MY LOVER

A Story by JENY

The story attempt to explore a love affair and tries to communicate it to a man of different culture altogether

My Lover

My dear American friend, I should tell this to you. You will be astonished by the way love works in Indian minds. You will be amused to see that Indian love affairs seem to play a predetermined role. You can not find much differences in the circumstances in which various affairs sprout grow, and ends up in final success or failure.

But this one is different. It is different not because I am the protagonist of this affair. I do not rule out the tendency of self civilized man to conclude the events especially mishaps as unique, when he or she is at the center. He distinguishes himself from others in terms of incident. But my friend it is not so in my case…you read on…

I felt that I must share my dilemma with some one, when he, my lover started blackmailing me. After a break up with him, I was alone. You might be asking in your mind what the cause of break was up. Simple. He wanted to share his bed with me. For once.

My dear American friend, sharing bed, with a male before marriages taboo in India.. Yet sharing your bed with a married man is considered as a crime. My sweetheart is a married man. As you know, I am unmarried.

It was not difficult for me to break social norms. I hadn’t any fear of being caught and questioned. But however I tried I couldn’t break the values to which I have consecrated my birth and my life. There might pop up another question in your mind, what are those values I have sworn in to. It my decision to be an ascetic. By choice I have determined to be single and devout my life for the betterment of society. In India there are many sects who commit themselves to life long SANYASA

Then I fell in love with this man? Our first dating, I would like to address it as accidental dating and it was through mobile phone. We got aquatinted over a road accident, in which my four wheeler bumped into his two wheeler and caused a fracture on his right arm.

Firs thing he told me was, that I am extremely beautiful. And second thing he is supposed to say was “I love you”. But instead, he told me that he will give anything in life he has, for my womb. He said he needed a child of his own. If I do not want any sort of sexual contact, he said he is ready for an artificial insemination.

Whenever he called, he repeated this request. The more he requested, the more anxious I was to attend his calls. Because each time he made this request, I saw the female in me galloping as never before. His request sculpted out the female in me. A female with colorful hopes and desires for a full life. And, with my permission, she moved towards him and she kept on saying, “I love you”.

Once in the car, I kissed him. I would not say he kissed me.

As the month’s and years went by, I knew his interest in me transcended his need for a child. Of course I enjoyed it. But my body began to react. I saw it longed for his warmth his nakedness. I saw, I will have to break my life long commitment or die in the fire of unfulfilled desires and passions. I didn’t wish to make my life a chaos. I decided to retreat.

All through our courtship, he used to remind me, “Never give your mind a hope, I can never marry you”.

A temporary visit into the world of love between opposite sexes though shrouded in uncertainty , was a pleasant feeling that fed my emotional life, nourished it, imparted it a meaning. But as I said before, I decided to retreat for the sake of my vows and my life.

I tried my best to convince him. But the male in him had reached a panic state in his attempt to find a meaning to his birth as a man. The prospect of child that gave way to prospect of love was so emotionally charged that he began to feel totally at lost.

I saw him demanding, suspicious, and all the more restless, and insecure. Though his state of mind was very transparent to my perception, I was adamant and almost could come out of story as I regained my emotional balance. But he mistook my level headedness and emotional resilience as deception. He interpreted my attempt to walk back as proof for his conclusion that I was making fun of him, cheating.

My silence mounted to an unbearable level for him. My mobile flooded with unattended calls from hi number. And he saw, that I was going on with life, unperturbed. Then he started blackmailing me.

He set out to tarnish my image wherever he felt that it, my image, was immaculate. . He used my messages e-mails and my photo in his mobile to crush the white washed façade I had in society.

First he tried it in my working place with my boss, second in my diocese. Madly he attacked me from all fronts. Finally he set foot on the most precious and delicate, yet strong area of my relationships.

He entered into the circle of friends of my father. There existed a special relationship between me and my father. He was the chairman of the financial firm. He respected me for what I am. He had confidence in my decision to be single without violating the moral values and social norms. It was from his reticent confidence in me that I often drew inspiration for sticking to my decision. It boosted my confidence in myself.

It was the day before New Year. Father was too late and my lover was with him. Gloom on the face of father was enough for me to read everything and I stood between the guest "my father’s friend, my lover- and my father with a prepared mind.

“Do you know him?” father asked.

“Yes….”

My lover sat, licking on his wounds expecting that he can heal them by disrupting my relationship, thereby plundering me of my emotional support and deserting me in a graveyard of terrible loneliness.

“I never knew you have a desire to live with a male. Why did you deceive yourself? For what? For whom?” Father continued..

“did you love this man?” Father asked.

A “no” will be an absurd answer as my E-mails have revealed my passions in the secret corners of my mind for the male in him.

“Why are you silent?’ father repeated

“It is a shame to have a double personality….”

I could feel the eyes of my lover trying to peruse my feelings. He wanted to se my collapsed mind, lying on the floor bleeding of ignominy, utter loss.

“It is really disgusting….”father said painfully.

Seeing the tears clouding my vision father got up and paced towards me and stood near me.

“Daughter, your life is your property. Not mine. But I do not want to see it ending up like a dud.” He seemed groping for words, to express his pain.

I collected myself and said “Father, I loved this man. That is true…..”

My lover on hearing this tilted his face, and a smile smeared with derision dawned from the corner of his lips and spread all over his face.

“But this man” I continued..”this man does not know , I love him up to this moment. I want to kiss him, embrace him, share my bed with him, give birth to his children, to be his faithful wife and be with him till the end of my life. Is he ready ready..?

You ask him…”

Not waiting for a response, I dashed towards staircase and went upstairs, closed the doors of my room.

After a couple of hours there was a knock on the door. It was he my lover. There was a letter in his hand. He extended it towards me.

“It is from your father….” He said.

I took it from his hands, opened it. The letter said.

“Daughter, take this man with my permission, out of wedlock. He needs you…and you can never say that you do not need him. Spend time with him. Accept yourself.”

My dear American friend, however you try, you can never imagine the state of mind I was in at that moment. Perhaps a n Indian can visualize it in his mind. It is due to the impact of cultural differences in our way of perceiving situations. Even words can’t transcend this barrier.

Holding the letter in hand, I stood there, panting. He stood outside the room, a few steps away from the door. I could have closed the door. But I didn’t.

After a while, he stepped into the room, called my name.. And female in me bounced up in its full bloom, paced, with my full permission towards him. For a second time I kissed him (first time it was in the car) .And for the first time he embraced me and there were tears in his eyes which I licked greedily with my tongue.