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Romance My experience with love [Completed]
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Love your writing. You are a very good story teller. Keep up the good work. I love reading stuff that is considered taboo
Guys... and Gals (if any gal is reading this story) --
You take so much time reading my stories. It will take much less time to write a comment, and even much lesser time to like or love this story. Such acts of kindness encourage a writer. We spend way too much time. Please be thankful... if not thankful, at least be kind.
Thanks and Cheers!
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Thank you!
You can read many such stuff in my stories.I don't like incest, which, from the looks of it, everyone here loves.
But in my stories, I will break and challenge many taboos.
Stay with this story... it will be a very long one.
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One evening, when I returned from office, I noticed that Gabi had still not returned from the university.
Usually, she returned before me. Therefore, I obviously thought that she had to stay for her work. However, when she did not return even three hours after I reached home, I started to get worried. Very worried! My sixth sense obviously thought that something bad had happened to Gabi. I called her Professor who was guiding her – I could not reach him in his office, so I called his home, and he told me that Gabi left the department about five hours ago! Now that was something extremely out of the ordinary.
She left office five hours ago and haven’t yet come home! It was highly irregular for Gabi to do any such thing and I got extremely worried.
I ran to the nearest police station to file a missing person's report.
As usual, the police hesitated in filing a missing person's report, as they said that she might be visiting a friend or something like that. But then I explained to them that Gabi is a foreigner, and a student here. She does not know anyone in this city, except for a couple of people at her university.
After much persuasion, finally police agreed to file a report. They got all the details from me. The Indian police are not known for their congeniality. So, I was surprised when they started empathizing with me and trying to put me at ease. Something was amiss. They asked me how my wife commuted and when I explained that she usually commuted by bus, they dropped a bomb on my head.
There was an accident just about four hours ago, involving a bus, in which five people had perished, including two women, many others were seriously injured.
One of the deceased women was a foreigner.
The more they told me about it, the heavier my heart became.
They asked me to reveal more details and I told them. I could almost faint - how could Gabi leave me… and that too like that!
I was not sure what I was talking about, but it fell on me heavily, when the police inspector confirmed that my wife…
my dearest Gabi indeed was one of the two women, who had died!
Usually, she returned before me. Therefore, I obviously thought that she had to stay for her work. However, when she did not return even three hours after I reached home, I started to get worried. Very worried! My sixth sense obviously thought that something bad had happened to Gabi. I called her Professor who was guiding her – I could not reach him in his office, so I called his home, and he told me that Gabi left the department about five hours ago! Now that was something extremely out of the ordinary.
She left office five hours ago and haven’t yet come home! It was highly irregular for Gabi to do any such thing and I got extremely worried.
I ran to the nearest police station to file a missing person's report.
As usual, the police hesitated in filing a missing person's report, as they said that she might be visiting a friend or something like that. But then I explained to them that Gabi is a foreigner, and a student here. She does not know anyone in this city, except for a couple of people at her university.
After much persuasion, finally police agreed to file a report. They got all the details from me. The Indian police are not known for their congeniality. So, I was surprised when they started empathizing with me and trying to put me at ease. Something was amiss. They asked me how my wife commuted and when I explained that she usually commuted by bus, they dropped a bomb on my head.
There was an accident just about four hours ago, involving a bus, in which five people had perished, including two women, many others were seriously injured.
One of the deceased women was a foreigner.
The more they told me about it, the heavier my heart became.
They asked me to reveal more details and I told them. I could almost faint - how could Gabi leave me… and that too like that!
I was not sure what I was talking about, but it fell on me heavily, when the police inspector confirmed that my wife…
my dearest Gabi indeed was one of the two women, who had died!
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Gabi’s death threw me into serious depression.
In just one stroke of fate, I lost the love of my life - my wife - my Gabi - and my precious unborn child! If that was not cruelty, then what was? If she was to be taken so hastily, why was she given to me to begin with? We cremated Gabi with traditional rituals, because I had no idea how she would have wanted that to happen. What newly wedded couple would discuss such a thing! I remember meeting and talking to several people, but I don’t remember any faces, or what I talked with them. On the night of her cremation, all the people who were closest to me - Ma, dad and Kajal were with me.
But that could not comfort me. I could not stop crying. I could not suppress my heartache. I could not let go of my guilt. I could not eat anything; I felt as if the life-force had left me. I was sitting alone in my room. I wanted to die. I really did. What was the purpose of living without Gabi - the love of my life? All her memories were coming to me in waves and swamping over me. I wanted to cry more… but could not even do that. After one point, all the tears had drained out of me.
I don’t know what time it was, when Kajal entered my room. Ma saw her going in but said nothing; she must have known or perhaps she herself was the architect of this. Kajal entered and silently undressed; she did not even bother to close the door behind her. In no time she was completely naked. I was sitting and watching her. Only watching - I was not in a state of mind to react to the beauty of her gradually revealing pregnant body. On any other occasion, I would have admired her beauty, tasted it, and made love to her, but today was a very sad day. I just sat numb, watching. I could, however, understand that Kajal was doing this to give me some emotional support. I was still not able to understand why she wanted to do that. My remorse was personal, and she should have let me live it.
She sat beside me on the bed and before I could understand what was really happening, Kajal moved my head firmly down, down to her chest. Her hands pressured the back of my head until my lips were in front of her beautiful, soft orbs. They seemed bigger now than how I saw them last. Her nipples were darker and swollen. They looked different, but beautiful. She too looked different. More… plump… no, not plump, just full in her stomach.
"Come," she was saying, "Drink. Drink my milk."
Before I knew, I was sucking her nipple. I noticed several things at once: Kajal’s areola was puffy and felt full in my mouth… and they were moist too, which helped me to latch on. Instinctively, I squeezed her nipple between my tongue and the upper palate. As a reward, in a quick stream the warm and sweet milk almost burst out of Kajal’s nipple.
Kajal smiled.
"Drink."
She whispered sweetly, and I obliged. At that moment, I felt so close to her as I nursed from her and started to suck more intently. Kajal began to caress my hair, and I began to feel warm and full. Once I was done with one breast, I switched and continued to feed from the other beautiful milk pot. When she was done breastfeeding, she sat up on the bed, and spread her legs.
I didn’t have to be told what to do. It is surreal to understand what a woman can do, isn’t it? As I opened her, leaned down, and let my tongue slide through the trough of her vulva, Kajal drew in a slow breath and thought of the last time I did oral on her. She loved the way I did that - her first - and absolutely achieved ecstasy when she felt that warm, tingling, burning pleasure between her legs. There was nothing before that and nothing after that. For her, that was the best orgasm of her life - all of them came from me.
Kajal felt similar sensation again - she found herself escalating into soaring pleasure oblivion as the blur of my slithering tongue pushed her over the edge. She had no idea how long she felt the ecstasy, which it seemed to melt through minutes. However long, she came down only to find herself on the verge of coming again. She could see me burying his lips between her labia, sucking her clitoris into my mouth, and refusing to let it go.
She began a quiet yelp, "No, it’s too…" - that was stifled as she rocketed away into the second orgasm.
I noticed that Kajal’s hands had found her breasts. One of her fingers delicately orbited each nipple until drops of her milk trickled and spilled around her areola. I had had enough. I dropped my hands to my pajama, undid its waist-string and dropped it with urgency. About the time Kajal’s third orgasm ended, I presented my penis at the swollen opening of her vagina.
"Wait," she said.
She pushed and slid on the bed. I could tell how hungry Kajal was for the final act of coupling. She spread her legs wide, and with that her cunt was opened wide, a stretched set of moist, pink, fat lips surrounded by a trail of her pubic hair. Although the entrance to Kajal’s vagina had opened, the tunnel itself had not opened much at all.
"I love you," I said, dropping the head of my penis into her.
Both of us gasped at once. I felt very warm… almost hot. She felt very soft and very wet. Kajal was recalling the first time she had let me inside her. She knew from that experience that I was barely inside her, but already she felt stretched.
I was not sure whether it was a moral thing to do; even though Gabi had just departed, but pumping in and out of Kajal’s cunt felt good and I found myself doing it at a fairly fast rate. Kajal, it was obvious to me, was enjoying it too. Her hands were back at her breasts, milking the nipples with tight squeezes, while her mouth was open. I wondered if she would come, again.
Kajal, in fact, was coming. In just about ten strokes into intercourse, the sweep of orgasm suddenly enveloped her, and refused to let her down. It melted into different stages - she tingled all over, then her crotch burned almost painfully, then she was aware of the relentless ramming of my cock in her pussy. Then her breasts were behaving nasty. Each light touch of a finger to her puffy areola made her sting with a delicious pleasure, almost like a tiny orgasm, on top of the one that now seemed continuous.
When it slipped away, she opened her eyes to watch me leaning over her, thrusting at the furry patch between her legs unrelentingly. It was a major turn-on for her. She found herself coming again, but relatively briefly. Perhaps it was all part of one big orgasm. When those few seconds were through, she opened her eyes again, and this time the determination on my face soon sent her back into ecstasy, and the cycle continued.
After about ten minutes of this, Kajal knew that it had to stop soon. If she had counted right, which she doubted, she had had at least six orgasms. Although they seemed to become more intense each time, sometimes much more intense, she felt as if she could barely take anymore.
"Oh, dear, I love the feel of your shishno." she confessed.
I, meanwhile, was at the end of my rope when she said that. I could not hold out any longer, though I had heard and practiced so many times that it was my duty to fuck my girl until she came at least once.
"Kajal," I said, gasping slightly at a breath, "have you come yet?"
Kajal giggled softly. "Yes," she whispered. "I have. Keep doing what you are doing."
She cupped a breast with her hand. "Here," she offered, "it will help."
I leaned down to her breast and taking a good portion of it in my mouth, drew streams of milk from her. Kajal closed her eyes, involuntarily swept away. The whole idea was such a turn-on to me that I began to feel a really strong pressure in my groin.
"God, oh, God," I said, slowing my thrusts to long, powerful strokes. It was over in a few seconds, and Kajal could feel a new wetness deep within as semen gushed from my dick.
We spent a long time that way, with my head resting on Kajal’s chest, my mouth gently sucking at her full round breast, and her hand brushing against the back of my head. She felt tender and fulfilled as she passed her milk to me. I felt warm inside; I felt as though I would never take enough of it.
"How did you feel, honey?"
My heart ached - I knew why Kajal offered herself to me. Making love to Kajal was an ethereal experience, but I knew it was to help me overcome the grief of Gabi’s death. I did not say anything; Kajal did not expect anything to hear anyway.
She waited for a few seconds and then said,
"Did you say hello to your baby?" she almost cooed.
I looked at her incredulously… what?
"It is your child that I am carrying." She calmly declared in a very loving voice.
‘What! What did she say?’
She nodded, smiling with so much love and affection that I melted, “Yes honey… you gave me this gift to again become a mother…” she stopped for a while for the message to sink in.
"I did not tell you before because Didi too was pregnant… everyone thinks that I got pregnant by my husband… but the truth is that this one is your child. I hardly let him touch me anymore. But please don’t be alarmed or be worried. I don’t expect anything in return."
I stared at her in disbelief; not able to decide how to react to this revelation. Just two days ago, my life was completely shattered, but now, again there was a glimmer of light. I was not sure what to say or how to react. I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to beat her for hiding this important information - I did nothing. I simply buried my head in her bosom.
"Marry me?" I said, finally.
"No." Kajal declared in firm but very soft voice, as if she knew what I would have said, "I knew you will say that because you are a good person. But that will be wrong of me to demand. If I were single, and unmarried, I would have said yes. Immediately. But no. Not now. I know you will keep me and my other two children very happy. But that is not right."
"But is it right for you to ask your husband to look after MY child?"
"Wait, I am not finished yet. Let me explain why I can not marry you… You have a certain stature in the society. I am not up there. Let us face it, however broadminded you are; these things really matter. Give it some time… Please get our the grief of Gabi Didi’s death as soon as possible… when you are, please find another girl for you. If you ask me, I will also search for you. Didi is gone. She won’t come back. So please don’t waste your life only reliving her memories. You are young. You will find love again, and you should find love again.”
She looked at me; I wanted to vehemently oppose, but in my heart, I understood what she said and that she was right. Kajal continued,
“As far as I am concerned, I am yours. I love you. Our child is how we will always be connected, wherever we are."
My eyes welled up at what she told me. I was choked. I wanted to say something, not sure what, but was not able to say it out loud. I never had to ride an emotional roller-coaster. But in the past couple of days was such that I did not know how to cope up with them. I thought a part of me had died with Gabi, and a part of me lived inside Kajal.
Life is an amazing thing!
In just one stroke of fate, I lost the love of my life - my wife - my Gabi - and my precious unborn child! If that was not cruelty, then what was? If she was to be taken so hastily, why was she given to me to begin with? We cremated Gabi with traditional rituals, because I had no idea how she would have wanted that to happen. What newly wedded couple would discuss such a thing! I remember meeting and talking to several people, but I don’t remember any faces, or what I talked with them. On the night of her cremation, all the people who were closest to me - Ma, dad and Kajal were with me.
But that could not comfort me. I could not stop crying. I could not suppress my heartache. I could not let go of my guilt. I could not eat anything; I felt as if the life-force had left me. I was sitting alone in my room. I wanted to die. I really did. What was the purpose of living without Gabi - the love of my life? All her memories were coming to me in waves and swamping over me. I wanted to cry more… but could not even do that. After one point, all the tears had drained out of me.
I don’t know what time it was, when Kajal entered my room. Ma saw her going in but said nothing; she must have known or perhaps she herself was the architect of this. Kajal entered and silently undressed; she did not even bother to close the door behind her. In no time she was completely naked. I was sitting and watching her. Only watching - I was not in a state of mind to react to the beauty of her gradually revealing pregnant body. On any other occasion, I would have admired her beauty, tasted it, and made love to her, but today was a very sad day. I just sat numb, watching. I could, however, understand that Kajal was doing this to give me some emotional support. I was still not able to understand why she wanted to do that. My remorse was personal, and she should have let me live it.
She sat beside me on the bed and before I could understand what was really happening, Kajal moved my head firmly down, down to her chest. Her hands pressured the back of my head until my lips were in front of her beautiful, soft orbs. They seemed bigger now than how I saw them last. Her nipples were darker and swollen. They looked different, but beautiful. She too looked different. More… plump… no, not plump, just full in her stomach.
"Come," she was saying, "Drink. Drink my milk."
Before I knew, I was sucking her nipple. I noticed several things at once: Kajal’s areola was puffy and felt full in my mouth… and they were moist too, which helped me to latch on. Instinctively, I squeezed her nipple between my tongue and the upper palate. As a reward, in a quick stream the warm and sweet milk almost burst out of Kajal’s nipple.
Kajal smiled.
"Drink."
She whispered sweetly, and I obliged. At that moment, I felt so close to her as I nursed from her and started to suck more intently. Kajal began to caress my hair, and I began to feel warm and full. Once I was done with one breast, I switched and continued to feed from the other beautiful milk pot. When she was done breastfeeding, she sat up on the bed, and spread her legs.
I didn’t have to be told what to do. It is surreal to understand what a woman can do, isn’t it? As I opened her, leaned down, and let my tongue slide through the trough of her vulva, Kajal drew in a slow breath and thought of the last time I did oral on her. She loved the way I did that - her first - and absolutely achieved ecstasy when she felt that warm, tingling, burning pleasure between her legs. There was nothing before that and nothing after that. For her, that was the best orgasm of her life - all of them came from me.
Kajal felt similar sensation again - she found herself escalating into soaring pleasure oblivion as the blur of my slithering tongue pushed her over the edge. She had no idea how long she felt the ecstasy, which it seemed to melt through minutes. However long, she came down only to find herself on the verge of coming again. She could see me burying his lips between her labia, sucking her clitoris into my mouth, and refusing to let it go.
She began a quiet yelp, "No, it’s too…" - that was stifled as she rocketed away into the second orgasm.
I noticed that Kajal’s hands had found her breasts. One of her fingers delicately orbited each nipple until drops of her milk trickled and spilled around her areola. I had had enough. I dropped my hands to my pajama, undid its waist-string and dropped it with urgency. About the time Kajal’s third orgasm ended, I presented my penis at the swollen opening of her vagina.
"Wait," she said.
She pushed and slid on the bed. I could tell how hungry Kajal was for the final act of coupling. She spread her legs wide, and with that her cunt was opened wide, a stretched set of moist, pink, fat lips surrounded by a trail of her pubic hair. Although the entrance to Kajal’s vagina had opened, the tunnel itself had not opened much at all.
"I love you," I said, dropping the head of my penis into her.
Both of us gasped at once. I felt very warm… almost hot. She felt very soft and very wet. Kajal was recalling the first time she had let me inside her. She knew from that experience that I was barely inside her, but already she felt stretched.
I was not sure whether it was a moral thing to do; even though Gabi had just departed, but pumping in and out of Kajal’s cunt felt good and I found myself doing it at a fairly fast rate. Kajal, it was obvious to me, was enjoying it too. Her hands were back at her breasts, milking the nipples with tight squeezes, while her mouth was open. I wondered if she would come, again.
Kajal, in fact, was coming. In just about ten strokes into intercourse, the sweep of orgasm suddenly enveloped her, and refused to let her down. It melted into different stages - she tingled all over, then her crotch burned almost painfully, then she was aware of the relentless ramming of my cock in her pussy. Then her breasts were behaving nasty. Each light touch of a finger to her puffy areola made her sting with a delicious pleasure, almost like a tiny orgasm, on top of the one that now seemed continuous.
When it slipped away, she opened her eyes to watch me leaning over her, thrusting at the furry patch between her legs unrelentingly. It was a major turn-on for her. She found herself coming again, but relatively briefly. Perhaps it was all part of one big orgasm. When those few seconds were through, she opened her eyes again, and this time the determination on my face soon sent her back into ecstasy, and the cycle continued.
After about ten minutes of this, Kajal knew that it had to stop soon. If she had counted right, which she doubted, she had had at least six orgasms. Although they seemed to become more intense each time, sometimes much more intense, she felt as if she could barely take anymore.
"Oh, dear, I love the feel of your shishno." she confessed.
I, meanwhile, was at the end of my rope when she said that. I could not hold out any longer, though I had heard and practiced so many times that it was my duty to fuck my girl until she came at least once.
"Kajal," I said, gasping slightly at a breath, "have you come yet?"
Kajal giggled softly. "Yes," she whispered. "I have. Keep doing what you are doing."
She cupped a breast with her hand. "Here," she offered, "it will help."
I leaned down to her breast and taking a good portion of it in my mouth, drew streams of milk from her. Kajal closed her eyes, involuntarily swept away. The whole idea was such a turn-on to me that I began to feel a really strong pressure in my groin.
"God, oh, God," I said, slowing my thrusts to long, powerful strokes. It was over in a few seconds, and Kajal could feel a new wetness deep within as semen gushed from my dick.
We spent a long time that way, with my head resting on Kajal’s chest, my mouth gently sucking at her full round breast, and her hand brushing against the back of my head. She felt tender and fulfilled as she passed her milk to me. I felt warm inside; I felt as though I would never take enough of it.
"How did you feel, honey?"
My heart ached - I knew why Kajal offered herself to me. Making love to Kajal was an ethereal experience, but I knew it was to help me overcome the grief of Gabi’s death. I did not say anything; Kajal did not expect anything to hear anyway.
She waited for a few seconds and then said,
"Did you say hello to your baby?" she almost cooed.
I looked at her incredulously… what?
"It is your child that I am carrying." She calmly declared in a very loving voice.
‘What! What did she say?’
She nodded, smiling with so much love and affection that I melted, “Yes honey… you gave me this gift to again become a mother…” she stopped for a while for the message to sink in.
"I did not tell you before because Didi too was pregnant… everyone thinks that I got pregnant by my husband… but the truth is that this one is your child. I hardly let him touch me anymore. But please don’t be alarmed or be worried. I don’t expect anything in return."
I stared at her in disbelief; not able to decide how to react to this revelation. Just two days ago, my life was completely shattered, but now, again there was a glimmer of light. I was not sure what to say or how to react. I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to beat her for hiding this important information - I did nothing. I simply buried my head in her bosom.
"Marry me?" I said, finally.
"No." Kajal declared in firm but very soft voice, as if she knew what I would have said, "I knew you will say that because you are a good person. But that will be wrong of me to demand. If I were single, and unmarried, I would have said yes. Immediately. But no. Not now. I know you will keep me and my other two children very happy. But that is not right."
"But is it right for you to ask your husband to look after MY child?"
"Wait, I am not finished yet. Let me explain why I can not marry you… You have a certain stature in the society. I am not up there. Let us face it, however broadminded you are; these things really matter. Give it some time… Please get our the grief of Gabi Didi’s death as soon as possible… when you are, please find another girl for you. If you ask me, I will also search for you. Didi is gone. She won’t come back. So please don’t waste your life only reliving her memories. You are young. You will find love again, and you should find love again.”
She looked at me; I wanted to vehemently oppose, but in my heart, I understood what she said and that she was right. Kajal continued,
“As far as I am concerned, I am yours. I love you. Our child is how we will always be connected, wherever we are."
My eyes welled up at what she told me. I was choked. I wanted to say something, not sure what, but was not able to say it out loud. I never had to ride an emotional roller-coaster. But in the past couple of days was such that I did not know how to cope up with them. I thought a part of me had died with Gabi, and a part of me lived inside Kajal.
Life is an amazing thing!
Last edited by a moderator:
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I lovingly touched Kajal’s belly.
Now I understood the enormity of what I had! She was carrying my child. MY CHILD! It was unfortunate that I won’t have any say in how that child was going to be raised. Knowing Kajal, she was going to ensure every good thing conceivable for the child, but then there were limits. That thought again saddened me. I cried silently. Kajal consoled me with her milk. It had an oddly calming effect on me.
I don’t know when I fell asleep. I got up when I found Ma whispering my name. I was snuggled up to Kajal, who was also in the process of waking up. Ma seemed to have developed a habit of walking in on me when I was having sex. Somehow, it did not bother me at all. In fact, I felt better that Ma was also there. It seemed very natural to me.
"Ma…" I started.
"You should start shutting the door behind you, you know." She smiled, caressing my hair.
By that time Kajal too was beginning to awake.
"You are so beautiful, Kajal, my dear child." Ma said lovingly caressing her cheek.
"Garbhavati ho kar kitni pyaari lag rahi hai (You are looking so beautiful and pretty being pregnent)!"
Kajal only smiled in response, even though she was slightly embarrassed that Ma saw her in naked, pregnant state. She tried to cover herself, but Ma stopped her.
"No. Let me look at you, beta."
Ma said and really looked at her. She lovingly touched her pregnant belly and swollen breasts. Kajal was producing so much already that just a light squeeze expressed few drops of milk.
"Tu poori saubhagyavati lag rahi hai meri bachchi! Tu sada sukhi reh!" Ma said and kissed Kajal's forehead and then said, "Dad too has seen you both… yes, your room door was open. It was he who asked me to wake you up."
Kajal hid her face with her hands in shame.
"Don’t be ashamed honey! As I have said so many times earlier too, for us, you are our daughter. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. We love you all the same." She stopped for a while and looked at us. We were sitting, unsure of what to do.
"Get dressed, if you want to." Ma chuckled weakly, clearly struggling to hold back her tears, "I am going to prepare tea for all of us. Let us sit together like a happy family. Happiness seems to have a short life-span in this household."
Ma said this last bit in a sad, disappointing tone. It pierced my heart, as well as Kajal’s. I know that Ma too was heartbroken at Gabi’s demise. She got up and shut the door behind her.
"Some milk before tea?" Kajal offered.
"How long will you keep doing it?"
"I will do it as long as I can." Kajal said in a motherly voice, "you may be the father of this child, but in some ways, you too are one of my own children. I know it is all so confusing… even for me. But, when I see you, I see more of a child, and less of a man. I care for you as I do for Sunil and Latika. It is a strange feeling, and I can not explain it to you. But there, I said that."
"I love you, Kajal."
"I know. I love you too. Now come, let us get dressed."
Now I understood the enormity of what I had! She was carrying my child. MY CHILD! It was unfortunate that I won’t have any say in how that child was going to be raised. Knowing Kajal, she was going to ensure every good thing conceivable for the child, but then there were limits. That thought again saddened me. I cried silently. Kajal consoled me with her milk. It had an oddly calming effect on me.
I don’t know when I fell asleep. I got up when I found Ma whispering my name. I was snuggled up to Kajal, who was also in the process of waking up. Ma seemed to have developed a habit of walking in on me when I was having sex. Somehow, it did not bother me at all. In fact, I felt better that Ma was also there. It seemed very natural to me.
"Ma…" I started.
"You should start shutting the door behind you, you know." She smiled, caressing my hair.
By that time Kajal too was beginning to awake.
"You are so beautiful, Kajal, my dear child." Ma said lovingly caressing her cheek.
"Garbhavati ho kar kitni pyaari lag rahi hai (You are looking so beautiful and pretty being pregnent)!"
Kajal only smiled in response, even though she was slightly embarrassed that Ma saw her in naked, pregnant state. She tried to cover herself, but Ma stopped her.
"No. Let me look at you, beta."
Ma said and really looked at her. She lovingly touched her pregnant belly and swollen breasts. Kajal was producing so much already that just a light squeeze expressed few drops of milk.
"Tu poori saubhagyavati lag rahi hai meri bachchi! Tu sada sukhi reh!" Ma said and kissed Kajal's forehead and then said, "Dad too has seen you both… yes, your room door was open. It was he who asked me to wake you up."
Kajal hid her face with her hands in shame.
"Don’t be ashamed honey! As I have said so many times earlier too, for us, you are our daughter. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. We love you all the same." She stopped for a while and looked at us. We were sitting, unsure of what to do.
"Get dressed, if you want to." Ma chuckled weakly, clearly struggling to hold back her tears, "I am going to prepare tea for all of us. Let us sit together like a happy family. Happiness seems to have a short life-span in this household."
Ma said this last bit in a sad, disappointing tone. It pierced my heart, as well as Kajal’s. I know that Ma too was heartbroken at Gabi’s demise. She got up and shut the door behind her.
"Some milk before tea?" Kajal offered.
"How long will you keep doing it?"
"I will do it as long as I can." Kajal said in a motherly voice, "you may be the father of this child, but in some ways, you too are one of my own children. I know it is all so confusing… even for me. But, when I see you, I see more of a child, and less of a man. I care for you as I do for Sunil and Latika. It is a strange feeling, and I can not explain it to you. But there, I said that."
"I love you, Kajal."
"I know. I love you too. Now come, let us get dressed."
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Ma and dad stayed with me for a few more days. I told them about my child with Kajal... and to my utter surprise, both were happy to hear the news. I told them that I asked Kajal to marry me, to which both Ma and Dad seemed okay.
They even discussed with her the possibility of her getting married to me.
“Kajal, beta… if you two are okay to get married to each other, we will not object. You are our daughter, and we will be happy to welcome you as our daughter in law.”
“Ma, how nice for you to say this… I am forever grateful to you. But first, please understand that I will not take advantage of your situation. Amar and all of us are in grief… getting married to me might seem like a good thing to do while we are grieving.
“Yes, this is Amar’s child, but I will not force myself on him.”
“It is not about forcing you on me.” I objected.
“Wait, please let me finish.” Kajal interjected, “Ma… Pita ji, he is still very young… and in no way I want him to raise my two children. Yes, Sunil looks at you as his father figure, but that will still remain the case even if you do not marry me.”
“But Beta, what will your husband say?”
“He suspects that this is not his child. We have not… you know… not had any…” Kajal trailed but all of us understood.
“But that is so dangerous for you!”
“I will divorce him Ma. I can not live with him.”
“Kajal… meri bachchi, tu apne husband ke sath agar khush nahi hai to chhod de usko (Kajal, my daughter, if you are not happy with your husband, then please leave him). Pati agar prem kare tabhi wo Parmeshwar hota hai (A husband is a wife's God only so long as he loves her). Maar-peet karne wala pati pati nahi hota (One who beats his wife is no God). Tu hamaare sath reh (You can stay with us)."
Kajal thanked Ma and Dad for their offer, for which she was rebuked. Dad told her that she is his daughter. And it is her right to come and live with them. And it is their right to protect their daughter.
Ma and Dad were disappointed that Kajal did not want me to give the child my name. But when Kajal argued with them with facts, they agreed that she was not the most suitable person for me to get married to. But they wanted to do something for the child, so they set up a generous insurance for the unborn baby, so that it does not face any challenges for education and marriage. They also requested Kajal to just look after me till the time she could.
After my parents left, I considered leaving the city and relocate to another place. However, Kajal was extremely hysterical at this decision and tried very hard to persuade me to stay. She knew how Gabi’s death affected me, so she took it upon herself to help me cross over the grief. She almost camped at my house. I am sure that her husband also knew about the nature of our relationship, but we never heard any complaints from him. She looked after me till she could and finally she herself needed to be looked after. I wanted to book a flight ticket for her, but that would have been too difficult for her. Therefore, I booked a rail ticket in an air conditioned, second class compartment for Kajal and Sunil. Coincidently, his exams were over, and it was vacation time for him, so he too could accompany his mother.
****************
Later, Kajal divorced her husband. It was a good riddance. He was a drunkard and a wife beater. In the court, he made a case of infidelity against Kajal, but there was enough evidence against him that the court allowed her to divorce him. Although, they could not ensure any alimony for her. That was never an issue: Ma and Dad wanted her to live with them. Dad’s income was more than enough to cover all their needs, which were not too big anyway. But they made her promise that she will live as a daughter of their household - that is she will live freely and happily… without feeling indebted or anything.
Kajal was delighted to live with them and take care of them. Ma and Dad were amazing people, who deserved love and loving people to surround them. Sunil started his college education while living in with Ma and Dad. He was growing up fast… and he was growing up to be a very sincere and responsible young man. He understood well the challenges that his mother had faced, and he was thankful to Dad and Ma for all the support that they had extended to him and his family. He was living a respectable life and was able to access good education all thanks for them! He wanted to make the best use of it. He worked hard at his studies and had aimed at getting in to an institution of higher education that could set him for life… so that he is able to take care of his mother and younger sister.
He was aware of his mother’s pregnancy. Kajal told him that it was the fruit of my love for her that was growing inside her. Sunil knew about the process of sex; but Kajal sensitized him about the loving, humane side of sex rather than the animalistic side. Anyone can have sex, but it should be done for the right reasons. Reasons such as love. It made sense to him. He had seen Gabi and me, and Kajal and Me making love, and was aware of the active love life of Ma and Dad. He was aware that all of us were very loving in our relationships with each other. So, it made sense to him that to have a gratifying sexual relationship, one must have true love… and time for that would come later. For now, he must focus on the task at hand and that was to study hard!
They even discussed with her the possibility of her getting married to me.
“Kajal, beta… if you two are okay to get married to each other, we will not object. You are our daughter, and we will be happy to welcome you as our daughter in law.”
“Ma, how nice for you to say this… I am forever grateful to you. But first, please understand that I will not take advantage of your situation. Amar and all of us are in grief… getting married to me might seem like a good thing to do while we are grieving.
“Yes, this is Amar’s child, but I will not force myself on him.”
“It is not about forcing you on me.” I objected.
“Wait, please let me finish.” Kajal interjected, “Ma… Pita ji, he is still very young… and in no way I want him to raise my two children. Yes, Sunil looks at you as his father figure, but that will still remain the case even if you do not marry me.”
“But Beta, what will your husband say?”
“He suspects that this is not his child. We have not… you know… not had any…” Kajal trailed but all of us understood.
“But that is so dangerous for you!”
“I will divorce him Ma. I can not live with him.”
“Kajal… meri bachchi, tu apne husband ke sath agar khush nahi hai to chhod de usko (Kajal, my daughter, if you are not happy with your husband, then please leave him). Pati agar prem kare tabhi wo Parmeshwar hota hai (A husband is a wife's God only so long as he loves her). Maar-peet karne wala pati pati nahi hota (One who beats his wife is no God). Tu hamaare sath reh (You can stay with us)."
Kajal thanked Ma and Dad for their offer, for which she was rebuked. Dad told her that she is his daughter. And it is her right to come and live with them. And it is their right to protect their daughter.
Ma and Dad were disappointed that Kajal did not want me to give the child my name. But when Kajal argued with them with facts, they agreed that she was not the most suitable person for me to get married to. But they wanted to do something for the child, so they set up a generous insurance for the unborn baby, so that it does not face any challenges for education and marriage. They also requested Kajal to just look after me till the time she could.
After my parents left, I considered leaving the city and relocate to another place. However, Kajal was extremely hysterical at this decision and tried very hard to persuade me to stay. She knew how Gabi’s death affected me, so she took it upon herself to help me cross over the grief. She almost camped at my house. I am sure that her husband also knew about the nature of our relationship, but we never heard any complaints from him. She looked after me till she could and finally she herself needed to be looked after. I wanted to book a flight ticket for her, but that would have been too difficult for her. Therefore, I booked a rail ticket in an air conditioned, second class compartment for Kajal and Sunil. Coincidently, his exams were over, and it was vacation time for him, so he too could accompany his mother.
****************
Later, Kajal divorced her husband. It was a good riddance. He was a drunkard and a wife beater. In the court, he made a case of infidelity against Kajal, but there was enough evidence against him that the court allowed her to divorce him. Although, they could not ensure any alimony for her. That was never an issue: Ma and Dad wanted her to live with them. Dad’s income was more than enough to cover all their needs, which were not too big anyway. But they made her promise that she will live as a daughter of their household - that is she will live freely and happily… without feeling indebted or anything.
Kajal was delighted to live with them and take care of them. Ma and Dad were amazing people, who deserved love and loving people to surround them. Sunil started his college education while living in with Ma and Dad. He was growing up fast… and he was growing up to be a very sincere and responsible young man. He understood well the challenges that his mother had faced, and he was thankful to Dad and Ma for all the support that they had extended to him and his family. He was living a respectable life and was able to access good education all thanks for them! He wanted to make the best use of it. He worked hard at his studies and had aimed at getting in to an institution of higher education that could set him for life… so that he is able to take care of his mother and younger sister.
He was aware of his mother’s pregnancy. Kajal told him that it was the fruit of my love for her that was growing inside her. Sunil knew about the process of sex; but Kajal sensitized him about the loving, humane side of sex rather than the animalistic side. Anyone can have sex, but it should be done for the right reasons. Reasons such as love. It made sense to him. He had seen Gabi and me, and Kajal and Me making love, and was aware of the active love life of Ma and Dad. He was aware that all of us were very loving in our relationships with each other. So, it made sense to him that to have a gratifying sexual relationship, one must have true love… and time for that would come later. For now, he must focus on the task at hand and that was to study hard!
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I contacted Gabi’s family - they deserved to know and have a closure, despite whatever their view about our marriage had been. They deserved to know what happened to their daughter. I placed a call, which her obnoxious mother picked. I noticed that she was not at her usual obnoxious self. She had gone a bit mild in her mannerisms.
However, when I told her about Gabi’s demise, she broke down. I had to talk to her father and brother. I told them about the accident, about the pregnancy, and how I lost everything. I also told them that I was planning to send them Gabi’s insurance money. It was close to fifty thousand Brazilian Reals (fifteen lakh Indian rupees in those days). It was good money and could have helped them. However, I was surprised when her mother calmly declined the money and asked my forgiveness for her earlier rude behavior. She also thanked me for taking care of Gabi and marrying her. She then told me that if God allowed, she would love to meet me in person someday. She also asked me to overcome my grief and get married again. She said that if I did that, it would be a kind of redemption for her.
**************
After Kajal left to deliver our baby, I switched job and because of it, the city as well. The pitying faces of my colleagues reminded me of their guilty concern for me. The new job was nice; I received a hefty pay hike and a better role. My parents wanted to come and stay with me, but I refused. I did not want to disrupt their routines and job. Dad still had about fifteen years of service left, so it was silly to make him sit at home during his most productive professional life. The new job allowed me to shift my focus from my grief. I worked very hard, and within a couple of months’ time, I became a valuable member of the team. I got immersed in my work and quickly became well known in the important circles in the office.
With no one to look after me, I started to spend a lot of time in office itself. I started to use my house only for sleeping. I was still not able to comprehend my loss of Gabi. But after a very close friend suggested me to see a psychiatrist for a professional help, I started to see a good psychiatrist, which started to help. I soon started to mend my ways.
It was a routine for Kajal to check on me, and I on her at least once per week. When the time for her delivery came, I called - she told me that I had just become a father. I was now a father of a cutest baby girl! I was happy and was sad. I wanted to come over. But she stopped me; if her husband had not come, then what was I doing there? How will she answer such questions? She promised that in a few months, she would come back to me and show me my child. All I could do was to wait. She also asked about the progress that I made in search of love. I told her to shut up.
About a couple of months later Dad called me telling me that my baby girl died of encephalitis. Because in Kajal's village the medical facilities were not good enough, they could not save her.
I was pissed.
I was disappointed.
But Dad told me to suck it up and consoled me. He gave me a perspective that Kajal too lost her daughter - the symbol of our love! Dad's perspective made sense.
Then he told me that he was going to bring Kajal home. I thought it was a good thing.
However, when I told her about Gabi’s demise, she broke down. I had to talk to her father and brother. I told them about the accident, about the pregnancy, and how I lost everything. I also told them that I was planning to send them Gabi’s insurance money. It was close to fifty thousand Brazilian Reals (fifteen lakh Indian rupees in those days). It was good money and could have helped them. However, I was surprised when her mother calmly declined the money and asked my forgiveness for her earlier rude behavior. She also thanked me for taking care of Gabi and marrying her. She then told me that if God allowed, she would love to meet me in person someday. She also asked me to overcome my grief and get married again. She said that if I did that, it would be a kind of redemption for her.
**************
After Kajal left to deliver our baby, I switched job and because of it, the city as well. The pitying faces of my colleagues reminded me of their guilty concern for me. The new job was nice; I received a hefty pay hike and a better role. My parents wanted to come and stay with me, but I refused. I did not want to disrupt their routines and job. Dad still had about fifteen years of service left, so it was silly to make him sit at home during his most productive professional life. The new job allowed me to shift my focus from my grief. I worked very hard, and within a couple of months’ time, I became a valuable member of the team. I got immersed in my work and quickly became well known in the important circles in the office.
With no one to look after me, I started to spend a lot of time in office itself. I started to use my house only for sleeping. I was still not able to comprehend my loss of Gabi. But after a very close friend suggested me to see a psychiatrist for a professional help, I started to see a good psychiatrist, which started to help. I soon started to mend my ways.
It was a routine for Kajal to check on me, and I on her at least once per week. When the time for her delivery came, I called - she told me that I had just become a father. I was now a father of a cutest baby girl! I was happy and was sad. I wanted to come over. But she stopped me; if her husband had not come, then what was I doing there? How will she answer such questions? She promised that in a few months, she would come back to me and show me my child. All I could do was to wait. She also asked about the progress that I made in search of love. I told her to shut up.
About a couple of months later Dad called me telling me that my baby girl died of encephalitis. Because in Kajal's village the medical facilities were not good enough, they could not save her.
I was pissed.
I was disappointed.
But Dad told me to suck it up and consoled me. He gave me a perspective that Kajal too lost her daughter - the symbol of our love! Dad's perspective made sense.
Then he told me that he was going to bring Kajal home. I thought it was a good thing.
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Almost one year had passed since Gabi left me for the heavenly abode.
I was now comfortable in the new job. In fact, I even had a promotion. This was something which was unheard of. The probation period itself was six months long and getting a promotion in the next six months was an amazing achievement. Company recognized me as a fast-track candidate, which augured well for my career. Sometimes, I wondered how happy Gabi would have been to see me progress like this. But then on other times I thought that I would not have joined this job in the first place, because I would have rather spend my time with Gabi than spending it on office work.
Around this time, I got introduced to a girl, named Devyani through common office-friends.
Devyani was seven years my senior at work and was about nine years older than me. She worked in the human resources department of the company. I used to work in a different department, and my office was in a different building. Devyani sometimes dropped by my office for her work, and that is how I came to first meet her. Obviously, during the initial days, we only talked about official work. Finding a new girlfriend was neither in my mind, nor it was priority for me. I preferred to remain consumed with work and that is exactly what I did. However, when you start to interact more and more with the same person, chemistry takes over and everything starts to change. I would also confess that however much I deny, I needed some emotional support and stability in my life.
Devyani was an attractive and confident, young Punjabi woman. Still, I could sense her vulnerabilities. She used to dress smartly in both Indian and western outfits. She has a nice pair of full breasts, and their shape showed nicely from her clothes; in fact, her breasts were probably the first thing that people must have noticed in her. They were not huge… not even big. But somehow, on her figure, they showed more prominently. Thus, apart from her beautiful face, her breasts were her defining characteristic.
Our initial impressions (on personal level) of each other were not great. She thought that I was just too brash, and I thought that she was too bossy. Of course, I was bitter about everything at that period in my life. I alluded everything bad to my rotten luck… or sometimes to other people. That attitude is never helpful. Devyani on the other hand tried to weigh in on everything that was discussed. I felt that she had this irresistible urge to be taken seriously by others. What was her story, I was not sure… and I did not care.
Once, during a Friday, a couple of our mutual friends, Devyani and I decided to have dinner after office hours. In the restaurant, Devyani, as her style was, started to read out her order in English, oblivious of the fact that the waiter could not understand a single word that she said. However, I noticed it. Finally, that poor chap went away.
I said to her, "You will see that he would be back with someone else."
"Why?"
"Because he did not understand a single thing… You can’t use English everywhere. Sometimes it is okay to speak in Hindi…" I joked with a wink.
Devyani, in her usual bossy manner, was ready to wager that I was wrong. However, soon enough, as I predicted, the same waiter came back with another one for the order. My friends and I laughed heartily at her expense. But that one incident changed her opinion about me. She knew that I could see through things about her that she could not. In her mind that was my distinct quality that was higher than her. This was that little vulnerability I was talking about earlier. Her bossy mannerisms were a reflex reaction of her good looks. She thought people discounted her abilities because she looked good. Once she told me that she was more than just a pair of breasts. I agreed and assured her that at least I had great respect for her as a working professional and her abilities.
Despite this, she always had mixed feelings about me. On one hand she enjoyed my company. I was coming out my shell: my therapy was working and proving to be effective, and I was going back to my usual jolly self. Once I unarmed her strict boss with my funny wits in front of her and he went out laughing. That was one of the rare moments when he laughed. Of course, people in her office noticed me. On the other hand, she was becoming aware that people had started to notice me with her. Few ladies in her office started to talk among themselves that we were an item. She really did not think that it would be a good rumor. The first reason was our age gap, and the second reason was our professional gap. She was at a senior position, and she was worried about that. I was unconcerned about all that because for me she was just a good friend at that juncture. Once both of us had dropped our façade, we found it easy to talk with each other. I started to enjoy her company, and soon we started to talk about personal things with each other.
My playful assurances and suggestions in several of her personal and professional challenges helped her immensely and she, finally, started liking me. I also had moved ahead from a formal Devyani to a friendlier and informal Devy (not Devi, and the D must be pronounced as it is pronounced in David). We always enjoyed our conversations over the phone and in-person and soon advanced to talking about more personal and more intimate stuff. Soon, Devy and I went out for an evening get-together and this time to a famous coffee house chain. This was a newly opened store and was not very popular with the crowd. Therefore, it offered some relaxed time to the patrons. So, we could talk more about our lives, value-system, and other personal stuff.
That evening Devy and I discussed at length about our lives. Among other things, I told her about my life with Gabi, whereas she told me about her past relationships and the challenges to her marriage. She told me that because she had already crossed the psychological barrier of 30 years, she was no longer considered ‘suitable’ for marriage. She also told me about one of her past failed relationship. I told her about my story with Gabi, how we started, how we were together, and how it ended.
She asked me whether I was ready for another relationship. I told her I was not yet sure, to which she replied that I should be open, as I was very young. Not many men even get in to a relationship by the time they are my age. So, I must give love another chance. When I asked her about her desire for a relationship, she told me that she was not particularly excited about that prospect. But if someone exciting comes along, she will welcome him in her life.
I was now comfortable in the new job. In fact, I even had a promotion. This was something which was unheard of. The probation period itself was six months long and getting a promotion in the next six months was an amazing achievement. Company recognized me as a fast-track candidate, which augured well for my career. Sometimes, I wondered how happy Gabi would have been to see me progress like this. But then on other times I thought that I would not have joined this job in the first place, because I would have rather spend my time with Gabi than spending it on office work.
Around this time, I got introduced to a girl, named Devyani through common office-friends.
Devyani was seven years my senior at work and was about nine years older than me. She worked in the human resources department of the company. I used to work in a different department, and my office was in a different building. Devyani sometimes dropped by my office for her work, and that is how I came to first meet her. Obviously, during the initial days, we only talked about official work. Finding a new girlfriend was neither in my mind, nor it was priority for me. I preferred to remain consumed with work and that is exactly what I did. However, when you start to interact more and more with the same person, chemistry takes over and everything starts to change. I would also confess that however much I deny, I needed some emotional support and stability in my life.
Devyani was an attractive and confident, young Punjabi woman. Still, I could sense her vulnerabilities. She used to dress smartly in both Indian and western outfits. She has a nice pair of full breasts, and their shape showed nicely from her clothes; in fact, her breasts were probably the first thing that people must have noticed in her. They were not huge… not even big. But somehow, on her figure, they showed more prominently. Thus, apart from her beautiful face, her breasts were her defining characteristic.
Our initial impressions (on personal level) of each other were not great. She thought that I was just too brash, and I thought that she was too bossy. Of course, I was bitter about everything at that period in my life. I alluded everything bad to my rotten luck… or sometimes to other people. That attitude is never helpful. Devyani on the other hand tried to weigh in on everything that was discussed. I felt that she had this irresistible urge to be taken seriously by others. What was her story, I was not sure… and I did not care.
Once, during a Friday, a couple of our mutual friends, Devyani and I decided to have dinner after office hours. In the restaurant, Devyani, as her style was, started to read out her order in English, oblivious of the fact that the waiter could not understand a single word that she said. However, I noticed it. Finally, that poor chap went away.
I said to her, "You will see that he would be back with someone else."
"Why?"
"Because he did not understand a single thing… You can’t use English everywhere. Sometimes it is okay to speak in Hindi…" I joked with a wink.
Devyani, in her usual bossy manner, was ready to wager that I was wrong. However, soon enough, as I predicted, the same waiter came back with another one for the order. My friends and I laughed heartily at her expense. But that one incident changed her opinion about me. She knew that I could see through things about her that she could not. In her mind that was my distinct quality that was higher than her. This was that little vulnerability I was talking about earlier. Her bossy mannerisms were a reflex reaction of her good looks. She thought people discounted her abilities because she looked good. Once she told me that she was more than just a pair of breasts. I agreed and assured her that at least I had great respect for her as a working professional and her abilities.
Despite this, she always had mixed feelings about me. On one hand she enjoyed my company. I was coming out my shell: my therapy was working and proving to be effective, and I was going back to my usual jolly self. Once I unarmed her strict boss with my funny wits in front of her and he went out laughing. That was one of the rare moments when he laughed. Of course, people in her office noticed me. On the other hand, she was becoming aware that people had started to notice me with her. Few ladies in her office started to talk among themselves that we were an item. She really did not think that it would be a good rumor. The first reason was our age gap, and the second reason was our professional gap. She was at a senior position, and she was worried about that. I was unconcerned about all that because for me she was just a good friend at that juncture. Once both of us had dropped our façade, we found it easy to talk with each other. I started to enjoy her company, and soon we started to talk about personal things with each other.
My playful assurances and suggestions in several of her personal and professional challenges helped her immensely and she, finally, started liking me. I also had moved ahead from a formal Devyani to a friendlier and informal Devy (not Devi, and the D must be pronounced as it is pronounced in David). We always enjoyed our conversations over the phone and in-person and soon advanced to talking about more personal and more intimate stuff. Soon, Devy and I went out for an evening get-together and this time to a famous coffee house chain. This was a newly opened store and was not very popular with the crowd. Therefore, it offered some relaxed time to the patrons. So, we could talk more about our lives, value-system, and other personal stuff.
That evening Devy and I discussed at length about our lives. Among other things, I told her about my life with Gabi, whereas she told me about her past relationships and the challenges to her marriage. She told me that because she had already crossed the psychological barrier of 30 years, she was no longer considered ‘suitable’ for marriage. She also told me about one of her past failed relationship. I told her about my story with Gabi, how we started, how we were together, and how it ended.
She asked me whether I was ready for another relationship. I told her I was not yet sure, to which she replied that I should be open, as I was very young. Not many men even get in to a relationship by the time they are my age. So, I must give love another chance. When I asked her about her desire for a relationship, she told me that she was not particularly excited about that prospect. But if someone exciting comes along, she will welcome him in her life.
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As the logical next step to our coffee evening, I asked her out for dinner. She agreed, and we decided on a date and time; but unfortunately, she was caught in a late-nighter at office. I thought that she was making an excuse and that she wanted to avoid meeting with me like this. When I broached my suspicion the next day, she confirmed by saying that although she enjoyed my company, she sometimes felt naked when I looked at her in a certain way. She was referring to my more direct eye-to-eye contacts. I assured her that all I wanted to do was to know her better; if things progress properly, then I would like to see her in the way lovers do. So, if it has to be her being naked, so be it! She was surprised when I said it but loved and appreciated my honesty.
After a few days, I again asked her out for dinner. This time she said that she would come only if I allow her to split the expenses. I said it was perfectly fine with me, just to let the plan roll. I am not touchy about the issue of men picking up women’s tabs. She was eight years older than me, so, I was sure that she earned more than what I did (although it was not the case, as I came to know later). The date was fixed. But again, she was caught in a late-nighter.
Was she pretending? Was she again making an excuse?
I was not sure, so I decided to wait for her in the office. I was determined to take her out for a dinner that night. When she noticed that there won’t be an escape, she came out apologizing for her behavior. I asked her to take it easy, and we then proceeded to a dhaba (roadside, small, Punjabi-styled restaurant) on her suggestion (rather insistence), claiming that it served great food.
I agreed to take her to the dhaba (not my preferred place to take a girl for a first date). I found that the food there was great! The food was freshly cooked, and it offered a lot of privacy too. We sat on a chaarpai cot with our legs crossed, as the food plates were arranged between us. It was an informal setup, and we enjoyed it that way because both of us were simple, uncomplicated people. While eating, I occasionally touched her hands and her knees. Once I held her fingers for more than a minute, which seemed like an achievement. Initially she really seemed tensed, but as the night progressed, she relaxed in my company.
When we finished the dinner and left the dhaba, I finally asked her to allow me in her life. I assured her that I was not some asshole trying only to get into her pants and that she could trust me. She told me that she liked me but was very uncertain about the future of this relationship, as I was nine years her junior. She also told me that she had a couple of failed relationships in the past, and that was why she did not trust men.
It was great to know that she was considering a serious relationship with me and I liked the idea. My parents would not have any problem, I was sure about it. So, I could almost bet on their support and blessings, had I wished to marry Devyani. They wanted me to find love again. They too were extremely pained at Gabi’s passing and wanted me to come out of that hole soon. So, all was great at my home. But I had no clue about what the case at her home would be. From whatever I gathered, her family was very traditional and orthodox, where love affairs were discouraged. Also, I had married once and was nine years younger to her. So many things were against me. Still all that did not seem important or difficult to me. If Devy stood beside me, these things did not matter.
After the dinner date, I quickly made my next move.
The very next day (on a weekend) I asked her out for a movie date. There was this very romantic film playing in the theaters, and I wanted to watch it with Devy. I had to coax her hard to agree to watch that film with me. I went to this extent to say that I can go to her home and ask her out. She freaked out at this suggestion and gave in. So, finally we had a movie date together. It was a weekend, and she was very nervous about being seen by office people. I assured her that it was not such a bad thing. A few close friends from office really expected us to be together. Also, it would only increase our stature in people’s eyes - being committed is a good thing socially. But she was very cautious and was still not ready to come out in the open about me. She intentionally chose matinee time, so that she does not have to explain much at home, and also so that we don’t meet anyone we knew!
After a few days, I again asked her out for dinner. This time she said that she would come only if I allow her to split the expenses. I said it was perfectly fine with me, just to let the plan roll. I am not touchy about the issue of men picking up women’s tabs. She was eight years older than me, so, I was sure that she earned more than what I did (although it was not the case, as I came to know later). The date was fixed. But again, she was caught in a late-nighter.
Was she pretending? Was she again making an excuse?
I was not sure, so I decided to wait for her in the office. I was determined to take her out for a dinner that night. When she noticed that there won’t be an escape, she came out apologizing for her behavior. I asked her to take it easy, and we then proceeded to a dhaba (roadside, small, Punjabi-styled restaurant) on her suggestion (rather insistence), claiming that it served great food.
I agreed to take her to the dhaba (not my preferred place to take a girl for a first date). I found that the food there was great! The food was freshly cooked, and it offered a lot of privacy too. We sat on a chaarpai cot with our legs crossed, as the food plates were arranged between us. It was an informal setup, and we enjoyed it that way because both of us were simple, uncomplicated people. While eating, I occasionally touched her hands and her knees. Once I held her fingers for more than a minute, which seemed like an achievement. Initially she really seemed tensed, but as the night progressed, she relaxed in my company.
When we finished the dinner and left the dhaba, I finally asked her to allow me in her life. I assured her that I was not some asshole trying only to get into her pants and that she could trust me. She told me that she liked me but was very uncertain about the future of this relationship, as I was nine years her junior. She also told me that she had a couple of failed relationships in the past, and that was why she did not trust men.
It was great to know that she was considering a serious relationship with me and I liked the idea. My parents would not have any problem, I was sure about it. So, I could almost bet on their support and blessings, had I wished to marry Devyani. They wanted me to find love again. They too were extremely pained at Gabi’s passing and wanted me to come out of that hole soon. So, all was great at my home. But I had no clue about what the case at her home would be. From whatever I gathered, her family was very traditional and orthodox, where love affairs were discouraged. Also, I had married once and was nine years younger to her. So many things were against me. Still all that did not seem important or difficult to me. If Devy stood beside me, these things did not matter.
After the dinner date, I quickly made my next move.
The very next day (on a weekend) I asked her out for a movie date. There was this very romantic film playing in the theaters, and I wanted to watch it with Devy. I had to coax her hard to agree to watch that film with me. I went to this extent to say that I can go to her home and ask her out. She freaked out at this suggestion and gave in. So, finally we had a movie date together. It was a weekend, and she was very nervous about being seen by office people. I assured her that it was not such a bad thing. A few close friends from office really expected us to be together. Also, it would only increase our stature in people’s eyes - being committed is a good thing socially. But she was very cautious and was still not ready to come out in the open about me. She intentionally chose matinee time, so that she does not have to explain much at home, and also so that we don’t meet anyone we knew!
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