I wove a lengthy tale of staying overnight at a friend's place to placate my ever-inquiring mother-in-law. The story involved my friend, Shalini, who'd graciously agreed to play her part if ever called upon. Perhaps it was my keen intuition, or maybe it was an act of sheer self-preservation, but we'd decided to exit the house a bit early. We thought it would divert suspicion more convincingly if our departure didn't coincide with the onset of twilight, a time that's often associated with mischievous plans.
Bidding our goodbyes at the door, we set off for lunch. As I laid out our plan for the day, I suggested that we leave the car in the underground parking lot at Palika Bazaar. I was to meet with Dara Singh's assistant later in the day, and that seemed like the perfect ruse to escape the overbearing scrutiny of my mother-in-law.
Unfortunately, Shalini's boyfriend derailed our plans by summoning her prematurely, leaving me alone to navigate the crowded bazaars. It wasn't long before I found myself retreating from the bustling city market back to the comfort of my car, with the intention of losing myself in the harmonious sanctuary of my playlist.
What I didn't anticipate was the familiar face that greeted me as I descended into the basement. The shopkeeper, a man I'd bumped into before, was there clinging to his cigarette as if it were his lifeline. A sly grin spread across his face as he recognized me.
"Hey, madam," he drawled. "Enjoying Dara? Any problem?"
The audacity of his question made my cheeks flush. Grateful for his solitude in the basement, I managed to stammer out a response.
"It was good, no problems."
My timely cross past him was intended as a bridge to exit the conversation, but he seemed far too interested in following me to catch my drifting words. Like an unwanted shadow, he persisted, throwing questions my way.
"Are you here for another CD? I thought Dara's company would surpass any digital amusement," he continued, raising an eyebrow.
Desperate to shake him off, I spun another tale. "No, no, it's nothing like that. I simply had some errands around here."
"Hey madam, why are you so angry? Tell me, how was it? Did you enjoy it, or not?" he questioned abrasively.
His audacity shocked me, but I chose not to dignify his question with a response. Instead, I pressed on, trying to use the teeming marketplace as a shield from his unrelenting prying.
"Acha madam, tell me when are you going to Dara's?" he questioned again, more fervently. I kept my lips sealed, continuing on my path, hoping that silence would hint at my disinterest in whatever he was peddling.
To my relief, he pulled his cell phone out and stopped tailing me. I breathed a sigh of relief and made my way to my car, and promptly locked myself within the metal fort. Just as I was about to sigh in peace, an ominous knock startled me.
I glanced and saw the shopkeeper grinning at me through the window. I hesitantly rolled the window down.
"Why are you bothering me?" I asked, a mix of concern and irritation looming over my words.
His grin remained irksome. "Hey madam, what exactly is bothering you? I just want to have a conversation."
He pressed further, "madam, you did not mention if you are visiting Dara today?"
Caught off guard, I blushed and didn't know what to say, leaving my mouth agape in surprise. The planted smirk returned to his face.
"What's there to be ashamed of, madam? I just spoke to Dara and he said you would be visiting him today. I mentioned that day too, it's a human necessity, why the embarrassment?"
His blatant audacity, the smirk glued to his face, every detail started to frustrate me. I just had to ask him. "What do you want?"
He nonchalantly retorted, "Madam, am I not a human? I have my needs, too. I just want fuck your pussy." He paused, looking at me in a way that made my skin crawl. He had taken a step too far.
"Please leave me alone," I demanded, stammering over every word.
He dismissed my plea, implying that since he introduced me to Dara, he deserved the same favour, as well.
"Enough", I warned, "if you don't leave now, I will call the police."
"Okay. Here is my mobile phone. Call, madam. Get a report written, madam. Then your family members will also come to the police station and I will tell them everything."
"No, don't call the police, just go away!" However, that didn't seem to dissuade him, as he kept on leaning on my open window, with a smirk etched on his repugnant face.
"See, madam..." he began, his voice calm yet firm, "I am talking to you very respectfully, but you seem resistant. You leave me no choice but to escalate this conversation." His eyes hardened as he continued, "I won't hesitate to find your address. I'll find your family and reveal everything to them. It's your decision now."
Startled by his direct threat, I felt cornered, my privacy at risk. After thinking over the situation and understanding the weight of his words, I had to concede. I couldn't risk my family finding out about this unusual encounter.
"Fine," I sighed, resigned. "Do what you need to do."
