Who Watches the Watchmen

The next couple of weeks, I was unable to speak with Menaka over Skype because our ship was on the high seas in a zone where the satellite coverage wasn't very good. I did use the ship to shore communications facility to send her a message about this. Then we hit a spot of bad weather in the Atlantic. The next time I got to skype with her was from Panama in the middle of the day. It was night in India.

The call started with Ayan excitedly filling me in with everything that had happened in school, and with his playground buddies and with his favorite TV shows. Menaka was just sitting there with a neutral expression throughout all this. Then my ears perked up as Ayan said in the middle of his ramble,

"...and Dara uncle took me for some ice cream after that..."

"Wait, Dara uncle?" I interrupted him and looked at Menaka. She signaled to me that she'll fill me in later.

"Yes! He also showed me how to tie a gurkha style knot on my shoelaces and..."

From Ayan's continuous commentary, I realized that he had spent a lot of time with our gurkha watchman. Ten minutes later, he got done with his report while yawning a lot and then Menaka told him to go to his room and sleep. He obediently left.

"So...Dara is the man of the house now?" I asked, partly in jest and partly jealous.

"Don't be silly. He was just helping out because I was off my feet for a few days. My ankle had a bad sprain." she said.

"What? Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's almost fine now. But for a few days I was in a lot of pain."

"How did this happen?"

"A couple of days after we last spoke, I was walking back with some groceries. It was about 11 o'clock. I was inside the building compound and walking towards the lift when I stepped on a manhole cover. It was loose for some reason and tilted under my weight. That caused my right ankle to twist real bad, and I fell, dropping all the groceries."

"Shit! Anything broken?"

"No, nothing broken. Just I cried out in pain, and Dara who was sitting by the gate came rushing to help me. He offered me his hand and I caught it to get up, but my ankle throbbed with agony and I fell down again. He looked very concerned. He ran and got his chair. Then he politely asked me if he could lift me up by putting his arm under both my arms. I guess he asked that because it would mean a lot of physical contact between us. I was in so much pain sitting on the ground that I didn't see a choice. There was no one else around either. I nodded. So he picked me up."

For some reason, just the idea of the wiry old gurkha putting his hands on my wife, even in an emergency situation like this, made me feel a little jealous and a little excited.

"How did he pick you up?"

"He moved to my right and bent down. Put his arm under my left armpit and told me to put my weight only on my good left leg. Then he got up, effortlessly pulling me up with him. And then he put me on the chair."

"Did his hand touch your boobs?"

"Prakash!!"

"Well, did it?"

"On the side. It was unavoidable. At least that time." and she blushed.

"There were more times?"

"Let me tell you things in the proper sequence!" she gruffly said. "He put me on the chair, then gathered all the groceries. A couple of packets had burst and the milk carton had punctured. He salvaged whatever was okay and held the bags in one hand. Then he said he'd help me to the lift and into the house. I tried to get up holding his hand thinking the sprain might have subsided by then. But it had gotten worse. So I pretty much had to lean on him as I hopped on one leg towards the lift."

"He looks so wiry. I am surprised he was able to support your weight and carry the groceries. And isn't he shorter than you?"

Menaka was about 5 ft 4. I remember Dara being at least a couple of inches shy of that.

"Yeah, even I was surprised. Apparently he spent a couple of decades in paramilitary forces."

"Hmmm...plus gurkhas are known to have strength disproportionate to their built."

"Anyway...in the lift, as he moved his hand to adjust our posture a little...that's the time I felt his fingers cop a feel and press my breast in what seemed like an intentional manner."

"Did you tick him off?"

"Not exactly. He was helping me. But I did take my hand, put it on his and firmly move it lower."

"What were you wearing?"

"A sari."

"So his hands were now touching your bare waist?"

"Yes. Better than grabbing my breast. Anyway, soon we got to our floor. He led me to the door as I hopped. I still had my purse in my left hand. I tried to reach inside for the keys, but that made me lose my balance, and I was about to toppled over again. That's when he...he wrapped his arms around me and held me up."

"Uh oh!" I said, smiling a little. What an ideal opportunity for the old man to feel up my pretty young wife.

"I felt so embarrassed in his bear hug. I told him to let me go and put my hands on the wall for support. He complied, and took the keys I offered him to open the door. He then led me to the couch and I plonked myself on it."

"Any more copping a feel?"

"Just whatever was unavoidable." she shrugged. "I thanked him and asked him to put the grocery bags in the kitchen. I then felt like I owed him something for helping me out so much. So I reached into the purse and gave him a hundred rupee note. But he refused to accept it, saying he was just doing his job. When I insisted, he took the note and said, "I will use this to go get you another carton of milk. You'll need it for your son.""

"Thoughtful." I said, also thinking that this gave him an opportunity to return and spend more time with Menaka.

"I told him it wasn't necessary and that I'd just call the kirana store and order delivery. But he insisted. And he left."

-----

"I just sat there, my ankle hurting, rubbing it a little. The pain was just growing. I wondered if I had a fracture or something. There wasn't much else i could do but sit and wait. Dara returned twenty minutes later. He had milk. But also some other stuff. There was a crutch he had borrowed from one of the other tenants. And he was carrying a plastic bag. I thanked him again. He put the milk in the kitchen, put the crutch next to me and then sat down on the floor at my feet.

I asked him, "What are you doing?" He said, "Memsaab, I have this balm from Nepal that I have used many times in such situations. A little massage with it and you will feel a lot better." I said, "Thanks, but I think I'll just go to a doctor." But he was already taking the balm can out. He then unbuckled and slipped off my sandal from the right foot. "Dara! Wait!" I protested, but he was in a very purposeful mood. "Just try this memsaab. I am very good with massages." he said and gently put his palm around my leg"

"Whoa!" I interrupted Menaka. "He was feeling up your feet and you were letting him?"

"It's not like I had much choice. i couldn't kick him away." she replied with consternation.

"True. So he gave you a massage?"

"Yes. He rubbed that ointment all over my foot and my ankle and gently massaged it with his rough hands." she blushed.

"Did you like it?"

"It was reasonably effective. The pain started subsiding."

"I mean did you like the sustained massaging touch of another man's hands on your feet?" there was a little jealousy in my voice.

Menaka caught it right away.

"Oh, so you are jealous at that while you go around bedding half the world's women?" she replied in a flash of anger.

"No, I didn't mean it that way." I got on the defensive. "It was a genuine question."

Menaka glared at me for a few seconds. Then her expression changed to one of introspection, and she said,

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Honestly...I was feeling a little...not exactly aroused, but...something different at the constant physical contact we had been in. And his massage was actually giving me goosebumps." she said.

"That's natural. The foot is an erogenous zone for some people."

"Anyway, I noticed that Dara's expression was also serious. He focused on massaging my ankle, but once in a while, he would tentatively caress my calf."

I got the feeling that Menaka's breathing got a little heavier.

"How long?"

"The massage lasted about ten minutes. We were both silent throughout it. There was palpable tension between us. The third or fourth time he caressed my calf, I said, Dara, my calf isn't hurting, just my ankle. He looked embarrassed and apologized. And immediately got up, saying he was done. Things got a little awkward so to break the tension, I thanked him again."

"Interesting."

"He left, saying I should call his cellphone if I needed anything more and gave me the number. The massage did make me feel better. The leg wasn't hurting as much. But I wasn't able to put any weight on it either. With the help of the crutch, I went to the medicine cabinet, popped a couple of painkillers and decided to take a nap."

"Hmmm..."

"I was woken up a couple of hours later by the doorbell. Using the crutch, I hobbled over and opened it. It was Dara with a plastic bag full of food. He said he guessed I wouldn't be able to cook, so he went and got me lunch from the nearby restaurant. I thanked him again and asked him to put it on the dining table. He took a plate sitting there and started spooning out the food. I felt obligated to him so I asked him to serve himself too."

"Lunch date!" I chuckled.

"Shut up!" Menaka blushed. "Anyway, I don't need to bore you with all the mundane details. Long story short, he helped me out a lot over the next couple of days until I was able to start walking again. Brought me food and other supplies. Picked up and dropped off Ayan to his school bus. Took him to the playground."

"And more massages?"

"Yes." she blushed. "Twice a day. It really helped a lot. I didn't even need to see a doctor."

"Good." I said.

Menaka was silent. From her expression, I could see that she had more to tell me, but was feeling shy. So I kept quiet too. After a couple of minutes of silence, I finally asked,

"There's something more, isn't there?"

She nodded, her face red.

"Go on." I prodded her.

"It's...embarrassing. And I think you'll get angry at me."

"I promise I won't." I said, but my mind was flooded with possibilities of all kinds of things that had happened between them.

"Okay...the last time he gave me a massage, I had taken some strong painkillers. I was sitting on the couch as usual and he was massaging me. The warmth of his touch felt very soothing, and before I knew it, I drifted off to sleep, probably because of the painkillers. I don't know how long it was after that, but I stirred awake with the feel of something brushing my face. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Dara's thin mustache."

"WHAT?????" I sat bolt upright.

"He had one knee on the couch next to me and was leaning over, gently kissing my cheeks. I half opened my eyes. When he realized I was awake, he froze. I looked into his eyes. Part of me was screaming to yell at him and push him away. But honestly Prakash, I was just so caught up in the moment. Relishing any kind of intimacy. I said nothing, just kept looking into his eyes. When I didn't stop him, he resumed kissing my face all over, brushing my lips a couple of times. I closed my eyes and shuddered as the touch of his lips and facial hair sent goosebumps all over my body."

I listened, aghast that our building watchman had made a move on my wife and she hadn't resisted.

"Then he moved his hand to my breasts, and when he touched them over the sari and the blouse, I felt a jolt of passion and guilt. But guilt was stronger. I pushed him away, and said, "DARA! What are you doing?" He took a couple of steps back and said nothing. Just stared at the floor. "I think you should go." I forcefully said, my face red with anger. He nodded, gathered his stuff, and walked out."

I sat in my chair halfway across the world, trying to come to terms with what I had just been told. Menaka looked wracked with guilt. I had promised not to get angry. And I had always maintained I was not a hypocrite. The only thing I could say was,

"So what happened next?"

"Nothing." Menaka shrugged. "He didn't come back after that. My leg got a lot better. Whenever I went in or out of the building, we avoided each other."

I was silent.

"Are you angry, Prakash? You look angry."

"I am not angry. I am just...I don't know. A watchman????" I finally identified what I was having an issue with.

"I am sorry. It's not like I planned it."

We were both quiet for a while as I gathered my thoughts. Finally my sensible side overpowered my irrational side, and I started speaking.

"Menaka, as I have said, given what I am up to, I have no right to get upset at you for what is child's play by comparison. I am just struggling to come to terms with it. You were right earlier when we spoke after that guy hit on you at the party. It is one thing to agree in theory and another to actually hear something like this play out. But that's my problem, not yours. What I have said all these years still applies. You have done nothing wrong, and my troubles dealing with it shouldn't make you feel guilty."

"Thank you, Prakash." she blew a kiss at the camera, looking relieved.

"Anyway, I have to get back to work. We'll talk about this later." I said.

"Okay, I love you."

"I love you too."

----

I had difficulty concentrating on my work that day. I just kept thinking about that old wiry watchman and my wife making out. And my mind constructed visual scenarios of what more could happen if things were allowed to progress. I found myself torn between resentment and arousal.

When I had theoretically given my blessing to Menaka to sleep with someone else, I had always assumed it would be someone like that guy Dinesh, from a socio-economic background as ours. To hear her exploring something like that with a lowly watchman went against my deep-rooted class-ist prejudice. At the same time, I recognized that it was a prejudice. And was also oddly titillated by the idea of someone from the working class putting the moves on my wife. The mental image of that watchman with my pristine high class wife was so depraved, it was actually sexy. But there was still some jealousy.

The next time I spoke to Menaka about it, I had sorted out my conflicted feelings a lot better. I am sure she was conflicted too.

"Menaka, I get that your body is in its sexual prime. And after years of having my permission to do so, you feel like acting on your urges when I am away for months."

She nodded. I continued.

"You have my blessings if you want to take this any further. I just want you to be careful."

"I don't know if I want to actually take it any further." Menaka said.

"Why?"

"I am worried how it will affect things between us. You mean the world to me. You are my life. If you were around all the time, I wouldn't even have these urges."

"Don't worry about me."

Menaka nodded.

"So have you run into him again since we last spoke?"

"Actually, yes. Yesterday we were in the lift together for a while when I came home after picking up Ayan. There was clear tension and awkwardness between us. Ayan kept babbling with him, and he spoke to Ayan too, but we didn't even make eye contact."

"If he makes a move on you again...would you like it?"

She shrugged.

"How far would you like it to go?"

"Not very far." she said thoughtfully. "I like the physical contact and the basic intimacy but I don't think I want to actually sleep with him."

"Then there are ways to engineer such a situation."

"How?"

I thought about it. Then I told Menaka my idea. She found it plausible and said she would put it into action in the next couple of days.

My ship left Panama and we headed out into the Pacific. For a while, the satellite connection was choppy again. We weren't able to skype. But Occasionally there would be enough of a connection to update our email inboxes. The next update came in the form of an email.

---

Dearest Prakash

I finally mustered up the courage to try out your idea today. After dropping Ayan off at the school bus, I stopped by the gate where Dara was sitting. He looked away as I approached. I went up to him and asked him if he had some free time to help me move some furniture. He looked at me with a confused expression, but then said yes, he would come over in a while after Banke returned.

I was so tense for the next half an hour. I didn't know whether he would come and if he did, what he would do. Finally the doorbell rang. I went and opened it. Dara walked in with a serious expression on his face.

"What furniture do you need moved?" he asked.

That's when I realized that I hadn't even thought the ruse through. I looked around and said,

"Ummm...let's see."

That's when he probably realized that it was a ruse. He took two steps forward, put his left arm around my waist, his right hand on the back of my head and pulled me into an embrace. I was a little taken aback by how fast he moved, so my body went stiff. He went still, wondering if he had misread my signals. But then I relaxed my body. He started kissing me on my cheeks, while rubbing my bare lower back. I felt bolts of pleasure surge through my body at his rough manly touch and the odor of his sweat. After a few seconds, I started kissing him back on his stubbled cheeks.

He pushed me towards the couch and sat me down on it, continuing to kiss me all over my face. Then he finally put his lips on top of mine and started kissing me. My lips, hungry for any sort of contact, shivered in delight as they rubbed against his thin Nepali lips. His right hand started wandering towards my breasts, but I wasn't ready for that yet. I put my hand on his hand and moved it to my shoulder. He respected my wishes and didn't try fondling any private parts.

After kissing for a few minutes, we both had gotten very breathless. I had kept my eyes tightly shut the whole time. I finally opened them and looked into his eyes. He broke the kiss and had a triumphant look on his face. He smiled and then started kissing me again. I moved my hand to his firm lean shoulder. His body, his demeanor, his technique, his smell, were so very different from you. I started getting aroused at the wrongness of the situation.

Finally an alarm bell went off inside my head saying I shouldn't move too fast. So I broke the kiss and leaned away. Dara looked at me with a smile on his face. Then he slid down to the floor. He took my sandals off gently one at a time. And then he raised my foot and started sucking on my big toe. I don't know why, Prakash, but it felt so good. For the next ten minutes, he lovingly licked all my toes, massaging my calves. I had to exercise a lot of self-control to not jump him then and there.

Then his phone rang. It was Banke who said he needed his help with something. Reluctantly, Dara got up, kissed me on the lips, and left without saying a word.

He came back an hour later and we spent fifteen more minutes on the couch making out like teenagers. Again, he tried to grope my breasts, and again I pushed his hand away.

"Okay, you should go or people will get suspicious." I finally said.

"As you say, memsaab."

I closed the door behind him and plonked myself on the couch, feeling satisfied with the physical contact.

I hope you are not upset.

I love you Menaka

xoxo

I read the email four times, feeling increasingly horny. I tried to picture the short little Nepali making out with my wife in my own living room on my own couch. It was a deliciously depraved thing that I had set in motion.

------

The next couple of days, we were in the dark zone again. When i finally reached an area with some connectivity, I was disappointed to see no new emails from Menaka. I logged on to Skype and pinged her but there was no response. It was the middle of the night in India and she was probably asleep. My mind kept constructing scenarios of different varieties about what had happened since.