STORMY ROAD TO A TRANSFORMATION
The protagonist of this story is a celebrity, but under a different name. Though holder of no office he wields considerable influence in the ruling party of the State. Some even say he is a kingmaker. His detractors never tire of pointing out that he was once a mere clerk in a ration shop in the city. He indeed was a junior clerk, and a timid one at that. One day an event occurred that would have been a knock out blow for most, but in him it had the opposite effect—it unleashed energy hidden within him.
*
Appu knew that his dream of watching a live show was not attainable. His city Chennai, the world centre for prudery, was not the place for it. He watched blue films on cassettes instead. Nithi, his wife, like most women, found blue films disgusting. Once at Appu's request she watched for a while. 'More like physical exercise than making love,' she said. Appu had to agree that after a while it was boring, but did not agree that the men were all wearing rubber organs. 'They probably smear an anaesthetic ointment,' he said. 'You are sick,' she said. But Appu watched with the diligence of someone who knew that was all he would get.
Nithi worked in the accounts department in a bank. She left for work shortly after nine but her time of return varied. Often she came back late in the evening. At times when the accounts failed to tally she came very late indeed. Appu had no such problem. His shop timings were strictly nine to five.
Nithi was small made and sprightly. She was in the central office and for one as junior as she was it was indeed a tribute to her qualities that the manager had not only given her a key post in that key department but he also retained her beyond the usual tenure. Appu's work was not that exacting. His branch of the co-operative store (he did no like to call it a ration shop) that employed him was a small one but near enough for him to walk it thus enabling Nithi to use the two-wheeler.
For the frugal life they led his salary was adequate. Nithi's salary enabled them to enjoy some luxuries. They had no children after three years of marriage and though Appu's mother wanted her daughter-in-law to see gynaecologists Nithi strenuously refused. 'We'll wait,' she said. Appu suspected that she was on birth-control pills. She denied it when he asked her point blank, but admitted that if she took time off to have a baby at this critical phase her career prospects will suffer. But she was not averse to having sex, but not whenever Appu so desired. Her participation in it was never spontaneous or enthusiastic as those of the actresses in his favourite type of movies. But Appu dare not tell her that.
Appu was not happy about the two-wheeler that Nithi had to do every working day. It was almost an hour ride to and back and often Nithi had minor accidents. Bruised forearm and thighs and once her cheeks were somewhat swollen. These were not the usual minor injuries of falls from the scooter but Appu did not give much thought to it.
*
Nithi had never visited his shop and Appu had never been to her bank either. Appu was shy and very conscious of his lowly job. He would have felt very small if Nithi were to introduce him to her colleagues as a clerk in a ration shop, and Nithi might have liked it even less. Though he had never met her colleagues he knew they were a fun loving lot unlike the staff of his store. At least once a month Nithi went to her office in a silk sari and took makeup materials with her. It was for a party after office hours. On these days she returned late, as late 11 and once even at midnight. He was happy that his wife was enjoying herself.
He was thus surprised when one day Nithi handed him an invitation card addressed to him by name. It was from the manager of the bank inviting him to attend an office party in a hotel. Nithi said that the bank had gained an award and to celebrate they are having a grand party. Appu was uncomfortable. It was a five star hotel and he shared the general opinion of most people that to gain entry into them one had to be in full suit. Nithi assured him that she had been to such parties before and that pants and slacks was preferred wear with the manager himself setting the example.
"You have to come," said Nithi, "or else my colleagues will think badly of me and the manager may even feel that I have slighted him." Appu of course had no intention of letting down his wife. He agreed.
"Please introduce me to as few of your friends as possible," he said and Nithi laughed.
On evening of the party Appu and Nithi got into an auto rickshaw, he in his Sunday best, and Nithi in a blue-green silk sari and made up like a bridesmaid. The auto rickshaw had to stop at the gates and they walked into the imposing portico. As the gigantic bell marshal opened the door one of the bank employees of the reception committee welcomed them. Nithi introduced him to some of her colleagues. Appu found them a pleasant lot. In his short speech the manager insisted that they all have a fine time. The crowd then dispersed, some moving with firm purposeful strides to the bar, and others to the tables that the generous bank had loaded with food stuffs
During the auto rickshaw ride Nithi had told her husband repeatedly not to take too much of the whisky. 'Take it dilute' was her advice. Appu was not a drinking man, but when offered free he indulged. Appu liked the whisky. He had never tasted anything like that before. He started it dilute and as the evening wore on he took more and more and suddenly realised that he had exceeded. He moved somewhat unsteadily to the food table and nibbled some mutton-fried rice. He wanted to lie down. He moved round trying to locate Nithi but she had disappeared apparently helping in the arrangements. He sat on one of the chairs set between the drinks and the food sections. He felt like lying down or at least reclining on a sofa. Several rooms opening into the hall were marked for the bank staff. There were many bank employees in these rooms lolling about in the sofas. Appu did not want to join them. Appu searched for an unoccupied room. He found one furthest from the centre of activities and in his inebriated state did not notice that that room was not marked for them. He made for the toilet and emptied his bladder that lately had become priority number one. He looked round. He tired the sofa. He found it too yielding. He wanted to lie flat on a firm bed. The carpeted floor in that dark corner was ideal. He made his way to the corner and lay down and was soon asleep.
How long he slept he had no idea, but suddenly he was aware of voices in the room.
"I asked the hotel steward not to mark this room. No one knows that it is for our employees," said the male voice. The woman said something that was inaudible to Appu. Appu opened his eyes. From the dark corner behind the sofa he dimly saw two persons. One was a man and the other a woman. Inside his skull something was pounding. He dozed off. Again he heard voices.
"It is absolutely safe and in a party of this size no one will notice our absence." Clearly a man and a woman had come for lovemaking. Appu heard the squeaking of the cushions on the sofa. He did not think of revealing himself and moving out; he had not desire to kill their adventure. He decided that to pretend he was no there was the thing to do. He dozed off again. As if in a dream he had a desire to peep. A chance to see a live show was on a platter. It would be senseless to spurn it. The pounding inside his head intensified. He tried to doze off to ease the discomfort. Suddenly he woke up. What started off like a love making session had deteriorated into a fight.
"Bitch, slut," said the male voice. He was striving to control the loudness of his voice. He heard the noise of a slap and the woman fell on the sofa cringing.
"Don't beat me darling. I will do anything you ask me to do." She started removing her sari and the man stood over her with his arm raised.
"Quick, your bitch," he said as he prodded her on the thigh with his booted foot. She removed the sari and threw it on the sofa behind which Appu was hiding. One end was hanging over the armrest of the sofa and was quite close to Appu eyes. There was something familiar about that sari. It was blue-green. Appu remembered having seen a similar sari very recently. Amidst the pounding in his head he tried to recollect, but failed.
"I never cease marvelling at the size of your breasts for one so slight of build, and so soft too." The man anger must have abated for he was talking softly. His voice was slightly slurred. Suddenly his mood changed. "How did you make it big you slut," he demanded.
"You know how, darling. You blow it up. Please blow it some more." She was by now quite naked. He pinched her buttock till she whimpered, and then gave a resounding slap on the buttock. She sat on the sofa opposite the one her husband was laying. The man was busy undressing. He then squatted on the carpet and taking one tit into his mouth he puffed up his cheeks and started blowing, but only succeeded in making blubbery noises.
Appu propped his head on the base of a lamp and tried to focus. With an effort he fused the double images. Though he saw only from behind he identified the man quite easily by the distinctive crouch to his back—it was the manager. Suddenly he recollected—Nithi was wearing that sari. He with an effort focussed on the naked women seated on the sofa. It was Nithi.
Appu jerked as if jolted. He tried to get up but he was bereft of power. Even moving a finger was impossible.
"You have made it bigger, darling. Now it's my turn. Let me blow." He stood up and she took his penis into her mouth.
