A Jackfruit in Heaven - Part - [2] Love is Winking

A political leader from the ruling party was killed on our street to the result of a dispute about a merchant's beautiful daughter. The reason was the leader's son abducted and sexually abused her. I was walking through the market where the smell of the riot is remaining the air, with panic footsteps. I felt a little uneasy when the sweat was flowing through my fist that held my store key.

The forty-eight-hour lockdown is being totally succeeded that made invisible handcuffs on people's hands. They were imprisoned in their own houses.

There can clearly hear the clock's long bell sounds and the old cough from some houses in the street like the lament of the people who wait for exile. That given an ancient feature to the street. Now it is ten o'clock. The pigeons and street birds that were built the nest on the pinnacles of the houses they are eating scattered rice and wheat grains in front of the food godown.

This is our street named Moghal Puram. Here, we have been living forward with tiny happiness and anxiety through the cocktail of mixed culture.

When I stepped over to the next street, I saw, a blurred human form appearing to the end of the street and suddenly that was disappearing into the main street. I slowed my walk and a little fear sprouted in my mind. Is it my delusion? I looked at backward with fear for knowing was I am dreaming. No, no, this is real. Homeo, Ayurveda, Unani, Astrology, and palm reading, all fraud treatments, clinics, and showrooms have remained there. This is not Chennai streets, but these are like Chennai streets.

Though I thought to follow him, I gave up my mad decision. But I kept walking through among the houses where the windows closed, and among through the little courtyards where the purdaha and niqabs were hanging to drying. The wet Pardah's edges were lying with touched to the ground like head bowed culprits in front of the executioner. Maybe, in our street, having the women who avoided the purdah could be only in our home. For that, they owe to my grandfather Muhamed Khan Saahib who the first atheist in our street. When I reached the open place that the street has ended, I knew this area, which is Selvi Akka's house and premises. I walked with caution through the place carefully avoided the water-filled potholes in the rain for the last day.

Today is two years over from missing my cousin Mansoor. I'm afraid he will be trapped between the religious propagandists or criminals who wandering with a desire of making a communal riot in our country.

Whenever I discuss Mansoor in our dining table, but, Mathu, she chews and spits away my words about him like fish thorns. Sometimes, Mathu doing this as more practical than my sister. I don't know how it came to this behavior in Mathu who is an intelligent woman. Actually her intelligence and compassion to others were that made me close to her. But Mathu still doesn't know about the deep relationship between Kaiju, Mansoor and me.

We were together in the morning walk, and we found the time to getting together in the dining table as possible. We didn't insist on her the first week of every month to come walking with us, but instead of we were giving fiction books for her from our street library.

Akram, it is not fair, always your all family members are should keep their manners very well and they owe to keep the dignity of Khan Saahib Mansion, all this what you command that of them is very injustice. Akram, can you point out anyone who has any specialty from your Khan Sahib Mansion? Somehow, a Kaiju and Akram happened in your family in the turns of the time cycle. That's not a great thing. As it happened in any other family, that happened too in Khan Mansion, that's all.

She would always use this way to stop my arguments. After that, she would have winked and smiled. I didn't understand what her smile meant. But, once a night, I asked her, what was the meaning of her pleasure that created together by her eye and lips?

Oh! Nothing, I was just trying to provoke you.

Look, Akram, If you want to provoke an arrogant man, you just ask a bad question about the glory of his family is enough.

Mathu, Where did you obtain this information?

Oh, that I recognized from the quarrel in between my parents. But I never have seen my father beating my mother, they would often quarrel with each other, but that day night, I could hear their pleasure conversations from their's room.

Isn't that a bad habit to overhear their conversation?

Yes, I know, but I was anxious about their quarrels. Look, Akram, I am a typical Indian girl so I always anxiety about their healthy relationship. I need, I need a harmony that will flourish in every moment of their's life. So, I had been overhearing to their's bedroom. But, I am the girl trying to drop off all the nasty activities of the typical Indian girl, so I have given up so many things like that after start our married life. For that, you have helped me as my naughty life partner. You have taught me, how to kiss gently.

I noticed a mischief laugh in her lips when she talks to me with coiled me by her hand on my waist. Look, Akram, please come with me in front of the mirror and stay for a few minutes.

Mathu, why all women want to stand in front of the mirror with their's favorite person, I asked her when I kissing her backside of the ear.

Oh, that gives us a more creative and poetic mood for our sex. That brings in our sex more pleasurable. Otherwise, that will always become a futile work.

Akram, please don't go, please hug me and stand with me a little more time, she held me more tightened firmly when I trying to return from in front of the mirror. Look, Akram, we can create through this way more pleasure in our bed instead of boring nights that our relatives creating in their's married life. Look, the nudity is pure than any other heaven and holy water. The better nudity is the streams of possibilities. They are places of study for self-awareness. She was making murmured, murmured, like a little brook, then bite gently in my ear. When her warm breath spread my backside I felt like I sink myself into the bathtub that filled with warm water.

Akram, have you ever stood in front of the mirror with any woman?

Yes, with my girlfriend Sajeena who was once my playmate. Yes, only once, after she got the divorce with her husband.

Akram, Now, where is she?

I don't know.

It is not a matter to me about your relationship before your marriage, but I believe you are not a liar.

Then why are you now inquiring about her?

Nothing, just for curiosity. Akram, don't make fun of me for thinking I am like a typical Indian girl.

Why, Mathu, always you are saying like this?

Oh, nothing, just for my comfort.

Akram, now, if you are saying about her, I am ready to hear.

But Mathu, I know, as far as we the common people, all of our experiences just only stories. Because they are unwritten there has a possibility to interpret in many ways according to others' wishes. Only after I met Radhika, I understand the ambitions of Sajeena's as a woman. Who a strong personality, I can't say that, but I can tell you who is a more self-confident person.

Sometimes, we can weave a story using the thread of lies, but, as for us always we should be giving a priority to the stories according to the quantity of loss. We are always searching for the gossips of celebrities instead of knowing the tears and emotions of the failed common man. We always have an urge to enquire about the color and design of the panties and dresses that the celebrities are wear. A successful person becoming a historical man, a failed person becoming a storyteller or a protagonist of his own stories.

Now, Mathu's fingers are wrapping me up more. Mathu, I murmured myself. Because those are not myths, once I will tell you all those stories.

Mathu, that has needed a new language and interpretation, but now if I say the story, that will be created only as a male version. So I am waiting for a spontaneous woman's language. Mathu, don't you know as a woman? the natural way of women's conversation. They don't know, how to manipulate mechanically their feeling, so they reveal their feelings naturally. Mathu, that's why now so you are leading to me in front of the mirror by your pure inspiration as them.

Now, her hands are within my hand. She raised her face when I had kissed her cheek. Then she slowly started to murmuring when I had kissed once more. The small ripples of her sounds can be more softening my inner lotus petals. Here, the two nude bodies have been warming and being tie up to each other like lotus stalk. Now, her voice seems to be trembling. She murmured again with entwined around me by hands, Akram, please be to keep your language more understandable level for telling the story, because I have to maintain simultaneously the rhythm of my orgasm and the sweetness of your story. When the sweat began to flow from both nudities.

A cool wind came from somewhere and passed through the eastern verandah.

I couldn't hear the story that you said and completed when during our sex.

Mathu, but I wasn't told you the story, but that time I could converse with them for some minutes. That's very dangerous and will create more difficulties during the moments of our intercourse. So, allow me to pour my full concentration during the time of our heavenly moments. You should find any other time for hearing for the stories, that may be more convenient.

Did Kaiju know these stories?

No, but she had forced me many times to tell that stories, but I didn't have told her all stories that happened in my life. Sometimes She may have heard from my mother some nutshells of those stories.

Maybe that's why she asked me about those stories. But a real-life is not like that the life with superstitions that wrote in the holy books

[ To be continued. ... ]