Non-Erotic It’s a hard rain

[Umakant007]

You should write more such stories you are a good writer

 

[komaalrani]

You should write more such stories you are a good writer

but readers like you are rare,... you must have seen number of views and comments and gaps between comments,...

 

[komaalrani]

less than three and half thousand views in three and half years, not even a dozen comments or like,... if it would have a tag like ince...or fu..k a page, this number would have been, ... but no point in talking about it, i am happy with a few but discerning readers, i only wish, may your tribe increase

 

[renuta]

 

[komaalrani]

kindly do share your specific views about story, that will be great help

 

[Umakant007]

Despite your other stories this 1 was a different joner story,... Not everyone like such stories and that to on this kind of sites ... Ya you are right if you change the title... You must get the views but not good readers... So don't get sad ...

 

[komaalrani]

Despite your other stories this 1 was a different joner story,... Not everyone like such stories and that to on this kind of sites ... Ya you are right if you change the title... You must get the views but not good readers... So don't get sad ...

I am not sad, but such response does not encourage one to post more and i agree about the site, but i am not aware where such stories will get readers, and i do feel, eroticism can be classic too and full of romance also, that is why i used Bilhan and Emily two of my favorite, T.S. Elliot for the poignant mood of the story and last poem from where the head line has been taken, was a tribute to him,

I do feel Sanskrit and Hindi Reet call has some of the best erotic literature that is why i started Bihari but as some moderator consigned it to, other forums i lost heart and as a respect to my threads told them to close down.

yes, i am not sad, but,... alas,

i feel a forum must have place for all type of stories, and however i am Lucky to get a few readers like you. I am writing since long and i dont bother about views or pages. I feel satisfaction must come from within me, can i read it after i wrote it ,, thanks soooooooo much

In Hindi, lala phir aaiyo was like that starting from a line of Padmakar.

 

[Umakant007]

Can you believe in a condition whare a girls soul transmitted to a man's body... And now a man behave like a woman

 

[Shetan]

It’s a hard rain



When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table…

Dusk was dawning on glass panes of his window, smoke rubbing its muzzle, peeping from outside , streets following like tedious argument, …every evening, it reminded him of Prufrock’s love poem, more than 12 years has gone, him occupying this cabin, but today was to be last day ,last evening,

Clock on wall reminded him, 10 minutes more, 10 minutes to move out, move out for ever.

When day started, it was like any other.

Same pressure, targets to be achieved, calls to be answered, calls to be avoided, meetings galore, but first hints came when somebody from finance texted about irrational behavior of company’s stock. Before he could make head of tell, HR had called everybody to be out in hall,


And there was blood bath.


Pink slips were handed, 242 persons, almost half of strength gone.

And then news, it was still a rumor, Acquisition and merger by some outside shark.

He only had a feeling of relief having been spared. And his feeling in his importance in him has been restored back, but after lunch heads and deputy heads of vertical were called to the board room.

His mouth was agape. She was there, he had first seen her emerging from a swimming pool of his condominium, a water nymph …but what she is doing here…

and after some time she came to him. May be a just touch of recognition, she stretched her hand for hand shake,

“Nothing personal, but in our organization, your team is redundant as we outsource it and already have a contract in place. “

And she moved to next VP.

Only five minutes are left, clock and security staff reminded him.

Packing was almost complete, he had already emptied his drawers, pills, ant-acid, sarbiturate, insulin pens…only few thin volumes of poetry were left on his shelf and he removed them. His few signs of sanity in this room...

It has become dark outside, uncertain dark…clouds hovering, typical Mumbai monsoon evening but more ominous, scary…

Oops I know I am failing as a story teller, knew it but… OK let me pass the baton to him and I will just be a fly on the wall. Go ahead,

Google translator ki madad se ye bhi padhungi.

 

[dcorn]

On one of those long and forlorn evening, suddenly I saw a water nymph, a mermaid emerging, with splash of water (Advantage of pool facing flat).

An orange swimsuit exactly like bay watch girls and her figure …I gasped.

Sculpturesque boobs, firm and taut, water drops hanging on fair glistening body…. as she slowly turned, her perfect ass made my bulge grow. Her face, perfect body and demeanor, almost basking in radiance of her beauty, just lingered in my mind, stoking my longings.

I accosted her again after a few days, from a very close quarter.

It was Sunday evening and I was going out.

And there was she, coming back from tennis court. Tall, slender perfect boobs glued to her tennis shirt wet with sweat, fully stretched. I could not stop myself from looking back and ogling her heavy swinging hips, must be late 20s. But agility of a teen, charm of a nubile.


We accosted each other many times and it lead to waving of hands and a certain recognition but no talks…she had come recently, an expat and was living in a tower just across mine.
Source: My maid.

But then again work claimed me.

It was end of first quarter, pressure for results, PPTs and Pie charts, company was not doing well, shares have plummeted and we were tightening our seat belts.

Let me confide in you, it is hard to move up the corporate ladder but harder still to retain your place, I had become a pro in SCM , led my team, did well in CRM, learn all the lingos and was always looking down at those ‘ piranhas’ but my interest in literature also gave me an edge.

It looked nice on CV for creativity, was good for networking and of course provided me a breather. I was member of many groups and societies which helped me to mingle with ‘socialites’.

And again I met her in such a group, in our gated community only.

We were discussing Sanskrit poetry and talks turned to erotic poetry as is wont with a lot of lecherous old men. It was my forte. Starting from quoting Amaru I went to recite something from Caurapâñcâśikâ, of Bilhana 11th century Kashmir poet,

Still when her eyes, as lotus petals long,
Like Fortune’s, goddess lotus-born, I see,
And see her wearied by her bosom’s load,
With both my arms clasping her close to me.

And our eyes met. She was listening to every word, attentively, appreciatively, almost devouring like a gourmet,

And everything else ceased for me.

Hand painted saree draped in a careful carelessness, a kutchi heavily embroidered choli barely able to hold her voluptuous assets, a bindi on her forehead, but no sindoor, no mangal sutra.

And we were alone immediately (actually after 45 minutes) sharing Masala chai, from authentic kulhads in an ethnic tea shop. And before I could ask who she is, she recited,

“I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?”

And I completed,

Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! They’d advertise – you know.

We completed together, Emily Dickinson’s rest of lines,


How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!


So exchange of name was ruled out but she did blurted that she is a Mumbai girl, did schooling from Sofia , went out to US, Masters from Wharton, joined a company out there, but is now back.

And some more notes were exchanged, boxes were ticked, I had a senior from IIM days who was associate at Wharton and she knew her. But no talk shop, no names ,no exchange of numbers and of course nothing about our jobs.

She was not only into poetry but astro, palmistry and guessed, of course correctly I am Cancerian. And before I could say anything she guessed another thing,

“Your birthday must be close?” she fluttered her kohl laden large eyes,

“Share it with Julius Caesar and Lady D.”

I replied while coming out and then jobs reclaimed us, she had a conference call coming from States and I had piles of PM to reply , give a finishing touch to my report of first quarter and be ready for new quarter, first day of new week.

But before that we had shared a lot about our common interest nay passion and although I am introvert but once I start talking, horses cannot drag me.

Just Fabulous ⟵⁠(⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)...I'm really astonished by the fact that you know about the love thief(⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠)...and then the great Emily Dickinson's praised quotes accross the globe....it's better to be nobody then somebody....it seems to me that you are highly interested in poetry (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)....Very programmatically written yet it's not confusing..just ...

I always surf in the English story section because I find some good stories in this particular section...i just wanted to see what you have written in this non erotic story...but touchwood you are a very good writer or should I say a very good poet or you are writer + poet -> wriet(⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆.....

Thank you for sharing this amazing piece of literature with us (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)..

Namaste