Girl “Seeing”

GIRL “SEEING”

A Story from My Mumbai Navy Days

By

VIKRAM KARVE

40 Years Ago (Circa 1978)

Mumbai (Then Called Bombay)

My ship returned to our Base Port Mumbai after a long sailing program – we had returned to Mumbai after nearly 3 months.

By the time we “secured” – it was almost lunchtime – and the Captain declared “make and mend” (half day) – to enable married officers and sailors to go home to their families.

Like all “in-living” officers – I had plenty of beer in the afternoon – followed by a hearty lunch – and I was in deep sleep in my cabin – when I was shaken out of my beer-induced stupor.

It was my course-mate “X” – my best friend. 

“Come on – Wake Up – we are going to see a “girl”…” he said.

“Let me sleep for some time…” I protested.

“It is already past 5 – we must reach her house by a decent time…”

“Where…?” I asked, sleepily.

“Dadar…”

“Why Dadar…?”

“The “girl” lives there…”

“What “girl” are you talking about…?”

“My “fiancée”…”

“What…? Fiancée…? Have you got engaged…?” I asked, surprised.

“Not yet. I want you to approve the “girl” – if you like her – we will have the “formal” engagement ceremony…” he said.

I noticed that my course-mate “X” was wearing uniform – so I said to him:

“Are you going in uniform to see the “girl”…?

“No. No. The moment I came to know that your ship has returned to harbour – I came straight to your ship from office. You go and get fresh and come to your senses – you still look all “Beered Out”…” he said.

When I returned after having a refreshing shower – I saw that “X” was all “dressed-up” in my clothes – he was wearing my favourite shirt with my best pair of trousers.

“I have seen people borrow shirts – but you have “bummed” my trousers too…” I said to “X”.

“What are best friends for…?” he said, “there is no time to go all the way to my cabin in Command Mess…”

My course-mate “X” liberally splashed on my perfume – and he said to me:

“I’ll go to the gangway and use the shore phone to tell my fiancée that we are reaching by 6/6:30…”

(Dear Reader: Please remember that this story happened 40 years ago – in 1978 – when there were no mobile phones. Those days – even landlines were considered a “luxury” – and – a common landline shore phone was rigged up on the gangway when the ship was in harbour…)

15 minutes later – at 5:30 PM to be precise – we were sitting in a taxi – heading for Dadar.

Normally – for travelling to Dadar – we would have taken a double-decker bus (Route No. 1) from Museum – or travelled by local train – from CST (then called VT) by the Central Railway or from Churchgate by the Western Railway.

But today – we were going to “see” a girl – and we wanted to look our best when we arrived at her place.

There was quite a bit of traffic – and by the time we reached the girl’s home – it was well past 6 – the time was around 6:15 PM.

Inside – I found a huge crowd – it seemed they were having a family function – or maybe – the neighbours had turned up to “see” the boy.

There were a number of girls – and – my friend generally introduced me to them – and I was confused as to which of the girls was his fiancée.

We sat down on the sofa – with all the girls giggling and looking at us.

Suddenly – a beautiful girl came into the room carrying a tray of snacks.

She served us the snacks.

There was the quintessential “Kande Pohe” and hot “Gulab Jamuns”.

Ah – so this girl was my friend’s fiancée.

I asked her the classic question:

“Did you make the Pohe and Gulab Jamun yourself…?”

“Yes…” she said, “please start eating – and do tell me if you like them…?”

I ate the Kande Pohe – they were okay.

Then – I put a piece of Gulab Jamun on my tongue – the Gulab Jamun was so soft and succulent that it just melted on my tongue.

Yes – the Gulab Jamuns tasted heavenly – they were the best Gulab Jamuns I had ever eaten.

So – I said to my friend’s fiancée:

“Your Gulab Jamuns are really good. In fact – these are the best Gulab Jamuns I have ever eaten in my life…”

My friend’s fiancée blushed – and said to me:

“Thank you – I am so happy you liked them – you must have some more Gulab Jamuns…”

“Of course…” I said, “I will have at least 10 more…”

Yes – I easily had 10 more Gulab Jamuns – maybe much more – the Gulab Jamuns were so delicious that I lost count of how many I had eaten.

Maybe – I had eaten all the Gulab Jamuns my friend’s fiancée had made.

There were so many people around – so many girls – my friend was talking to them – but my attentions were totally focused on the Gulab Jamuns – and the beautiful girl who was serving me the Gulab Jamuns – my friend’s fiancée.

I refused the cup of tea – saying that I wanted the “aftertaste” of these delicious Gulab Jamuns to linger on my tongue till I went to sleep so that I had sweet dreams.

My friend’s fiancée gave me a sweet smile on hearing these words of praise.

Soon – it was time to go.

We got up from the sofa.

We said “good bye” to everyone – and – I smiled a special “good bye” to my friend’s fiancée.

She too gave me a very loving smile.

As I walked towards the door – I felt my trouser pocket.

And – I suddenly realized that I had forgotten something.

I took out the bottle of exclusive “duty free” perfume from my pocket.

I looked at my friend’s fiancée lovingly.

I held out the bottle of perfume towards her and said: “This is for you…”

My friend’s fiancée looked at me in delightful surprise and exclaimed: “For me…? Thank you so much. I love perfumes. You are really nice – it was so thoughtful of you to get me such a nice gift…”

We said goodbye and walked down the staircase.

As we walked down – my friend “X” said to me: “Are you crazy or what…?”

“Crazy…? What did I do…?” I said.

“Why did you give that bottle of perfume to the girl’s mother…?” he said.

“Girl’s mother…?” I said, stunned.

“Yes. You gift my fiancée’s mother the most exclusive perfume – and for my fiancée – you have nothing. Tell me – what will my fiancée feel...?” my friend “X” said angrily to me. 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. 
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Flirting With My “Ex” – A Romance

FLIRTING WITH MY “EX”

Fiction Short Story – A Romance

By

VIKRAM KARVE

From my creative writing archives:
One of my earliest fiction short stories written more than 25 years ago way back in the early 1990s when everyone loved travelling by train.
Do tell me if you liked the story.

FLIRTING WITH MY “EX” – Fiction Short Story By VIKRAM KARVE

I stood on the platform of Hyderabad Railway Station with placid indifference.

It was dark, and the incessant rain made the atmosphere quite depressing.

But I was in a state of elation.

The long arduous business tour of the South had been successful and I was keen on getting back home to my family in Pune after a month’s absence.

The couple of beers and delicious Biryani Dinner had further enhanced my joyful mood.

The beer had been properly chilled and the meat deliciously succulent. 

I felt on top of the world.

The train entered the platform.

I entered the air-conditioned sleeper coach and found my berth.

There were four berths in the small enclosure.

I wondered who my companions would be.

I was a typical middle aged man with a roving eye and a faithful wife.

I was hoping for the best – a bit of flirtation didn’t hurt anyone.

An old lady entered and sat beside me – a disappointing start!

Suddenly, Rajashree entered the compartment.

I am still not sure as to who was more surprised – Rajashree or me...?

I certainly hadn’t bargained for this.

We, Rajashree and me – we stared at each other incredulously.

Suddenly – Vijay came in. 

Now this was too much. 

The coincidence was unbelievable.

“What a pleasant surprise, old boy...!” Vijay exclaimed, shaking my hand, “Long time, no see!”

“Glad to see you, too,” I stammered, “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll go out and have some fresh air.”

I looked at Rajashree.

She pointedly avoided my glance and tried to look busy organizing the luggage. 

She gave absolutely no hint of recognition, as if I were a total stranger.

I made a quick exit to the platform and looked at the clock. 

There were still ten minutes for the train to start.

As I ambled on the platform, I wondered about the situation.

What were Vijay and Rajashree doing together in the same place?

Were they together, or was it a mere coincidence?

Maybe they were just two co-travellers, total strangers, like the old woman and I.

If they were together Vijay would have certainly introduced Rajashree to me.

Maybe he was too busy with the luggage and the porter.

There was plenty of time to get to the bottom of this mystery; it was a long overnight journey to Pune.

Vijay had been a crony of mine, till a few years ago.

We had studied together and later worked in the same firm till he had migrated to the USA in search of better prospects.

He was an unpretentious, soft-voiced man without temper, drama, or visible emotion. 

He was a fine gentleman and I was proud to claim his as a friend.

“Meet Rajashree, a friend and associate of mine”, he said as I entered the compartment.

I looked into her eyes and extended my hand.

She looked ravishing.

Around her slender neck she was wearing an exquisite diamond pendant which enhanced her alluring charm.

Her low-cut blouse, which accentuated the curves of her shapely breasts, made her look temptingly desirable.

She greeted me with a formal namaste, tinged with a chill reserve. 

There was not a trace of recognition in her eyes. 

I kept staring at her. 

The silence was grotesque.

Vijay had introduced Rajashree as a ‘friend’ and ‘associate’ – a rather nebulous description of their relationship.

Was Vijay playing games with me?

Why was Rajashree behaving in this strange manner, refusing to recognize me?

Well, if they wanted to play a double game, I’d be too happy to oblige.

Let me tell you a bit about Rajashree, my first love.

A man’s first love fills an enduring place in his heart.

Rajashree had been my protégée. 

Six years my junior, she was a management trainee when I first met her.

Her vigour was infectious, her wit barbed and she was at once stimulating and overbearing. 

Spirited and talkative, she always wanted to dominate. 

She was ambitious and her commitment to her career was complete.

I was her senior manager. 

It was the fourth job of my career and undoubtedly the best job I had ever held.

Rajashree was extremely competent and I mentored her.

I helped propel her career and she made full use of my patronage.

She thirsted for quick success and her ambition took charge of her.

Her faults entirely arose from her overwhelming ambition and self-centeredness. 

She was impervious to absolutes and could measure her own success only in relation to others.

Despite her frailties and faults, Rajashree was an extremely desirable woman. 

I was attracted towards her and she responded with passion.

With the clarity of hindsight, I can now say that she led me up the garden path.

I can clearly remember the day I had gifted her that lovely diamond pendant which now adorned her slender neck. 

It was Rajashree's twenty-fifth birthday, and after office we were strolling down Opera House intending to have a bowl of zesty Green Chilli Ice Cream at Bachellor’s Fruit Juice Stall opposite Chowpatty, and then spend the evening romancing the sunset on Marine Drive followed by dinner at her favourite restaurant in Churchgate.

I don’t know what made me do it, but suddenly, on the spur of the moment, I took her hand and led her into a posh jewellery shop and grandly asked her to choose her birthday present.

She promptly obliged by selecting a chic, exclusive, gorgeous and most expensive diamond pendant.

My credit cards and cheque book saved the day, but the impulsive birthday gift, which cost me a fortune, almost made me bankrupt.

But then, to me, it did not matter.

That night, for the first time, she made love to me.

Then we became lovers.

I was madly in love with her.

I proposed to her.

She accepted.

Soon we got engaged.

And Rajashree became my fiancee.

Meanwhile, right from the beginning of our relationship, the office grapevine was working overtime. 

Our love affair destabilized working relationships in my department.

Then, one day, suddenly, everything started to go wrong for me at work. 

My career took a down-swing and I was passed over for promotion.

Rajashree dropped me like a hot potato.

She did not want to be identified with a symbol of failure. 

Rajashree did not care for losers.

Now that I was of no use to her in furthering her ambitions, she abandoned me and ingratiated herself with a new powerful patron.

Her rise was rapid. 

Within days she became my peer.

And soon, Rajashree broke the glass ceiling and became my boss.

Just imagine my plight and shame – my protegee had now become my boss.

I accepted our reversal in roles with grace and tried to maintain a cordial working relationship, but Rajashree was ruthless.

It was the most humiliating time of my life and I still smart from the pain of those memories.

Soon the relationship between us had become so demoralized by hate and distrust that it was better severed than patched up.

I quit my job and moved to a new place.

I shed my pique and rancour and rebounded back, fresh with zest.

I did well in my new job, got married to a nice back-home-type girl and settled down.

Soon, I was living the life of a happy and contented family man.
 
The ticket-collector interrupted my chain of thoughts.

I noticed that Rajashree and Vijay were travelling together on a common ticket.

So that was it – “Friends”, “Associates”, “Companions” – many nuances are possible in the relationship between a man and a woman.

I decided to go in for the kill.

I looked at Rajashree and said boldly, “That’s a lovely pendant round your neck. It must have cost you a fortune.”
    
Rajashree ignored me.

Vijay gave her a canny look.

“You shouldn’t wear such expensive jewellery while travelling,” I added, “It is very dangerous, especially in trains.”

“He is right. You must be careful,” Vijay said to Rajashree.

Vijay was now looking curiously at the pendant, “Rajashree, it is really a very elegant and beautiful pendant. Fantastic diamond – must be very expensive. How much did it cost?”

“No, No – it’s just costume jewellery, imitation stuff,” Rajashree said, “I picked it up in the lanes near Charminar, yesterday, for a couple of rupees.”

“What nonsense,” the old lady co-passenger sitting opposite Rajashree suddenly interjected out of the blue, “That is a superb diamond. And it is certainly not costume jewellery. It’s a beautifully crafted premium necklace.”

“No, No – it’s imitation. I know. I bought it myself…” Rajashree stammered nervously, trying to cover the necklace with the pallu of her sari.

“Imitation diamond – what nonsense – that’s a genuine top-grade ornament...!” the lady said vehemently, “I should know. I am a trained gemologist and jewellery designer. Come on, young girl, show me the diamond, the pendant, and I will tell you its true price.”

Rajashree looked nervous. 

She put her hands over her neck.I spoke looking directly into Rajashree’s eyes, “Let the lady have a look the necklace. I had once bought a diamond pendant exactly like the one you are wearing for my fiancée. I want to know whether I got my money’s worth.”

Rajashree looked dumbstruck.

She sat still, frozen, not knowing what to do.

Taking advantage, I moved fast.

I unfastened the clasp, removed the ornament from Rajashree’s neck and gave the necklace to the old lady.

My unexpected action hadn’t given Rajashree any time to react and she looked stunned.

I looked roguishly at Rajashree.

She was staring at me totally bewildered with wide and terrified eyes. 

Her eyes held a desperate appeal. 

She had suddenly become small, weak and vulnerable.

I saw tears of shame start in her eyes.

Her face became so ashen that I thought she was about to faint. 

I did not rebuke her for her mendacity. 

There was no need. 

Her guilt and shame itself were Rajashree own worst reprimand.

As the old lady was meticulously scrutinizing the diamond pendant, comprehension slowly dawned on Vijay.

The train was slowing down to stop at a station.

“Come, let’s go out on the platform,” Vijay said to me putting his hand affectionately on my shoulder, “I desperately need a breath of fresh air.” 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
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© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Abridged and Updated Version of my story Encounter with My Ex written by me 25 years ago in 1992 and posted online in my blog a number of times including at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/10/my-favourite-short-stories-part-66_20.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/06/romantic-encounter-with-my-ex.html etc

Am I a “Prude” – or – Am I a “Dude”…?

AM I A “PRUDE” – OR – AM I A “DUDE” ...?

Love Story

A Fictional Spoof

By

VIKRAM KARVE 

PART 1 – “STEALING AFFECTIONS”

The doorbell rang.

I had just returned home – and – I was taking off my white Navy uniform.

I wondered who it was.

I put on my uniform – I walked out of the bedroom – and – I opened the door.

It was my wife’s friend Menaka – that chic gorgeous beauty who lived opposite our house. 

She looked ravishing.

Menaka was a real “Sex Bomb”.

My eyes locked onto her.

Then – I snapped out my trance – and – I said to Menaka: “My wife is not at home – she has gone to her mother’s place for a week…” 

“I know that your wife is not here...” Menaka said, “I have come to meet you.”

“Me…?”

“Yes – I want to you to take me out to the city for shopping.”

“Me…? You want me to take you out shopping…?”

“Yes. My husband is out sailing – and – I need some things from town – so I thought I would ask you to take me to the market on your bike…” Menaka said.

Menaka was standing in the door – with the evening sun behind her.

The rays of the sun penetrated through the light fabric of her summery white dress.

I could see the curvaceous silhouette of her shapely body quite clearly.

My eyes travelled over the silhouette of her body – and – my hungry eyes lingered exactly where they should not have.

I felt ashamed of having eyed her body so brazenly.

So – I quickly moved my eyes away – and I lowered my glance.

After a few moments – I looked up at her.

She looked so sensuous, so tantalizing, so alluring – that I could not take my eyes away from her.

But – she seemed nonchalant – oblivious of the stirring sensual vibes she was radiating – standing as she was – in her light ‘see-through’ dress – with the sun behind her.

“Are you going to just keep staring at me – or – are you going to invite me inside…?” she said, with a naughty smile.

“Oh – I am very sorry – please come inside…” I said, embarrassed.

Menaka came inside – and she sat on the sofa in the living room.

I stood there – mesmerized – wondering what to do.

“Why don’t you change into “civvies”…?” she said, “it is already 5:30 – and I have a lot of shopping to do.”

“Yes, Yes…” I said – and I quickly walked into my bedroom.

As I started taking off my uniform – I kept thinking of her – my wife’s friend – the gorgeous “Sex Bomb” Menaka – sitting in the living room.

My imagination started running wild.

Her husband was away.

My wife was away.

She was lonely.

I was lonely.

We both were lonesome.

Anything could happen.

First – she would sit behind me on my motorcycle – holding me tight.

Then – we would have a “good time” in the city – shopping, eating, and walking around – and – maybe – she would ask me to take her for a movie.

When we returned back – it would be late – so – maybe – she would me invite me to her home for dinner.

Then – maybe – she would offer me a drink.

And – maybe – she would join me for a drink.

(Yes – I had seen her drinking at parties).

Then – as we sat together – one drink would lead to another – and – one more – and soon – with so much alcohol inside us – we both would get “high”.

With both of us – Menaka and Me – in this “high” state – sitting together in an atmosphere of intimacy – with our inhibitions dissolved in alcohol – anything could happen. 

Yes – anything could happen.

She was very attractive – and – I wouldn’t mind having an affair with her – or – at least a “one night stand”.

But – I did not have the guts to do so – because – I shuddered to think of the consequences.

My shrewd wife would surely sense that I had indulged in “hanky-panky” – and then – she would surely divorce me.

Besides – in the Navy – “stealing the affection of a brother officer’s wife” was considered an offence – and – I could be sacked and dismissed from the Navy with disgrace.

It would be a “double-whammy” – for both my marriage and my career.

My marriage would break-up and my career would be in shambles.

I had to be careful – there was absolutely no point in taking the risk.

So – I buttoned up my uniform – and – I went out into the living room.

Menaka looked at me.

Menaka seemed perplexed to see me still wearing uniform – so – she said to me: 

“What happened…? Why are you still in uniform…? Why haven’t you changed into “civvies”…?”

“I am sorry – but I cannot take you out shopping…” I said.

“But why…? What happened…? Just a few minutes ago – you had readily agreed to take me out shopping. And now – you are saying that you cannot take me out shopping. First you say “YES” – and then you say “NO”…” she said, looking confused.

“I am sorry. Please excuse me. I cannot tell you the reason – but – I can’t take you out shopping…” I said, shamefacedly.

“If you don’t want to help me – it’s fine. It’s okay. I’ll ask someone else…” she said, looking disappointed.

Then – Menaka got up from the sofa – and she walked out of my house.

ONE WEEK LATER

PART 2 – “SOCIAL GRACES”

When I came home from work in the evening – I saw that my wife was angry.

“Don’t you have any “social graces”…?” my wife thundered.

“What happened…?” I asked.

“I was hugely embarrassed at the Ladies’ Club Meet – thanks to your stupid behaviour…” my wife said angrily.

“What did I do…?” I asked her.

With scorn in her eyes – my wife rebuked me:

“Menaka asked you to take her out shopping because her husband was sailing out at sea – and – you rudely refused her…? First – you said “YES” – then – you said “NO” – she has told everyone about your “unofficerlike” ungentlemanly behaviour – and – it was so humiliating for me. Because of your weird behaviour you have become the ‘laughing-stock’ among all the Navy wives. And – everyone is laughing at me too – for having such an ill-mannered “nincompoop” husband. I really don’t know how they made you an Officer in the Navy…?

“There is a reason…” I tried to explain.

“Just shut up...” my wife interrupted me – and then – she shouted at me: “I thought Naval Officers were supposed to be chivalrous – and you behaved in a most boorish way with a lady who wanted your help. You are a disgrace – I feel ashamed to be your wife…”

I saw that my wife was so angry that there was no point in me trying to explain my side of the story to her.

It was best for me to remain silent.

My wife went into the kitchen.

I went into the bedroom – I changed from uniform into “civvies” – and I lay down on my bed.

After some time – my wife informed me that she was going to the market with her friends – and – she left the house.

PART 3 – “CHIVALRY”

I relaxed for some time after my wife had left.

Then I got up.

It was getting dark. 

I poured my first drink of Rum and Water (Rum-Pani) – and – I sat down in front of the TV.

I looked at the wall-clock.

One hour had passed since my wife had gone out shopping with her friends.

She would be back soon.

I was enjoying my second drink when the doorbell rang.

“It must be my wife...” I thought – and I opened the door.

It wasn’t my wife.

There was a woman standing at my door.

I did not recognize her.

She was the most ordinary looking woman I had ever seen.

She was not ugly – she just looked prosaic and pedestrian – a real “Plain Jane”.

Yes – she was a “Plain Jane” – a “homely” type of woman.

She was the kind of woman with whom a man could spend time yet not feel disloyal to his wife.

Yes – she was the type of woman with whom any wife would readily allow her husband to go out on a date with – and feel safe about it.

“Hi...” the “Plain Jane” woman said, “It looks like you haven’t recognized me…”

“I am sorry…” I stammered.

She smiled – and she said to me: “I am Mala – Mrs. ‘XXX’ – we’ve come on posting and we have just shifted to this building last week… ”

“Oh – please come in...” I said to her, “what can I do for you…?”

“No. No. I won’t come in – but – it’s a bit urgent – can you please take me to the market…?” she asked me.

“Market…?” I said, confused.

“Yes. My husband is out sailing – and I have to get something urgently – from the medical store – it’s very urgent. So please – I will be very grateful if you take me to the market…” she said.

I remembered the previous embarrassing episode with my wife’s beautiful friend Menaka – where I had refused to take Menaka to the city.

And – I remembered my wife’s sermon on “social graces” and “chivalry”.

Besides – this “Plain Jane” standing in front of me – Mala – she looked so unexciting and ordinary – that even otherwise – I would have no hesitation in giving her a lift on my bike. 

Also – she was asking me to take her only to the nearby market. 

So – I readily agreed.

Soon – we – Mala and I – we both were riding on my bike on our way to the market.

Mala was holding onto me very tightly.

She may have been ordinarily looking – but – she was quite “well endowed” – and voluptuous too. 

Like her – I too was on the “healthier side”.

So – it was a tight squeeze on the small seat of the bike.

Mala put both her hands around me and clung onto me tightly – and – our bodies were in close contact – snug together.

On the way – I saw my wife and her friends walking back from the market – so I proudly waved out to my wife.

I was sure my wife would be proud of me for my “chivalry” and “social graces” in helping out a lady. 

But – I was in for a big surprise.

When I returned home – I saw that my wife was furious.

The moment my wife saw me – she shouted at me: “Where the hell were you taking Mala on your bike…?”

“You know Mala..?”

“Yes. We met this morning at the Ladies’ Club – but – I am asking you what Mala was doing with you on your bike – squeezing you in a tight embrace – hugging your body so shamelessly…? It was disgusting – the way you two were desperately clinging onto each other. Tell me. Why was Mala with you on your bike...?”

“She wanted to go to the market…” I explained.

“But why did you take her…? She could have walked down to the market herself – like I did…” my wife said.

“She said that it was urgent…” I said.

“Urgent – My Foot…!!!” my wife shouted at me.

“She wanted to buy something from the medical store. And – you only told me about ‘social graces’ – that I should be ‘chivalrous’ towards ladies…” I said.

“Don’t talk nonsense…” my wife said angrily.

“Nonsense…? She is such a simple lady…” I said.

“Simple lady…? She is a “man-eater”– she is a “nympho” – she was trying to seduce you…” my wife said.

“Seduce me…?” I said, stunned.

“Yes. She “mesmerized” you – didn’t she…?” my wife asked me.

“Mesmerized me…? What are you saying…?” I said, confused.

My wife looked at me – and she said to me: 

“Do you know what Mala told me at the Ladies Club Meet this morning…?”

“What…?” I said.

“She said that she could “mesmerize” any man…” my wife said.

“She said that she could “mesmerize” any man…? So what...?” I said. 

“I told Mala that she could not “mesmerize” you – I told her that you were an old-fashioned “prude” – I told her about how you had refused to take Menaka to the city…” my wife said.

“What…?”

“In fact – it was Menaka who told everyone the story about your strange behaviour – and – everyone laughed...” 

“Oh…”

 “And then – Mala boasted that she could easily “mesmerize” you into taking her to the market on your bike...”

“Really…”

“But – everyone said that you would never take Mala on your bike – and – I also said that she would not be able to “mesmerize” you into taking her to the market on your bike...” 

“Oh…” 

“So – Mala dared me to take a bet – and – I took a bet with her…” my wife said.

“Oh – so you are angry because you lost the bet…” I said to my wife.

“No – I am worried that I may lose the second bet…” my wife said.

“Second bet…? You took two bets with Mala…?” I asked my wife.

“Yes. The first bet was that she could “mesmerize” you into taking her for a ride on your bike…”

“Okay. She won that bet. And what was the second bet…?”

“Mala said that she could “seduce” you…”

EPILOGUE

Did Mala try to “seduce” me…?

Did she succeed in seducing me into having an affair with her…?

Well – Dear Reader – that’s another story.

But – one thing is for sure.

A “Plain Jane” has a more rollicking “Love Life” than a “Sex Bomb”.

Maybe – you may not agree with me – but this is a “universal truth” that I have observed during my college days – and – later – in my adult life too.

Ordinary looking “Plain Janes” have much more “Fun” than those ravishingly beautiful “Sex Bombs” 

You don’t believe me...?

Have a look around you – and observe – who is having uninhibited “fun” – who is having a really “good time” – the “Plain Janes” – or – the “Gorgeous Girls”…?

Tell me – Dear Reader:

Am I right...?

Or – am I wrong…?

But – Dear Reader – before you go away – please answer the “moot question”:

Am I a “Prude...?

Or – am I a “Dude”…? 

See you soon – with another “love story” from my wonderful Navy days. 

VIKRAM KARVE

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Disclaimer:

1. This story is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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This is a revised repost of my story PLAIN JANE posted online earlier by me Vikram Karve in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal Blog on May 10, 2016 at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/05/plain-jane.html  and reposted at url:  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/09/sex-bomb-and-plain-jane.html