The Awaening

"There is a meeting today in the evening, Reshma, in DeeCee Manor. I would like you to take the assignment and come with me. Dr. Roshan and his wife will be waiting for us in the restaurant."

I nodded my accent and sighed. Anthony was a man and the GM of the software concern I was working as a consultant. He would naturally assume that it will be alright for a junior employee to accompany him in the evening to a hotel, but Mrs.Bhargavi Sudarshan, my darling mother, will shoot me right in the heart if I ever inform her that I'm going to a meeting in a hotel with an unmarried man at 7 in the evening. Bracing myself, I picked up the phone and informed my mom that I will be going to Sangeetha's place after office to discuss about a site and come home around 9 pm. Yet another lie, I realized, but there was no other way.

Being a thin, average looking female, I never had any admirers or intimate boyfriends, more so because south Indian girls are brought up to be an innocent virgin till her parents select a suitable groom for her and any affairs before marriage usually will brand her as a slut. I myself had absolutely no intentions of casual sex or the idea of experiment-till-the-right-find because I planned to marry the perfect man and live my whole life with him and him only. Brought up as a traditional Hindu-turned-rebellious modernist, I can't quite shrug off my cultural ethics and codes. I was traditional enough to wait for my man (actually, I am saving myself for him, to quote the olden days) but I was the millennium woman who will only marry for love (much to the rage and sorrow of my parents).

India, in the 21st century, is the most confusing of its moods. It was advancing not only on its technological front, but in social and cultural too. Its children were finally waking up, practically in all aspects from their ambitions to sex. For a country who had coughed up a ruby called the Kamasutra thousands of years ago, people here rarely said the word more than a few times in their entire lives.

But the older generations are not one to give up so soon. There were just compromises. A teenager might be allowed to go abroad for his higher studies, but it is entirely his responsibility to support his parents till they die. If it is a girl, she is married off once she finishes her studies. In most cases, she would leave the country after getting engaged, possibly to an Indian settle abroad, or wherever she is going. Even 15 years ago, women were not allowed to go to jobs or stay out after 6 in the evening. And they were married once they turned 18 or at the most, 21. Or else, here market value would come down, and for a girl above 23 or 24 yrs of age will get offers only frm 30+ brooms who would demand the earth as a dowry.

Only in the recent years, where the IT boom changed the middle class income to an unbelievable rise, people started to realize that they couldn't forever lock us women inside. I mean, two salaries are better than once, right? Men here were jerks enough to restrict their wives, but daughters...were another matter. Provided that she leaves in a decent attire to a reputed job and comes back early, the masters of the family magnanimously agreed to let them out of their immediate sight.

My parents had made the great mistake of encouraging me too much to go to libraries and bookshops. As a result of this, I was now a romantic dreamer who was waiting for a dashing man to come and lay down his life for her. I hate the whole idea of arranged marriages and long for a man who would love me for what I am and marry me for love. But time was running out, since a girl is, in these times, married off when she reaches 23 or 25, and I will 23 next week.

And I was still looking for the right person to come along. Contrary to popular fairy tales, the guys out here turned out to be either jerks ("I want you, but not as my wife/lover/gf, a tumble in the hay is fine by me") or wimps ("im not sure we will get along well... my parents would like somebody of my own caste") or plain bores. I let out another sigh and this time it did not escape Anthony's attention.

"Is there any problem?"

"Uh, no, sir, I was just...

"It's ok. Did you finish the report?"

I nodded and switched on the printer to take a fresh copy. I did not know why, but conversing with Anthony always turned me into a blubbering fool. I usually envision my Prince Charming as a slight-bodied, innocent faced man. Someone like Michael Biehn (actually, I was 10 when I saw the TERMINATOR, And I was all set to marry him once I turned 18, then I read that he had three sons, for god's sake, and cried for a whole week)... some one soft and caring who would not crush my body with a swat of his arm and would die to save me. So it was most surprising, for myself that is, that I should feel attracted to some one exact opposite my dream lover.

Anthony was not gorgeous or even striking, but he was intelligent with a capital I. And so reserved. Deep inside, I knew I was deliberately trying to act helpless and confused around him to get his attention. That usually helps. If you play strong and throw your weight around these kinds of people, they will clam up before you say shoot. Be a nervous, unsure loser in front of them, and they will finally come to the conclusion that you need their help and open the lock in their mouth. Quiet and brainy guys attract me so much; I used to wonder whether I have a kink out of teasing them out of their inhibition. Maybe it gave me a sense of power to change a man's natural character all by myself.

I dislike tall men because they, at least in my part of the world, generally are cocky and arrogant, with no respect for those who are shorter than them. Though I was taller than the average Indian woman, about 5'6", I felt shaky every time Anthony stood next to me. He was around 6'4" and built like a tree trunk. But there was no harshness or bulky strength visible. It was a fine medley of supple muscles and mellow softness. And I positively hated mustaches. He had such a thick upper that only his bottom lip was visible. It was like he had a black caterpillar below his nose, perfectly complemented by bushy, menacing brows. How come such an unlikely character can attract me so much?

The end of the sheet I had fixed inside the printer had a slight tear and naturally, it tore as the printer head reached it. I was jolted out of my musings and looked in to Anthony's unsmiling face. He was looking slightly irritated and said, "is it all ready? We have to leave in 10 minutes. Ask Ramlal to take the car out. I have to make a call. If you can wait near the café, I will pick you up".

I forgot about the printout and gazed at him stupidly. We? I can't go with him, alone in his car! In India if you go in your boss' car after 6pm, it means only one thing and that thing it was not. Lord help me if Sangeetha, Vikas or any of the other employees see that...they will rag me till I bleed through my eyes. "Sir, I have my Honda. I can come in it."

"But, what is the point? I will drop you home. It will probably be late once the meeting gets over and I don't want you to drive alone in ____Colony". True, no good woman will walk alone after 9 in the place where I live. It was the breeding place of rowdy hoodlums and the local mafia. My mother had begged my father not to buy a plot in this area to live but as usual he did not allow a mere female to interfere with his decisions.

Vexed, I chewed my upper lip and forgot to remove the torn sheet from the printer and it started to make a funny humming noise. Anthony leaned over and took the sheet, brushing the side of my left breast in the process. I almost jumped 2 feet back. Anthony himself was flustered and faced me. He mumbled a sorry, but to my greatest astonishment, did not leave the place. He was actually looking at my stunned form in an intense, harsh manner.

I was stupefied. I had been in this situation before but usually, the guy falls over his face in making a rocket-speed apology and disappear, or if he is a jerk who did it deliberately, I freeze him off with a Siberian look or at the very worst, have a showdown with him. But this one here was attacking me with a smoldering look and I was simply gawking at him!

We stayed like that for a few breathless seconds and I was the first one to turn and pick up my folder. I risked a peek at Anthony and flushed to the roots of my hair on seeing him still staring at my back. What's got into him? I wondered. Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

I mechanically took another copy of the report and waited for him in the ground floor. My throat felt as if it was sunbathing in the Kalahari. I smiled at the waitress in the café and picked up a Diet Coke. I was still in the dark about what went up there. For a minute, Anthony looked as if he would like to push me on the floor and trample me flat. I was beginning to sweat a little. Maybe he knew somehow about my attraction for him? Drat that dumbo Sangeetha, she must have sung it to Vikas (her husband) and maybe he had told Anthony...

I remembered Sangeetha saying that Anthony was a loner and had very few friends. May be he thinks that im just a horny broad interested in making out with a rich guy... he sure knows that im a from a middle class family... and he must have had ideas about utilizing what is offered readily...oh, I was going seriously crazy. Some where in the corner of my mind I realized that I was over-reacting, but I could not stop my vivid imagination.

"Can we leave now?"

I whipped my head up to see Anthony's tensed face and stood up with out answering. We walked in silence to the parking lot. I climbed in and he eased the vehicle out of the street. We drove in silence for next twenty minutes. I just looked up the files for the discussion and he concentrated on driving. Slowly the traffic thinned and the refreshing smell of salty air touched my face. DeeCee manor was a seaside resort, quite far away from the office. The beach loomed before us and the calm, blue evening soothed my nerves a bit.

Suddenly the car turned into a smaller lane in the left and stopped. I looked up. We had stopped in a deserted stretch of road, with the blue shore bang opposite to me. Anthony was staring straight ahead, his arms tightly grasping the steering wheel. "I did not do it on purpose"

I felt a little angered. He did not have to take the topic again! It could have remained unsaid, and both of us would have let it fade from our memories. I replied a bit tightly; "No problem. I did not think so"

He finally turned at me. For the first time since I joined his firm 2 months ago, he was directly looking at my eyes and talking. His hands clenched and he ground out in a low voice, "you don't have to pretend. I know you hated me touching. I am apologizing because of that"

God, this is embarrassing, I thought. "I think there is no...

"Yes, there is", he burst out suddenly. "I know I repel you. Every time I come near you run a mile. You cringe, Reshma. You think I can't notice that?"

"NO!!" I was conscious of a vague feeling that this was a dream, I must have fell asleep after I had that Coke...me and him could not possibly be having a conversation like this. "What are you talking about, Anthony?" Unknowingly, I used his Christian name for the first time. In India, employers had all the right to call their juniors anything, but the employees usually called them sir or ma'am. "Nothing like that..."

He again faced away from me and gazed out of the window. I saw the bitter shaking of his head. Then he suddenly asked, "if you really mean that, will you touch me now?'

I felt like I just got a smack on my solar plexus by Tyson. I stared at him, with my mouth hanging open more than a little wide. Now I became surer that I was dreaming. Anthony, member of the rich and the elite, was asking me to touch him? Did he dare think that I would oblige him? Was I a slut to touch a man, a stranger, who was not even my lover?

All of a sudden I felt very tired. Who I was I trying to fool here? Whatever I say, what ever I do, there is only one thing which is gonna happen. Either I will remain a spinster or forced to marry a stranger (yes, approved by my parents and possibly a rich fellow), but stranger he will be. This society will never allow me to remain unmarried because for one thing, it is unheard of and another, the other moms will get frightened that I will become a sort of example or an idol for their girls and they will try their level best to pack me off. All my dreams and visions of a loving man is pure bullshit. Four years from now, I will surely be hassling a busy husband who has no time for me, indifferent in-laws who would harp about me to their neighbors and a bawling baby which will surely make me give up my job. I didn't want to wait anymore; I didn't want to remain chaste and pure for that mythical figure which does not exist anywhere in the near future.

Suddenly something in me broke free. All the dreams I had in my teens, and all the vanishing hopes I am having now, flashed like a fast forward scene before my mind's eye. My throat ached at the thought of a hurting man reaching towards me. Normally, I would have thought that he was just putting on an act to get in to my knickers, but the expression in his face was not lustful or even desirable. It was plain hunger and need, for which I had an answer, because I had also experienced those, but only I curbed it constantly in my search for the perfect man, so much so that, I no longer felt like a healthy female.

He did not love me or even wanted me, but his hungry senses wanted something immediately. So did mine. There was something hurting inside him, I did not even know what it was, but I was seized by the normal human desire to ease away a person's sorrow. I was so damned tired and frustrated and disappointed of waiting forever. I wanted a hard and fast loving, of my mind, my body, of my whole sorry self. Every atom of my body was in a supreme agitation. For the first time in my life, I threw all my beliefs in the wind and silently, without taking of my eyes on him, I placed a shaking hand on his fingers.

He looked at me disbelievingly. Probably he had thought that I would scream RAPE, HELPPP MEEE or at least slap him hard. Then he went very quiet, his eyes focused on my fingers. I nearly came undone at the intensity of feelings of his face, on looking at the path my hand was traveling. I was now restless. I felt unstoppable. I picked up his index finger and slowly circled it with mine. I stroked all his fingers and squeezed his palm. Then I climbed a bit higher to his wrist and measured his pulse. It was racing. I slowly took my fingers up his arm. Through his shirt I felt the muscles going up and down on contacting my fingers. Through dazed eyes, I saw my own hand travel up his neck, chin and finally his lips. I suddenly realized that I always wanted to find out where exactly his upper lip was. I moved closer to Anthony and leaned over his face. His eyes were looking at my face with such an intense fervor that I felt breathless. My whole body went hot and cold alternatively. Without planning, I raised my head to his lower head and whispered, " I always wanted to touch your upper lip" and lifter his moustache hair up and stroked his upper lip.

Without a word, Anthony Picked me like a leaf and placed me on his lap, facing him. I breathed in sharply. This was the first time a guy touched me and it was exactly like I had read in Anne Mather books. Hot. Exciting. Tingly. My head almost hit the upholstery but the Qualis was a mammoth of a car. I was sitting on him fully, my legs hanging on each side, and my bottom sitting flat on his crotch. And then I realized it. There was a HUGE bulge over which I was sitting. I went pale and then hot. All my nightmares about THE THING and the whispered girls talk about how it would tear you apart returned. Not to mention the one dirty porno flick I saw with Sangeetha before her wedding night and puked on her toilet. I could not meet him in the eye and all my newfound confidence deserted me. I stared at him stupidly, wondering whether I am still dreaming, hoping it was all a dream.

Anthony must have realized my inner turmoil, because he shifted his position a bit, so that the area under me became more or less a flat one. He then bent forward and buried his face into my neck. I felt dizzy. His moustache was tickling me, but not resulting in the usual squirming. I rather felt like returning his nuzzles and boldly caught his hair. I felt his teeth sinking into the tender skin on my nape but strangely it did not hurt. I almost welcomed the sensation in an otherwise impossible situation.

Desperate to change my numbed status, I slid my hand into his straight locks. Anthony had such straight silky hair till his nape and I felt a wild urge to yank it hard. I felt his belt buckle digging into my belly, and lowered my arms to push it away. Anthony used this moment to put his arms around me and bite my shoulder more hardly. I could feel the hardness of his arms through the silk shirt I was wearing. Thank god, I didn't wear my sari today, I thought in a daze. My trousers were creased now by all the climbing on hi and I dimly thought what I would explain to my mom about it.

As he crushed my body into a massive hug, I once again felt his erection and I felt his body shudder at our contact with one another. My whole body hurt by his rock-hard embrace, but not in an unpleasant way. Not at all. "aaa...aahh" I moaned, not without some pain, but I did not complain too much and found myself murmuring " hold me tighter, more, still more...yesss, like that...mmmmm". By this time, I felt like my bones were crumbling into chips and finally unable to bear the pain, I freed my hand out of his iron lock and put my arms around him, hugging him like how he did.

I finally understood why woman tolerated so much from men. So this was why spinsters and unmarried woman are so bitter and empty. This was why even a successful, intelligent female falls for a deep shit and lives with him for the rest of her life. Like Sangeetha. Like my mother. Because of this mind and body which swoons in ecstasy at the solid loving touch of a male, and because of the fact that once you taste this forbidden pleasure, you are forever enslaved. Not only for physical pleasure, but also for the fulfillment and warmth another soul imparts from his core to yours.

I knew at that moment that I would be Anthony's girl forever. Even if I never see him again, he will always be in my mind, in a deep corner, forever reminding of my first taste of life. Whomever I marry or sleep with, I will recollect his ravaged face and this absolute pleasure on being part of another life's essence. I suddenly felt like crying because I finally understood that I had crossed the point of no return. There was no way to go back being the waiting angel now. Yes I will be waiting still, but this will be a different kind of wait, one that has the power to make or break me...

To be continued...