Copyright: This story is a work of fiction. Please don't reproduce this text in whole or in parts without the explicit permission of the author.
This story is a continuation of Windows: Part 1…
The whole of the day went away as if in a daze. My parents noticed it too, at the lunch table, when instead of pouring water from the jug onto a glass; I poured it into a bowl that was meant for soup.
"If you are so worried about your studies, why did you come home during this break?" My mother was being sarcastic. I knew, since the time I had left home to go to another city, she was worried as hell, and probably called me up at least 2-3 times a week. Even my friends, at the dorm knew about it.
I was actually preoccupied. I was trying to re-live my first experience of making love. Fleeting images of Madhu crossed my mind, making me oblivious of my surrounding. In a haze, I finished my lunch, answering in grunts to my parents' questions.
Finally, my mother tapped me on the head, and said, "Here, take this sweetmeat. This is from the temple. This is the offering, from today's special prayers that Mrs. Gupta did for Madhu."
I was instantly on the alert. Normally, in our communities, special prayers were done for something special. I mean, like if someone was suffering from an incurable disease, or if someone was about to open a new business, or someone was desirous of some personal fortunes, etc. So what did Madhu want, I thought.
"So, what's up with Madhu?" I asked.
"Oh nothing much, you know how world is," my mother replied nonchalantly.
"So, how is the world?" I asked.
Anyway, the conversation didn't go anywhere, except that I was piqued. What did Madhu want, or rather, what did Mrs. Gupta want for her daughter. But very soon, that question vanished from my mind, as a fleeting image of a taunt nipple shimmered in front of my eyes. The nipples shouldn't have shimmered, for I was reading … O.K staring … at a Computer Architecture book. So where did that nipple come from. I looked again, and the nipple had vanished.
But soon, another image of a belly-button appeared, and below that, I could distinctly see the shadowy curve, and pair of puffed up pussy-lips; the pussy-lips were trying to engulf a large pink head of an angry cock. I shook myself; the image disappeared. What the heck was I doing, sitting in the living room, with a book and an enormous erection! My parents could come in any minute. And I knew, I could never explain how a Computer Architecture textbook could give anyone an erection! That vision was so funny, I laughed out loud, and thankfully my erection subsided.
It had become too stuffy and hot in the house, so I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and went out.
"Krishna!" I heard a girl's voice call me, and I saw Lali walking towards me.
Lali, as I had mentioned was one of the neighborhood girls. She was the one that used to pester me with her math and science questions. Well, not that I minded it much. Lali was a couple of years younger to me; she had just finished her high-school, and entered a local college. She was, I grudgingly agreed, a rather pretty thing. Lithesome, and thin, she was quiet tall, about 5'7" to my 5'11. She was at least 2 inches taller than Madhu (why was I comparing her with Madhu!) She had straight hair that she had cut short, up to her shoulders.
Since joining college, she had discovered fashion. She either wore tight jeans, and halter-tees, or flowing skirts with tight bodices. I knew she was quiet popular, because my other friends (guys) in the colony were always talking about her.
"Are you free today evening?" she asked me. I looked at her, and thought about what Madhu had told me.
"I don't have time today," I was rather abrupt. She stopped in her tracks. In the past, although I had never been obviously delighted to see her, I had also never been rude to her. I had always found time for her. But today, I was angry.
She could sense my anger, but she couldn't understand why.
"Come on, I have a few questions"
"Look Lali, I said, I didn't have time for you today."
"OK, I'll ask Deepak," she retorted.
"Fine with me," and with that, I walked away.
Deepak was my friend. In our neighborhood, other than me, he too had gotten admission to an engineering college, although a local one, and not as hallowed, as the one I was in.
Anyway, Deepak was the fall-back guy for all those girls, who were attracted to the brainy nerd kinds. In India, in those days, the middle class was still steeped in traditions. The ideal boy in most families was either a doctor or an engineers or a civil servants. Any other profession did not count. That was why, whenever I was in town, either we (i.e. my parents and I) were invited to someone's house, or one of those families invited themselves to lunches or dinners at our place. I mean those families with 18 and 19 years old daughters! Deepak too got invited, but not as much as I. And the other guys, well they were not even allowed near their houses by the ever-watchful parents of those 18 and 19 years old.
My musings were interrupted by that same (grating to my ears then) voice.
"Why are you angry with me? If you are sad because of Madhu, don't take it out on me," said Lali.
I stopped and turned to look back at Lali, who had caught up with me again.
"Why should Madhu be sad? I met her today morning, and she was rather happy," I commented, also slightly red in the face, as I imagined the reasons for her being happy.
Lali probably did not notice it, as she continued, "Why? Didn't you know she has come home for good?"
"What!!"
"Ya, my mother, and you know Priya, her mother; they were talking about it today at my place. I overheard them say that Madhu's in-laws were very bad, and they had left Madhu back with her parents, and …"
"Hold on, hold on," I stopped her, "Why should Madhu's in-laws do that?"
Suddenly, Lali became shy, "I don't know. She has been married three years, you know."
Off course, I knew that. What a stupid girl. Impatient now, I continued, "So, what's that got to do with it, or are you saying that the government has made a new marriage law that all marriages shall last for 3 years only!"
"Oh! Why don't you understand!" she exclaimed. "My mother was saying that Madhu should have had a kid by now."
Yes, that thought had crossed my mind too. Our society was a joint-family society (not so much any more, especially in metros, but in towns and villages, it is even today like that. Sons and their wives lived with the son's parents.) I knew that in most families, it was generally expected by the guy's parents, that their daughter-in-law would bear them a grandchild (son preferably, but daughter would do too) pretty soon after marriage. And if not, the girl was the one who was usually blamed for not conceiving, especially the stay-at home girls who did not work. I knew, although Madhu had a college degree, she did not work. And she stayed with her husband's family too.
I looked at Lali; she was rather red in the face and kind of twisting and chewing her lower lip. She looked quiet pretty, but I was angry nonetheless. Why should Madhu be the only one to be blamed? It could be her husband's fault too. Off course, all these modern day marriage councilors and fertility clinics were unheard of during those days.
