Vyshya Dharma

One day, by noon, it was so sultry. I thought, it might provide some relief, if I kept open our backyard window.

When I opened it, the window hooked me to witness an act of lovemaking.

The Electricity Board people had had chopped down a branch from a dense tree, standing in our backyard, to make way to the overhead power lines. A gap thus created exposed to me the lovers in the house behind.

May be I was sex starved all these eight years, but then I was never allowed to listen to my body utterances. My husband was a businessman. A busy man he posed to be. He used to burden my mind with his business worries and find excuses, always, to stay away from my sexual needs. Luckily, he could spare some time in the early days of our married life. I conceived and gave birth to our daughter, who is eight years old now.

Loving Son

This story is about my Ammi (mother) and me. Her name is Zeenat. My Father, Mustaq Ali got married with her at very young age. Within year my oldest brother, Imran bhai (Brother in Urdu) was born when she was only eighteen, after year later my sister, Shabnam aapa (sister in Urdu)) was born. When my mother was twenty she gave birth to me, Salim. We are typical Muslim family living here in Bombay.

My father was a quiet person who has got some export business. He used to go every morning for work and would come back late at night. Initially my father and mother were enjoying their marriage life. But after having three children's he apparently lost his interest in my mother. After that he devoted his life for his business. Apparently due to his business he ignored my mother lately. My mother became quiet after that. But he still loves my mother and she respected and loved him too. They laugh and make jokes some times but not like earlier days. Even though she was always cheerful I know there was some sadness in her.

Give solace to my lair - Suthakaami Temple

I started my journey home. Just out of college I got a job, in the city, and was in my probation period. It was not wise to go on leave, but I received a call from my father saying that my mother became mad and my presence there was essential.

On the way home, along the hilly road, our bus was stopped, at a hamlet, for tea. Getting down, I walked a bit away, went behind a bush and started emptying my bladder. As I was doing so, I was not aware, then, that a woman nearby was looking at my out-of-fly secrecy. When I noticed her presence I felt awkward, but she smiled at me. A mad woman she was. Thought of my mother flashed in me. I smiled back. And the mad woman voiced, "A big penis you have there to give solace to a lair so dear."

All the way home I was wondering on the mad woman's remark.