Mallika felt uncomfortable sitting in the room all by herself. By now she knew every inch of the four walls surrounding her…where the paint had peeled off, where there was a scribble, where a screw had been hammered in. It was not exactly boredom but rather a strange numbness that occupied her. For the last one hour she had fought against it but slowly and slowly it was overcoming her. Why was she here? What did she expect from this place? She knew not. Only this much she knew…whenever she thought of this place she felt paralyzed. Something was drawing her here…something over which she had lost control with each passing day. Whenever she thought of it she had a violent urge to give in. Till yesterday she had resisted. But today the urge knew no bounds. It had so completely and hopelessly taken over that she knew there was no way she could fight it. Right from the morning she had been in a trance.
She had prepared breakfast for her husband, Rohit and seen him off for office all the time knowing at the back of her mind that there was no way she could escape the urge today. Slowly but steadily she had been drawn into the quicksand.
"Are you through with your thesis?" Rohit had enquired. She hadn't even dared to turn around to look at him.
"Will take me a month or so more." How easily she lied. But what could she do anyway? Will Rohit ever understand?
"I thought you are almost through." Rohit was intrigued. "I am not too comfortable with the idea of you going there everyday. Had I known before that it will take this long I would have requested Uncle Mitra to talk to your professor and get the topic changed." He sounded disturbed.
"Oh God! Did Rohit suspect her?" Till yesterday she would have told him the truth and asked him to help her out. But today was different…there was no way, she had to protect the urge.
She turned around facing him.
"That's not being fair to me, Rohit. You know how important the thesis is for me. Uncle Mitra knows
Madame
too well and believe me neither she nor any of the girls had ever tried to be funny with me. And then Amrik is there too. I never told you how possessive he is about his
memsahib
. For the first couple of days he would never leave me alone…sitting with me all the time. But then the girls weren't comfortable talking in front of him. So I asked him to wait for me in the car. It required a lot of effort to convince him." At least, this part wasn't a lie.
After Rohit had left she had wept. How could she forget the love they shared and lie to him. Rohit always revered her. Even after five years of marriage he always went out of the way to make sure that she was happy, both mentally and physically. Even the physical bit…she had no grounds to complain. Rohit was a good lover and would leave no opportunity to make love to her.
Only day before yesterday, when they were getting ready for one of his office parties he had pulled her to him.
"I have to make love to you. I can't help it whenever you put on this dress."
She was wearing a red dress with a plunging neckline and a side slit reaching upto her
mid-thigh
"Oh Rohit, we just don't have time." As always he paid little heed to her excuse knowing that she was pretending hard-to-get.
The memories filled her with a strange sadness. She felt happy remembering those incidents. It was as if she existed in both worlds. The first world was her life with Rohit…sensitive, enjoyable and fulfilling. The second one was the world of obscene, naked desire…she had seen in the eyes of customers watching the parading girls. Whenever she remembered those faces she felt that violent urge to submit to the uninhibited display of raw carnal desire.
When she had first gone to the bordelo to work on her thesis "Economic depravity and social malady", she was a member of a world where lust was disguised behind suave looks and articulate behaviour. She had grown up in that world. The second one was more natural…men displaying their true feelings and intentions. Here education, upbringing, status and marriage …nothing mattered. It was only the animal in man that ruled. With each passing day, she sank deeper and deeper into the cobweb of her second world and the urge of submission grew stronger and stronger.
Today, after Rohit had left, she got out of her clothes and stood in front of the mirror inspecting herself. Who was willing to pay such an amount for an hour with her? Or was
Madame