Besides, he might freeze—I don’t want to confront him.”
“Then don’t talk, just act. Touch where needed. You have to do something before he convinces himself that cuddling is all you require of him.”
That night, as Karun lay shirtless by my side, I played with his trail of chest hair all the way down to his navel. I let my hand stray under the edge of the sheet across his waist. Slowly, I rolled back the sunflowers, then loosened his pajamas to uncover what nestled there. For a moment, I let him get accustomed to the sensation of being bare.
He kept his eyes closed, but shifted noticeably as my fingers began their exploration of his groin. His entire body tensed as I brushed against his manhood—the contact startled me as well. I waited a moment before trying a tentative stroke—this time, he emitted a truncated groan. I almost withdrew, but Uma’s voice urged me to continue. “One of the partners has to take an active role,” she said, “and in this relationship, it’s you.” Sliding my fingers around, I took Karun’s penis in my hand.
“Sarita,” he gasped, and I looked at him. His face was bloodless, his lips chalky, his eyes filled with panic. “Stop. I can’t,” he said, and instantly, I released him.
“I can’t,” he repeated, and pulling the sunflowers up to his neck, turned towards the edge of the bed.
EMERGING FROM THE canteen stairwell, I notice a man on the aquarium steps, trying to peer into the lobby. Hearing the door shut behind me, he turns around. “There you are, thank goodness.” He comes down the steps towards me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I reply warily. He speaks with a slight accent, which I can’t place. His features look keenly familiar—the short, impeccable hair, the hint of smolder in his eyes. I feel I should be able to recognize him—is he one of Karun’s work friends?
“I lost you. When the guns started firing, you ran too fast. I walked all the way to the overhead bridge near Chowpatty, then thought you might have ducked in here and came back. I’m so glad.” He pauses. “You don’t recognize me, do you? I’m Gaurav, from the hospital. The one you saved? I know it was dark.”
“Gaurav?”
“Yes, please call me that. I thought I’d repay you somehow.”
“You’ve been following me?” The idea makes me feel vulnerable, exposed. Should I try to run back up the canteen steps? Which presents the greater danger: this man’s stalking or Hrithik’s adolescent fantasies?
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t attacked. All the hoodlums around in khaki—it’s the least I could do, I said to myself. I tried to ask you before in the hospital where you were going, but you misunderstood, perhaps. I overheard you inquire about trains from those dressed-up people and just wanted to say I was headed to the suburbs as well.”
His explanation sounds plausible enough—perhaps I’ve been overwrought in my assessment. He doesn’t come across as a sexual predator, even if I can’t be absolutely certain he’s not lying. “You saved my life,” he continues. “Let me do this to reciprocate. Ensure you get to your destination, accompany you for safety’s sake.”
I’m taken aback. War or no war, he’s still a stranger, his offer plainly presumptuous. “I’m fine, thanks. I don’t need an escort.”
“I would consider it
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