Forbidden Desires (12 page)

Sara was everything Kavita wasn’t but wanted to be. And yet there was this nagging feeling in the pit of Kavita’s stomach that she would suppress this part of her again when she went back home and her daily chores took over, no matter how much she loved being with Sara. There were certain things one didn’t do. One was to declare you were bisexual! Not when you were married or had a child. No matter how much happiness it gave you.

Sara understood that aspect of Kavita. How she wished Kavita would realize that the longer you live for someone else, the more you kill your own soul. If you didn’t stand up for who you were, you would regret it all your life. So when Sara parted ways with Kavita at the airport all Sara could say was, ‘Don’t let your head rule over your heart. You’ll regret the decisions you make if you make them for someone else.’

But when Kavita got on the airplane, she had mixed feelings. Was this her escape from the drudgery of her life with Gaurav? Wouldn’t it be easier if she sorted out what she needed from Gaurav rather than escape into a world that was taboo? The conference had opened up her mind to such new possibilities that her head felt like it was going to explode. She took a pill and went to sleep for the rest of the journey.

When Kavita got back home she plunged herself into work and family duties. She took Vansh for soccer practice and even passed on her procedures to other surgeons so she could spend more time at home with Gaurav and her family. She cooked and hosted a party for their friends. She became the ‘perfect housewife’ as Gaurav wanted. It lasted a whole month. Until the depression set in.

Somehow she needed more. More than just the job or her family. She needed Sara. And the more she tried to push it out of her mind, the more Sara’s face kept taunting her. Kavita wanted out of her confusion. She rediscovered her yoga mat and began going again to her favourite garden.

She went to Nehru Park or Lodhi Gardens early in the morning to do her surya namaskars and watch the sun rise long after her pranayama was done. She found solace amongst the trees. She loved Delhi for this—the winter season. The beautiful gardens that allowed anyone to enter and find themselves. The wide roads that accommodated every vehicle from a bullock cart to a BMW. Delhi was truly the melting pot of India.

One day after her yoga at Lodhi Gardens she decided to roam the shops of Khan Market to spend more time with herself and clear her head.

‘One black coffee please and a slice of pound cake,’ Kavita said to the waiter. She was sitting at Café Turtle, her favourite haunt for coffee and pastries.

As she waited for her coffee she got an SMS from Sara. ‘She was visiting Delhi the coming weekend, could they catch up?’ Kavita didn’t know how to reply so she didn’t. She finished her coffee and roamed the bookstores. She also popped bv the Good Earth shop for some more items on the Buddha. Somewhere she felt that it was because of this that she had gotten so far. Learnings from Buddhism made her more calm and focused. She always picked up a painting or a statue of Buddha in many forms to decorate her house. No one in her family understood why she did so. While they would all sit and pray to idols during festivals, Kavita would read more about Buddhism and find solace in meditation.

After hours of sitting and reading at a bookstore and roaming the streets of Khan Market, Kavita sat down for a hearty lunch of pasta at Big Chill. As she ate, she pondered. Why was she scared of meeting Sara again? Did she think she would fall in love with Sara? Would it affect her relationship with Gaurav? But which relationship? Wasn’t their marriage a sham anyway? Even when they slept together, Kavita didn’t like it anymore. Didn’t her teachings tell her that there was no wrong or right in life. There was no good or bad. And when you started seeing yourself through other’s eyes, you would fall instantly. If you could remove judgement from life and stop becoming judgemental about the self, wouldn’t that be the greatest liberation of the soul?

Kavita thought there was a reason why she was different from her family, from her friends. While everyone believed in one way, she always sought out something more. She had tried to conform for so long. With marriage, with motherhood, her beliefs, her sexuality. But she wasn’t like them. For so long she had suppressed it. It was time she embraced it.

Kavita picked up her phone and replied to Sara. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting you.’

And suddenly she was sure. This was the only way she could live. By being truthful to herself. By cherishing a feeling that was within her instead of admonishing it. She felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders. The dawn of a new day.

Kaajal: 30. Lawyer. Short. Slim. Beautiful. Curly brown hair. Smiling eyes. In a complicated relationship. Loves to shop.

‘Are you on Tinder?’ Kaajal asked her friend, Tarini, while they were eating momos at Chanakya Yashwant Place.

‘Tinder?’ Tarini asked as she took a bit of spicy chutney onto her plate.

‘Tinder. It’s an app for meeting random people.’

‘For random sex?’

‘Yes.’ Kaajal took a sip of her Thums Up. How she loved these momos, the spicy chutney, and then washing it down with a Thums Up. Her sister thought it was vile and she never understood the delight in sitting in a restaurants while food was served on plastic plates by young waiters.

‘Why would I be on Tinder? I’m married.’

Kaajal smiled. ‘Many married men are on Tinder. Why can’t married women be on it too?’

‘Because that’s cheating.’

Kaajal stuck her tongue out at her friend. ‘As if married people don’t cheat. They’re the ones who are most bored and want random sex. Single people still want to get married.’

‘Where is this conversation going?’ Tarini asked as she polished off the last piece on her plate.

Kaajal shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m just saying. I saw a profile of your husband on Tinder and was wondering if you knew he was on it.’

‘What did you just say? You must be mistaken.’ Tarini shuffled in her purse for some money to pay for their momos.

‘No, no I’m paying,’ Kaajal said. ‘And don’t stress, babe. The best way to get over a man cheating on you is to cheat right back!’

Tarini didn’t say anything.

‘So what do you want to do about that?’

‘So what happens then? Does he meet you?’

‘Are you mad? I ain’t doing your husband. I’m doing someone else’s!’ Kaajal said as she burst into giggles. She had confessed to Tarini about her relationship long back. Kaajal and Tarini had met at a play at Kamani auditorium. They had been so ravenously hungry by the interval that even after the play started they were the only two people eating the greasy samosas outside. Then they decided to watch the rest of the play sitting in the aisle since their front row seats were taken. Since then they became friends who often went for performances at the Kamani auditorium to get their culture fix and to eat greasy food in different places across Delhi to fill their street food craving.

When Kaajal started sleeping with a married man, it wasn’t Kavita whom she confessed to. It was Tarini. Initially it was an emotional upheaval but soon things settled down to a comfortable level.

‘Actually,’ Tarini said, ‘I don’t need to be on Tinder to find a man. I already have one!’

Now Kaajal was interested. ‘So I don’t really care what Sanjay is up to. He can sleep with whomever he wants!’

‘So,’ Kaajal said as she took a bit of saunf from the bowl that came with her change. ‘Who is it? Tell! Tell!’

‘Varun.’

‘Who’s Varun?’

‘A friend of mine.’ Tarini was nonchalant.

Kaajal was a little more sceptical. ‘Where have I heard this name before?’

Tarini looked a bit sheepish as she said, ‘All I’m saying is that if Sanjay wants to go out and screw people, well screw him because I am getting as much as he can! Now do you want to go to Sarojini or not?’

Kaajal stood up to go. ‘Yes let’s do that. I want some new scarves for work.’

As they walked to the auto stand Kaajal shrieked. ‘Oh my God! I just realized where I’ve heard that name before. Isn’t that Ayesha’s husband? Varun?’

Tarini smiled coyly. Kaajal shoved her. ‘Good for you. Sleeping with your best friend’s hubby!’

‘Ex-best friend!’ Tarini said quickly. ‘We haven’t spoken for so long. We barely meet except for her Diwali parties, you know? Those lavish parties she throws so everyone sees how powerful she is. And besides, I think she’s having an affair too. I haven’t told Varun, obviously. But I think everyone in this world is entitled to have some fun.’

‘So you are going to have an open marriage?’ Kaajal asked.

‘No, an open marriage is when both parties know that the other is sleeping around. This is just a happy marriage!’

Kaajal and Tarini both laughed as they got off the auto at Sarojini Nagar. Like most of Delhi’s middle class, the two of them loved Sarojini Nagar for its great bargains. And it was never just about the clothes, when one went to Sarojini Nagar; it was about the experience of hunting around for great quality and low prices. It was a time that would be remembered later when women bought things from Jimmy Choo and Louis Vuitton at DLF Emporio. If a woman didn’t have the shakarkandi at Sarojini Nagar with extra masala and nimbu, the delicate waffles at Emporio would never taste as sweet.

Kaajal said, ‘I agree that marriages get boring. People should just live together. Then at least you can walk out whenever you want to. And then the reason to stay is because you believe in the love. Not the paper that binds you.’

‘Look, sometimes paper binds you and sometimes sex does. The fact is that you choose what life path you need. I love Sanjay. He’s a great guy. An amazing father. He’s loving and caring. He gives me the freedom to be what I want. He gives me money to spend as I like. Why should I leave him? Just because we’ve lost interest in sex with each other? Well that’s a stupid reason.’

Kaajal thought about it. ‘But don’t you want your person to be faithful and loyal?’

Tarini shook her head. ‘In bed? Why? What is faithful? The Shiv lingam is worshipped by millions of women. Why should one woman hold on to one man then?’

Kaajal shook her head. ‘I don’t know. You know I am in a relationship with a married man but I would still want him to be faithful to me. I know he’s not sleeping with his wife. And he’s planning to leave her. You can say that’s my warped notion of fidelity.’

Tarini picked out a bag from a stall as she said to Kaajal, ‘Marriage is more than sex. You know sooner or later, people get tired of the same type of sex. They know each other’s moves. Even if you’ve experimented with stuff, your bodies get tired. Sex is more mental then. I now need to psych myself into having sex with Sanjay. Only then can I be wet and ready. No matter what he does, if in my head I don’t want to, I can never have sex. And after some time in a marriage, one just doesn’t want to psych themselves up anymore. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. I mean he’s wonderful with my parents and family. Why should we separate or divorce for such a silly reason as sex?’

‘Hmmm,’ Kaajal pondered aloud. ‘I hate to admit it but are you making sense there?’

‘The only problem will be when Varun is transferred back to Lucknow. Then I’ll just have to get on Tinder, right?’ Tarini said with a laugh.

Kaajal wondered if she should speak to her married man about this. If he never planned to leave his wife, then what would she tell her family? Ultimately she wanted a companion in her life. It need not be a marriage certificate, but just someone to depend on. She had hoped her love, her passion and her dedication would have proved how much she needed him in her life and vice versa. She didn’t know whether it was the spicy momos or the conversation she just had, but Kaajal was feeling like she was going to throw up!

It had been a long day at work before Kaajal could speak to her boss. She had kept a vrat for him and she needed to tell him that.

‘Sir, may I come in?’ Kaajal said as she entered his cabin. They had been extremely professional about their relationship in the workplace. She called him Sir and he treated her as a junior as all bosses did. Otherwise the firm would kick both of them out.

‘Yes, Kaajal,’ The boss looked up from his desk and smiled at her. ‘Shut the door behind you.’

He thought she looked amazing. He had never seen her like this. Decked up in a salwar kameez with mehndi on her hands. ‘What the…’ He fumbled for the appropriate words.

‘It’s Karwa Chauth.’

‘Oh Dear God! Not you as well!’

‘I thought you would like a bit of devotion from me. You rarely get it,’ Kaajal said as she put her hands on her hips and raised one eyebrow.

The boss came around to her and put his arms around her before she moved away, looking towards the door which was unlocked. She locked it. Checked it again to make sure.

‘The only devotion I want from you is what you know best.’

Kaajal smiled. ‘So you want me to break my fast?’

The boss pulled her towards the bathroom. ‘Isn’t Karwa Chauth about making the man happy? How about I tell you ways in which you can do that without starving yourself?’

Kaajal protested a little while he dragged her towards the adjoining loo, ‘But this is for your long life.’

‘Well, let’s see what other long things can come out of this fast.’

He pulled her to the bathroom and Kaajal knew she could take control then. He started kissing her. Then, she just slapped him. Kaushik stared back defiantly. She unleashed a volley of abuses, including one for his mother. Kaushik smiled. ‘Now you’re asking for it.’ Kaajal slapped him again. This time, he slapped her back. Hard.

Kaajal cried out in pain. She dared him to do it again. He slapped her across her face. She wanted more. Harder slaps. The tension built. He pulled her hair and slapped her again. She pulled him and kissed his mouth. Bit his lips. Pulled his hair. She dragged him outside to his sofa.

She leaned close over his face, her tongue in his mouth…she kissed him…she moved her hands up, pinned against a wall, face-first, he held both of her arms above her head and dug his nails into her back, ripping her dress and leaving marks.

He took his belt off. She bent along the top of the sofa. Her hands were tied together with a leather belt and she watched herself in the mirror on the opposite wall as Kaushik moved behind her, spanked her hard, causing her to cry out again. She begged for more. She begged for Kaushik to call her his whore. She bent over some more. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. He hit her harder, called her a filthy slut. She is stretched, spread-eagled and face down on the sofa, her heart hammering inside her chest. Her back arches back…back…her head tilts back…she extends her arms…he enters her. Sweet taste of blood in her mouth. He pushes and rams himself inside her hard. She reaches a climax. She’s never felt so complete in her life.

He gave her some water as he pulled his trousers up and put on his belt. ‘Thank you. This was the best Karwa Chauth I’ve ever had.’

Kaajal smiled. No wife could do that for him.