Glaring Shadow - A stream of consciousness novel by BS Murthy (read full novel txt) 📖

it was my principle not to buy sex with the paternal bucks that distanced me from her sensuous embrace. But in hindsight, I feel that it was nothing but sentimental nonsense for, all along, I wasted my dad’s money like nobody’s business; any way, my dilemma ended as I left home on a six-month assignment as a graduate trainee, and though I was a spendthrift, I had strived to save enough to savor her in a couple of flings or more. But when I returned home, I learned that she was out of bounds as she became someone’s keep; oh what a KLPD it was as they say in the North, and how the development depressed me for days on.”

“How life changeth one; the one who was averse to buying sex with his dad’s bucks came to build his business empire with his wife’s doles! Be gone all principles.”

“Why fault life for our own lack of comprehension,” he said seemingly taken back. “Try seeing it through the prism of pragmatism and you will find its fault lines blurring in your vision, any way, what about having one large for both of us.”

 

Chapter 18

Gaffes of Youth

 

“Perhaps principles are the variable features of life,” he continued reflectively as we began sipping the drink. “Back to Sumitra, as she rarely stepped out, I had no means of wooing her, but as hope didn’t desert me, it was my wont to obtain an update on her whenever I was in town. The fact that I have had a couple of women by then only increased my desire to possess her; though she continued to deny her body for all and sundry; but taking my fate into my hands, once I trespassed into her domain and found her alone with her mom. The oldie tried to pimp for her younger one, the same girl I told you about, well, she matured in the meantime; but I insisted at having none other than my old flame; maybe divining my want from a close range, she seemed to have recalled my enamor of yore; and as I reminded her about my futile courtship, her face was aglow with the joys reminiscence. When I told her that I was still burning in my ardor, she turned coy and yet demurred at my advances for she wasn’t inclined to betray the man who kept her; but with my passion gripping my soul, I told her how desperate I had been for her possession and said that her denial would be a travesty of love itself. What with our interaction enhancing my passion for her possession, possibly affected by my body language, she began to waver in her manner all the while pleading for my understanding of her position; oh how pitiable she looked in her pleading. Well, not wanting her to suffer any qualms even for love’s sake, I felt like withdrawing, but as my urge dulled my conscience, I remained adamant to have her regardless; when she softened her stance for a one-night stand; oh how I jumped for joy, but as she sought my word that I would not press for an encore, I was constrained to assure her that I wouldn’t turn up again, and then she fixed the muhurat for the tryst of my life. Whether it was the charm of my persona or the intensity of my longing for her that swayed her mind in the end I don’t know; maybe she too might’ve nursed a liking for me in the recess of her heart that came to the fore at the threshold of my fate.”

“Of all the joys of life, there’s nothing like possessing the coveted one, isn’t it?”

“Say fulfillment,” he said in apparent delight, “and it was dream come true when I took her into my arms, and it was as if we both indulged in the coitals of our lives all through that night, and each time, lying in her satiated embrace, I felt that I wouldn’t mind dropping dead in her lap. But still, I kept away from her, and a year later, as my passion for her began to sway my mind, I went to see her regardless; but sadly I was late by six months, how distressed I was on learning that she died depressed, deserted by the man she had come to repose her trust in. If only I broke my word in time, maybe, I could’ve mended her broken heart with my affectionate manoeuvres, but wouldn’t have my adoration for her acted as an antidote for her depression; well, whether I could’ve given her hope to live I would never know.’ 

“Possibly, buttressed with self-worth, distress makes way to hope; but what an irony your noble sentiment worked against a sensitive soul.”

“It was one of many in a seamless chain of my disjointed love life,” he said seemingly depressed. “When I realized that the charm of life lies in the company of women, I could visualize that the medical profession facilitated it the most, in those days at least. But as the sight of blood always made me giddy, I had to give up my idea of being a doctor, but lo, I had to endure the trauma of, not one, but two, head-on crashes on the highways, and you know how they had changed my life in turns. And ironically I had the first taste of romance in a hospital that was after having desisted from being a doctor, in spite of the romantic possibilities the medical profession held for the enterprising! As I told you, once my paternal grandfather lay paralyzed in the hospital, and by then I began to focus on the female form as my eyes came to grasp the nuances of its sexual appeals. But as my sensuality began to visualize the imagery of the erotic best in women, it was the dusky dames with accentuated curves that began swaying my head; oh how my eyes started scanning their sensuous forms for sexual programming. While I spent the days with my grandfather, the nurse on duty happened to be Deenamani, who I thought was the personification of femininity; how we used to dote upon each other even as my grandfather remained skeptical about our closeness. When it was time for him to be discharged, she was downcast at the prospect of our separation, and as if to tie our relationship beforehand, she invited me to her hostel; but sadly for both of us, I failed to oblige her as I was still a novice for an affair, and going by the saying that any fool can start an affair but it takes a wise man to get out of it, who knows, maybe I would’ve stuck to her and possibly without any regrets at that; why the sweetness of her affection and the poise of her persona, ever made me rue that missed opportunity.”

“If only the clock could be turned back at every turn in life.” 

“If it were the case, would man ever move forward in life?” he said before taking his memoir forward. “While I was single-minded in pursuing the passions of my heart, so to say, I was wont to let bygones be bygones, and all my life that helped me to pursue my attractions with gusto regardless of the debilitating heartburns. When I was laid low by my first love, I met a lovely girl, who set upon her heart on a fictional hero of the time; I told her that as men in flesh and blood bear warts and all, maybe she was distained to be a spinster, and how perplexed she looked at that. But as I began to address her innate romanticism with sher shairies, she insensibly fell in love with me, making me the object of her sensual adoration, well, but for the sectarian difference, our caste being the same, we would have become man and wife; and when she became a mother, she hoped the sectarian bar that barred our wedding wouldn’t be a hurdle for the marriage of her son and my yet-to-arrive daughter. But sadly, like my soul mate of a cousin, she too died rather very early in life.”

“Wonder whether their spouses would have nursed fond memories of these as you did?”

“Won’t the fresh nuptial require the surviving spouse to dissipate the affections of the departed soul, and sadly for the toddlers, it brings about their emotional disconnect with the deceased parent,” he said and continued with his saga of life. “While in my childhood, I was close to my paternal grandfather for his affection, in my youth, I was drawn more to my intellectually endowed maternal grandfather, who, as I told you, was reluctant to have my dad as his son-in-law; it was another matter though that he came to realize later what a capable man and devoted husband my dad was. Well as his fancied first son-in-law was found wanting in ways many, his esteem for the slighted groom only grew; he even came to depend on my father whom he began treating like a son, and my dad too started looking up to him as a father figure; what an amiable relationship they had developed and how that sustained till the very end!”

“Maybe, liking is a product of presumptions and respect an outcome of analysis; that’s why, liking wanes when perceptions are belied but respect grows when the character shows.’ 

“Good observation,” he said and continued, “Once, citing Kalidasa’s astrological averments, my maternal grandfather predicted that I would be a rich man but cautioned me not to be complacent, how I rue failing to follow his warning! Whatever, sadly, when ripe old, he broke his hip, necessitating his hospitalization; he was put in a special ward at the government hospital, now a taboo even for the lower middle classes. ‘S’ the nurse on the night duty was wont to be playful with me but being fair and plump, she failed to enter into my zone of sexual attraction; but I was taken to ‘V’ her younger sibling who kept her  company in the staffroom; though raw she was nearer to my ideal female. What a time we have had in the staffroom late into the nights as ‘V’ too unwound herself in S’s infectious company; the euphoria of their animation seemed to draw me closer to both of them; oh, how they vied with each other to shower praises upon me, all the while caressing me with their enamored looks! Though the vivacity of ‘S’ began to dent my entrenched sense of beauty; it was V’s romanticism that catalyzed the chemistry of our attraction; how lovingly she symbolized the imagery of our attraction in that sketch of two flowers, marked ‘S’  and ‘V’ with the leaf ‘M’ in between them! Soon ‘S’ proposed that we three should celebrate her birthday, a week away, at a nearby tourist resort, and to my delight ‘V’ seconded the proposed outing.”

“It’s as if your maternal grandfather took over where your paternal one left to facilitate another hospital romance in your life.”

“Maybe unwittingly,” he continued, “but the next night, carried away by my sense of conquest, I jumped the gun; well, I had grabbed ‘S’, coyly watched by ‘V’ from whom I had stolen a few kisses by then. When I began deep kissing ‘S’, hugging me though, as she was in tears, I withdrew from her nonplussed, and seeing her cry in silence I was dismayed at the turn of events; I couldn’t figure out how it might’ve been a transgression when we were anyway leading ourselves to get drawn into an threesome orgy. So, having apologized to the sulking ‘S’ watched by a perplexed ‘V’, disarrayed myself I left them for the night, but as ‘S’ remained indifferent to my attempts at reconciliation, my sense of decency precluded my courting ‘V’ though she was all eager. Well as if to remove us from the untenable situation, the attending