| Username |
Post |
| Tuppi |
Posted
on 13-Jan-04 03:23 PM
He woke up with a terrible headache. It was one of those cold mornings that one wants to spend hiding inside his blanket. ‘Bhuteko bhattmas and makai’ with ‘milk tea spiced with ginger and balckpepper’. What a medicine for headache. He looked at his kerosene stove. It looked as cold as himself. There was no way he could get up and go to the kitchen. He was alone in Kirtipur since his brother had gone home for winter vacation.
“Ratnapark...Ratnapark…” he could hear the khalasi inviting passengers to the city bus in Kirtipur Bus Park. “Dhyang...dhyang…dhyang…dhyang……ghyar... ghyar” he was so used to these sounds as his room directly faced the bus park. Fog was the only thing he could see from his window. It looked like whole Kathmandu was hiding inside soft white snow.
Schools and colleges were all closed for winter. He was a free man for a month. He pulled Dostoyevsky’s ‘Crime and Punishment’ and started to read so reluctantly as if reading was the punishment for a crime he had committed in the past. He closed his eyes and set the book on the table. Meena Didi was pumping her kerosene stove in her room. There were four rooms in that floor of the house. He, his brother, and Meena Didi had one each. The forth one was always locked.
Meena Didi was in her late thirties or early forties and was very beautiful. He never asked her about her personal life. But from what he heard from others, she had a son and a daughter who were living with their maternal uncle in Chitawan. She had left her husband a few years ago.
While he was thinking about Meena Didi, one thought led to another. He tried to make speculations why she might have left her husband (or vice versa). May be he was a drunkard, or he cheated on her, or he did not satisfy her sexual needs. Or may be she cheated on him. He imagined Meena Didi’s naked body lying down beside that of her husband in their bed. He also imagined how beautiful she might look naked. Slowly, his blood circulation shifted from his whole body to one corner—yes that one. Suddenly, something in him grew larger and larger. He felt a kind of pain and pressure inside—the kind of pain one loves and wants in his body forever. He started touching and rubbing himself. In no time, he was groaning softly with his eyes closed.
He forgot everything—even that he had a terrible headache. He noticed his whole body grew lighter. Soon, he translated his youth into warm, semi liquid love.
Someone knocked on the door. He quickly pushed the wet paper—a place where he usually spilled his youth—under his bed and got up to open the door. Meena Didi was standing there like a sentry. “I heard you grunt. I thought you were sick”
“Yes, I have a terrible headache. I think I also have a fever”. Inside, he was sure she knew exactly why he was groaning. She appeared so innocent as if she wanted to believe every crap he told her.
“Okay, you go back to bed and have some rest. I will make some medicine for you. Just leave the door unlocked”. She did not bother to wait for his response as if that was the last thing she cared about. He pulled the door and went back to the bed. He tried several sleeping positions and facial expressions so that he could look as sick as possible when she returned with the medicine. He also tried several sounds so that she would believe that he was really sick.
His small room had a single bed, a study table (no chair because he used the bed as chair), and two dusty bookracks made of ‘betbans’. Table was full of books and papers. He arranged some of the books to make room for Didi’s medicine.
He remembered how he dedicated his ‘manual lovemaking’ to Meena Didi’s naked body a few minutes ago. He started fantasizing about her again. He was ready.
Meena Didi came back with a steel glass in her hand. Steam was coming out from the glass. She put the glass on the table and stood beside his bed. He tried to get up as slowly and carefully as an ill man would get up from his hospital bed. She was still standing there not knowing what to do next. He did not have a chair in his room. “Basnus na” He showed her the other half of the bed.
Without any hasitation, she sat down. “Khai khai, jworo kati chha?” she put her right hand on his forehead. Of course, he did not have any fever. He saw her face brighten up. “Khai, yesto garnus ta?” she wanted to feel his stomach for a detail and more accurate fever measurement. He did not know how to react. Letting her feel his stomach seemed to be the easiest option at that moment. She slid her right hand inside his cloths. Her hand was still warm from holding the hot glass.
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| Tuppi |
Posted
on 13-Jan-04 03:25 PM
Two of her fingers crossed the boundary of his underwear. Her fingertips touched a few trees of his pubic jungle. That was the most difficult yet most romantic moment of his life. He saw thousand red roses blooming in her beautiful face. She tried to say something. But he perfectly understood the words that never escaped her lips. She felt her stomach with her left hand. “Tyeti jworo ta chhaina, tara mero bhanda hajur ko jiu tato chha” she grabbed his right hand with her left hand and guided it to her stomach. Her right hand was still measuring his fever.
She had no fever. Even if she did, he was not good at measuring it with hand. He got her courteous invitation, which he silently appreciated. A warrior had already come down to the battlefield. Their eyes met. That day, he knew how good she was in making her point. Very slowly, he pushed his trembling hand into her petticoat. Soon, it crossed the boarder and started running in the plain. Jungle seemed to be somewhere close by. His fingers stumbled into a scar.
“I have a scar there. I got that a few years ago” she told him as if he was worried about how she got the scar. “Let me see it clearly” he. Without delay, she untied the lace of her petticoat. He clearly saw the scar. “Yeta bata ta ramrari dekhiyena” he borrowed devil’s courage to express his dirty desires. Measuring his fever and checking her scar were not even in the most remote corner of their minds. “Nai, malai laj lagchha. Tala bata hernu hudaina” she gave her invitation for further exploration in the form of womanly resistance.
“I will just look at the scar once. I promise” he did not believe his own promise. She closed her eyes and he slowly pushed her petticoat up. For the first time in his life, he touched the most spectacular treasure in this world. His blood started to boil inside his veins. His youth was looking for the shortest way out. His hands traveled the wonderland. She did her best to make the whole process easier. Like a curious visitor, he made mental notes of every possible site of the wonderland—for the future use.
Suddenly, someone pushed the door open. Yes, they had forgotten to lock the door chukkul. There was his friend standing on the door witnessing the first lovemaking of his life. On the table, ‘besar pani’ had already gone cold.
*************End**********
Enjoy it ! ( I already did back in Kirtipur...hehehe)
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| oys_chill |
Posted
on 13-Jan-04 05:30 PM
Hey tuppi bro,
hope to read more bhanya Sabbai tyai "GENRE" ko hola bhanne socheko thiyeena.....Everyday sugar khayo bhane ta tito huncha ni hoina? First best seller nai naselaikana second aauda ali khallo khallo hune rahecha ;)
Though the narration is good as always, the theme seems to have been inspired from sel roti with more imagination to feed on the readers' interest from the first story..hence much less real implications!.....therefore, didn't enjoy this as the first...with your narration and mellifluous writing, you should try few other stories perhaps with theme other than sex. I am sure they'll be well received :)
Just my two cents though!
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| bahudaliya panchayat |
Posted
on 17-Jan-04 11:55 PM
This is great too.
1.Medicine ko meaning surumai nabhannu parne k.
2.Haina eka bihanai k ko 2/2 kaam garna sakya ni?!
3.Ani tyo sathi bekarma arkako kothama ayera disturb garchha ? bajiya!
This is great aba paru bhauju saujulai, Meena Didi sidilai chi*ne kura matra haina aru nai ramaailo pani jaos hai ta.
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| tabasco |
Posted
on 18-Jan-04 08:04 AM
These two stories reminded me of " Arresting God in Kathmandu" by Samrat Upadhyay. If that crap can get whatever award it has got, Tuppi is not far behind.
:)
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