The Black Mole On Inner Thigh

I am Saima, and was just 24 years when I had eloped with my classmate Mohan about a year back. I come from a conservative Muslim family of a suburban town and burqa was a must for all the female members. In fact, even while at NIIT, I never gave up hijab.

Mohan was a Hindu student of my age in the same NIIT and his family lived in the same town as mine but, obviously in a different area where the majority population was Hindu.

Both me and Mohan had cracked the entrance in the same year and the small town celebrated it by felicitating us in various programmes. Both of us took admission in the same NIIT that was about 540 km from our native town.

At that time, Mohan was a young boy, taller than others in the class. Though we had talked several times, he had never seen my face due to hijab or burqa. As we joined the same NIIT and opted for the same branch we often had study related conversations. Once during the third semester, one of his relatives visited the city where we were studying in NIIT. Both his and my family sent some homemade pickles and other eatables through his relative for us. Since I was staying in the girls hostel, his relative handed over my packets to Mohan.

On the following day, Mohan met me with my packets. I was suffering from severe throat infection for past couple of days and when I spoke to him, my voice was a bit hoarse due to the infection. I told him about it. Mohan had a very good sense of humour and said, "I trust I am handing over the items to the right person because I know you only by your voice and glances and today your voice is different. Even if you remove your headscarf, I will not know because I never saw your face."

We both laughed loudly. Then I said, "You are right, but I assure you are delivering to the right person."

We were talking in one corner, outside the girls' hostel and suddenly something prompted me to remove my headscarf and say, "At least you should see the face you are delivering to in case there is complaint that you ate my share instead of giving it to me."

We laughed again. But Mohan looked at my face with an astonishment and appreciation in his eyes. I knew that I was beautiful and regular use of hijab made my bright skin glowing. I could notice him overwhelmed and enchanted at my beauty. I felt slightly odd and pulling down the headscarf said, "So now on remember my face and you will not be in confusion to deliver my items in future."

We both laughed but I could still see the bewildering looks he had and sarcastically said, "Why are you so bewildered, Mohan?"

He lowered his glances and said, "Don't mind, Saima. I never expected you to remove the headscarf in front of a person who doesn't belong to your religion. But there's another reason, I have never seen such an innocent face as yours."

I was embarrassed inside. I knew Mohan was too gentle and instead of referring to my beauty, he consciously choose the word "innocent " so that his word would not send any wrong signal.

"Thank God, you didn't find it guilty," I replied smiling and for some odd reason Mohan emphatically said, "Never."

He left handing over the packets. But since that day we became more friendly and would talk while walking back from the campus or in the canteen during the breaks. But I always used hijab. Slowly, we came to discuss between us about Islamic and Hindu faiths, the superstitions and prejudices. During the fifth semester, we were one day talking about how every religion was basically misogynist and treated women as second class citizens. From Mohan I learnt details about the burning of Hindu widows in the pyres of the deceased husbands in 19th century Bengal and how the reformers faced resistance.

In the course of conversation I regretted that Muslim women were yet to see the real liberation as there had been no reformation movement. Suddenly, Mohan said to me, "Saima, you are a brilliant student and will be self-sufficient in future. Make sure that you stay in life as an empowered woman and do not succumb to social pressure as happens to most Indian women after marriage."

I smiled back at him, "I appreciate your respect for the women, your wish to see them empowered. But you know I come from a particular religious background where it's difficult for a woman to empower herself...."

I stopped abruptly and Mohan was looking questioningly at me. I was blushing under hijab, my voice was getting throttled in shame and hesitation. But then I grew bolder and said in a stammering manner, "I know it could hurt you..."

"Why are you stammering, Saima?" Mohan said, "Tell me what you wish to tell. We are good friends. Please don't hesitate."

I mastered courage, "If you are beside me in my life, I could perhaps empower myself..."

I didn't know what an irony it would be in future when a wife would be compelled by the circumstances to betray her loving husband.

Listening to me, Mohan looked at me with awe and admiration and I could see his eyes filled with emotions reciprocating my feelings. He spoke softly, "Hope you have considered all aspects and what you just said is not any infatuation. I know you're a serious type of girl and I trust you. To be frank, I never could have mastered courage to tell you the same, not because our religions are different but because to me you are too heavenly to propose. But thank you, Saima, you made it easy for me."

I could see his face overwhelmed by my proposal. He spoke again in a tender voice, "I really don't know if there is anything called love at first sight. But the day you removed your headscarf to show me your face, I fell in love. But I could have never told you about it as I believed I never really deserved such divine beauty. Moreover, I didn't want to embarrass you by confessing my love without being sure of your feelings."

"Hope you are sure of my feelings now?" I asked.

Mohan looked at me, his glance acknowledging humble gratefulness and said in a confident voice, "Let's make a few things clear and see whether both of us agree to these."

I waited for him to continue and his first sentence gave me the assurance that I was not wrong in my choice as he said, "Though we love each other, we shall not indulge in physical proximity till we get officially married.

Secondly, there is no need for any of us to convert to any other religion and shall practice one's own in the same house. Similarly, we won't impose on the other any food about which the other might have reservations. But if one wishes to take something there shall be no restriction from the other. Your dress, particularly the hijab or burqa is your personal choice and I won't ever impose anything on you.

But the most important is our interfaith marriage could create turbulence in our small town. It could even lead to riots. So on completion of our courses, we shall try for jobs in the farthest area from our local place and settle there happily. Even if our parents don't give their consent to our marriage, we shall respect them and provide financial assistance to them as our duty as their wards."

Mohan spoke so rationally that I couldn't but admit, "I started falling in love with you. Now listening to your words, I admire you, Mohan. Please be always beside me and guide me in life."

"I too love and admire you, Saima," said Mohan and then with some hesitation said, "May I request you to remove your headscarf to have a glimpse of that innocent face."

Though I was blushing, I obliged. He looked deeply at me with the same awe and admiration and said, "I don't know how Greek goddess Venus looked, but your beautiful face reminds me of Venus."

His open appreciation of my beauty ashamed me and hurriedly put on my headscarf. During the remaining years we spent in the campus that was the only demand that Mohan made sometimes to me to remove the headscarf so that he could see my face. Before passing out of NIIT, we were both selected in the campus interview. While I was posted by the same company in Shimla, Mohan was posted in Mumbai.

After a year, on completion of the probationary period, I too opted for transfer to Mumbai. Mohan had, in the meantime, bought a 2BHK flat in the outskirt of Kalyan on EMI and had registered it in our joint names. He was of the view that due to our interfaith partnership we were likely to face difficulties to find a rented accommodation either in Muslim or Hindu dominated areas.

Within a week of my posting in Mumbai we registered our marriage in the presence of a few colleagues. After a celebration dinner, when we returned to our flat, it was around midnight. I was shy and throbbing inside as that would be my first night when I and Mohan were supposed to share the same bed. There was no apparent nervousness in Mohan though he seemed extremely happy.

Meanwhile we let our parents know about our decision to get married and neither family approved it. But we told them not to circulate the news as it could disturb the harmony of our small native town. To our relief both the families appreciated our concern and despite disapproval of our marriage, agreed not to publicize the news. Parents of both the sides refused to accept any financial assistance from us because of the blasphemous relation in which we entered. However, when we told them that we wanted to help my younger brother and Mohan's younger sister in their studies, they didn't object. But the families imposed strict restrictions on our siblings about their movements.

Mohan's younger sister, Rimli was a student of Class XII and wanted to pursue MBBS. She told me over phone, "Bhavi, I wish to be with you and my brother. But parents won't allow me to visit you."

My younger brother was in class IX and had not formed any specific idea about the interfaith marriage. However, he rang me once everyday without the knowledge of our parents to give a live update of household developments.

The first night after registration of our marriage put me in a fix. How should a bride react to her chosen man? I was afraid if Mohan would be rough. I didn't want to show my desires lest he considered myself to be cheap. But Mohan once again proved to be a very considerate partner. As we retired to our bedroom that night, he said to me, "It was a hectic day, if you're tired please take rest. We are not running away anywhere and will live with each other the whole life."

It dispelled all my fears. I gave a shy smile and replied, "It was a hectic day for you too. We are on leave for a week. If you aren't tired, I am also not tired. If you don't wish to take rest, I will go your way. It's always mutual between us..."

For the first time in our love life, Mohan touched my face, "You are so beautiful, so tender and soft, Saima, I am afraid in the process of love lest I spoil that heavenly beauty."

He kissed my forehead, then on my cheeks and his lips touched mine like a feather, too conscious, not to hurt me or put me in discomfort. I hugged him, placing my head on his chest and assured, "You can never hurt me, Mohan. You are in every inch a gentleman."

And we retired to bed. It was the most wonderful and exciting experience to explore each other on the first night. Mohan was very caring and would stop if I ever screamed even out of joy or shame or if I let out any sound of discomfort. Feeling that I could find it odd to take off my clothes, he asked me to take away his first. I was full of admiration to see the size of his throbbing meat. The view of his throbbing hard cock made me wet between the thighs. I started getting aroused when Mohan began to take away my dresses and when he unhooked the bra, I brought his face and put a nipple in his mouth to suck. It was already stiff. Mohan was extremely virile but without being passionate. He explored every inch of my body with the curiosity of a child with a new toy. His loving caress of all my private parts ignited the fire in me and I whispered, "Mohan, I wish to surrender to you. Make me yours in every way you wish..."

It was the most memorable experience of becoming one, both mentally and physically, with the man you love, particularly with an extremely sensible partner like Mohan. I still remember the night when we explored each other, kissed and cuddled. Mohan's boner was hard. I teased by taking it in my palm and Mohan said, "It is all yours from tonight, dear. It will never do anything against your will."

I was overwhelmed by his sense of courtesy and added, "It's my precious thing and I will try to take care of it and its owner in every way I can."

Mohan corrected me, "You're the owner my dear."

Then came a time when I eagerly waited his tool to invade my most private area. I tried to adjust my position to make it easier for him to penetrate. Though sufficiently wet at the arousal, Mohan had difficulty in pushing his meat as he avoided exerting slightest force and pressure lest I got hurt. It was me who assured him to apply a bit force assuring that I could handle it. But when he really made the entry, I screamed in pain and felt as if my tender spot had been torn apart. I could feel warm blood flowing out as I lost my virginity to my loving husband.

Mohan stopped immediately finding tears in my eyes and said very assuringly, "We can stop if it's hurting you. There's no hurry, we can try it later."

But shamelessly, I grew demanding and said, "No, I want my loving hubby to do everything that a hubby does to his wife. Don't bother about my screaming and tears, it happens to every bride, it was spontaneous... the first pain of becoming a woman from a girl."

My assurance made Mohan continue plumbing my tunnel in a most gentle but sensuous way. I shut my eyes in both shame and delight as I felt the meat of my man sending ripples of unknown sensation to my brain. We hugged each other's naked body in deep passion, locked in kiss as his tool explored deeper and deeper and the muscles of my vagina started repeated spasms on his tool. He flooded me once within first fifteen or twenty minutes. We laid down in each other's arm. After about an hour, we both looked at each other. Our glances full of passion for another round.

This time the penetration was easier and we played nearly forty-five minutes and when he flooded me I was feeling the intense orgasm and gripped the bed sheet tightly. When it was over, I knew what a sexual relation really meant. I kissed Mohan's lips and thanked him for the most wonderful experience of my life. We decided to cudlle our naked bodies and try to sleep.

Though tired, we didn't actually fall asleep and talked about our families, the way we offended them by our interfaith marriage. We talked about our future plans. All the while, Mohan's hands were gently moving over my breasts, my buttocks and bare thighs. At one point, Mohan noticed my nipples which had grown stiff by then again. He brought his face down, licking my stiff nipples gently and asked, "Can I suck those beautiful cherries?"

I myself guided my nipples to his mouth and what an exciting experience it was. My hand went down between his legs to find him hard again. We didn't talk, our glances were enough to signal each other what we wanted. That was a lengthy session and it seemed to me as if Mohan was inside me infinitely. His rhythms varied, sometimes faster, then slow, then faster again. After having two climaxes, I pleaded to him to come as it was getting unbearable for me. Mohan obliged and we ended up biting, kissing and scratching each other in deep passion.

By the time we were tired and finally went to sleep, roosters were announcing day break outside. We slept in each other's arm without any clothes on our bodies and when by midday we woke up, Mohan started cuddling with me. I moved my hands to feel his hardness and said in a naughty tone, "Is the cobra looking for its den?"

"Umm...it seems," replied Mohan in equally naughty voice, "It is not comfortable unless it finds its warm den."

Both of us laughed aloud and started devouring each other in the delightful mood of a new couple. Our days were flying like dreams. I had not expected Mohan to be that caring. He was careful for every details of family life and the fact that he never insisted for sex unless he found me in perfect mood endeared him more. Till the weekend we both had leave and we used that time to know each other better. I had overcome my shyness to Mohan by then and didn't hesitate to take off my dresses in front of him. But during this period he appreciated my beauty so many times that I simply felt ashamed as he bestowed praises and one day told him, "Everyone knows your wife is beautiful but please don't mention it again and again to me or anyone else...I fee so ashamed."

We rejoined in our official assignments after the leave was over. As per formal procedure, the Zonal Chief Executive would meet every Engineer who joined newly in Mumbai office. I was advised to meet Mr. Imran Hussain, the Zonal Chief Executive (ZCE) of Maharashtra Zone. Mohan had met him earlier on joining. Mohan told me that for some odd reason he didn't like the man. It seemed to Mohan as if the man was not happy with Mohan for having married a Muslim girl though Mr. Hussain never pronounced it directly.

Anyway, I went to meet him. Mr. Khan was in his late forties or early fifties. Initially, he spoke about our projects and job responsibilities. We had coffee at his office. Then abruptly Mr. Hussain asked, "You are married to our Mr. Mohan Sengupta of Shipping Section, isn't it?"

I replied, "Yes Sir."

Mr. Hussain's next question took me by surprise, "You didn't find any Muslim guy better than him?"

I was angry but didn't show it, "Actually we knew each other for long and loved. So religious faith was not an issue to either of us. And I am proud of having chosen a right person as my life partner."

The last sentence I said with due emphasis. But Mr. Hussain lingered, "Well that's nice. But doesn't your husband insist to covert to his religion and ask to take the foods forbidden in Islam?"

I smiled back at the ZCE, "None of us has any problem with the other following his religion and food habits are very personal. We don't insist each other."

I was feeling irritated at such discussion that exposed his bigotry, his sectarian mindset and his undue curiosity. Back home in the evening I discussed with Mohan about my meeting with the ZCE. We were both ill-at-ease about the man though we knew we couldn't antagonise the top boss. Mohan told me about his intuition that somewhere he had a fear that the ZCE would create trouble for us and the only possible reason was his dislike for our interfaith marriage.

Mohan let out a gloomy smile and said, "Saima, a hostile tradition of rift has been created between the two communities and when people like us overcome that prejudice for love of each other, people from both sides start disliking us."

I pulled his head on my bosom and said, "But we have no prejudice, no hatred against each other, only love, and against all odds we will show the society."

Mohan placed his hands around me, hugging tightly and said, "I wish you don't face difficulties for loving me."

Noting his solemn tone and gloomy mood, I wanted to cheer him up and said, "Forget all these, I'm longing my dear friend, philosopher and guide to set my mood right by his extraordinary way of soothing my body, mind and soul."

Mohan understood my signal, pecked on my nape and guided me to the bed and we got busy in our intimate amorous game as a couple. Our married life continued with love and affection and Mohan always showered enough care. But the service life was slightly disturbed as the authority kept both of us shifting from one function to another almost every month. Both Mohan and me had the feeling that such frequent rotations were being carried out at the behest of Imran Sir, who clearly disapproved our interfaith marriage.