Pluton's Pyre

by Gyandeep Kaushal

  I could also see a photo-frame, which in all probability contained a picture of some deity, for next to the frame stood a holder into which was tucked a handful of lit-up incense sticks. The entire room was redolent of the smell. The scent reminded me of Ma’s barsi. However, I couldn’t tell the religion this man professed, as I couldn’t see the actual picture in the frame.

  ‘Chai chalega?’ asked the man, offering tea.

  ‘No,’ I politely refused.

  He pushed his chair back and hauled open one of the drawers in the table. He pulled out a small photo-album and flung it on the table, towards me.

  ‘The first four are for six-thousand an hour, the rest are for four each,’ he said, as I opened the file.

  Each leaf carried pictures of naked girls on both sides. These were probably the sex-workers on hire here. The pictures looked like the work of an amateur photographer, most likely his best attempts. And they were locally shot, perhaps within the confines of this very compound.

  One by one, I went through the entire album.The only person whose company I shared kept looking at me, hands folded. It didn’t take too long.When I was finished, I closed the album, and placed it on the table top.

  ‘So, who finally got the eyes of our Nawab sahib?’ asked the man courteously.

  ‘None,’ I answered blatantly.

  ‘Huh?’he exclaimed in surprise. ‘Well,then…’ he went on, ‘I think I’ve got just the right thing for you.’

  ‘Is that so?’ I asked, wondering a little at his confidence.

  ‘Yes… but you might have to be a little generous,’ he warned politely.

  ‘That shouldn’t be a problem,’ I said.

  ‘Beshaq, nawab sahib, beshaq’, said the pimp showing confidence in me.

  I had enough money in my wallet and if, in any case, it couldn’t cover my expenses for the day, I had enough savings in my bank account, the ATM card of which, too, I carried in my wallet. I thought I could let myself go a little, reckoning with the fact that I was about to have a government job to take care of the expenses, so money shouldn’t be such a big concern, especially considering the value for money…

  ‘How much, exactly,’ I asked the pimp.

  ‘Twelve thousand an hour’, he said.

  I opened my wallet and took out twelve thousand-rupee notes and paid the pimp. He beamed a wide, satisfied grin.

  ‘Well, then, great… how about you wait upstairs, while I arrange for your feast?’ he said and winked at me. ‘Chhotu,’ he called and a boy from the other room appeared. ‘Take the sahib to the room,’ he commanded. The boy nodded and gestured to me to follow him.

  I was climbing the stairs, following the boy, noticing everything about the building was typical. I learned it was an old one. A little renovation was going on, it seemed, as I could see floor tiles being attached over stairs that led to the second floor, while the ones till the first floor were bare and eaten through.The concrete had worn out as though an animal with metal teeth had taken a bite. Betel stains were evident on the walls and all the corners, while the smell of food being cooked kept tickling my olfactories at intervals, until we finally reached one of the flats.

  The boy unlocked the door and I entered. I followed the boy into one of the rooms.

  Suddenly, all my previous conceptions about a place such as this changed. It was more than a surprise; a shock. It was another world. Everything was so different here from everything outside.

  It was dark within.The smell was different: of bountifully sprayed perfumes across the entire span of the room. I couldn’t help but wonder if all that fragrance was only intended to pleasure the guests or to cover up the sharper stench of human juices. The red curtain over the only window in the room had been drawn across, to permit only the tiniest crack of sunlight through.There was a traditional table lamp, with a red linen shade in one corner. And the series lights had followed me here too. They were everywhere, again, hung from the walls, at the door and even dangling from one of the sides of the bed in the room.They blinked every now and then, although they weren’t too bright.Apart from this, a number of night bulbs were bunched together, most of them red again. It was as though the air too, was red. Here, it wasn’t as bright as outside. Here darkness and daylight weren’t archenemies but allies, who in unison acted to balance the peculiar vibe this quarantine cubicle possessed.

  ‘You may sit on the bed while you wait. Maalik shall soon make all the arrangements,’ said the boy, moving out, leaving the door open.

  I had a proper look around. The lights, the smell, the darkness, the bed, the sheet on it, the lamp in the corner… everything made it look as though this was a place of celebration for those who were to pay a visit to this den. It was intended to be a place where men were to reap great enjoyment, imbibe peerless ecstasies, and be dispensed with all worries in life, within moments. It was a place where fantasies came to life for losers like me.

  I was a little nervous, though, I have to admit. I was going to do it the first time in my life and that, too, with a professional, who wouldn’t be even nearly as excited about sex as me.What if I couldn’t do well? I’d heard you can’t hold it for too long for the first time.What if she laughed at my amateur moves? I could lose all my money and get nothing back, couldn’t escape the embarrassments, be mortified for life. But the next moment I decided not to let panic spoil potential fun. It was not a girlfriend that I would lose should I make a fool of myself.

  So, I thought may be I should settle down a bit, stretch myself, relax may be. I proceeded to take a seat on the bed. It was soft, yes and comfortable too, though it didn’t look too expensive. I tried to make myself at home.

  So it was kholis such as these that performed the function of both home and workplace for these whores.They served the customers here and cooked, ate and lived in the other flats.And that guy who convened our meeting in his office, the man in the yellow shirt, he had to be a pimp; perhaps one of many, for it seemed improbable that he’d be the only one to take care of a locality of such size. Or maybe he was the boss, who didn’t mind doing a few things on his own. Oh well, they definitely had staff. They had these boys to take care of the little things. Sure, a person couldn’t run one of these on his own; he would have to keep some errand boys around.They were able to run this brothel profitably in a strangely systematic manner, in a suburb such as this, managing the police and everything—because of the client support they had.

  The sound of someone’s footsteps and the chimes of payals in tandem broke into my musings. I knew what they heralded.

  She came in through the door; stood there and smiled at me, having placed a hand on her waist.

  To tell you, this was one gorgeous woman, a total eye-popper. She was clearly much more than I’d anticipated. Sure, that man had taste after all.As he’d promised—she was just the thing I wanted.

  She was young, perhaps in her late twenties. Not that I could be too sure, what with all the makeup she had on. But she was fair-skinned and slim, certainly. And she was beautiful. In common with many men when confronted with a beautiful prostitute, I wondered how she could be in this line of work. For a body like that, countless spoiled rich boys would’ve done anything for her.

  Unlike those typical prostitutes they show in movies, she wasn’t wearing a mini-skirt or shorts or anything like that. She’d put on a heavy lehenga instead, cherry-red in colour, and a matching blouse, one that revealed her assets only as much as would make a man want her all the more. Maybe that dress sense was purely her own, or may be it was the consequence of a considerable investment, a dedicated workforce perhaps.

  Well, she didn’t really look like a total whore at first sight. I guess she rather preferred to maintain (or was made to maintain) an aura that did give the customers the freedom and confidence to approach her with the most lascivious of desires, but also remain balanced with a substance of romantic flavour and passion.That must have been the reason for her being different and more valued than the other girls. />
  ‘Hi,’ I said and then wondered if that was required at all. She winked at me and pouted.

  ‘So you’re the lucky one today?’ she asked, with the most coquettish look I’d ever seen. No doubt, she was a seasoned professional.

  ‘Lucky? I don’t seem to get you.’

  ‘You’re my first one today,’ she said.

  ‘So, what’s so lucky about that?’ I asked.

  ‘You’ll come to know in a while yourself,’ she said, her manner all seductive. I didn’t understand what she meant, so I shrugged. She heaved a sigh and went on, ‘Well, I’m all fresh, nobody has touched me today yet, and most probably you’ll smell the best of me,’ she said, sweeping all her hair to one side and giving me that ultra-suggestive look again.

  ‘Uh, okay.’

  ‘So, what do you do… janaab, sire?’ she asked. Oh, she also knew some royal words.

  ‘I… I…umm, nothing right now, but I’ll be a railway engineer soon.’ I was stammering… I don’t know why. Perhaps I was weakening under her dominating, confident way of speaking.Those must have been the usual question she asked. ‘But why do you ask?’

  ‘Well, not all scoundrels are endowed with the riches to afford me. But you… my love, you’re here.’

  ‘The way you speak, it’s very romantic… as though you really mean you love me.’ I decided, since this was going to cost me plenty, to make the best of things.A little conversation wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  ‘Oh, I do… and I must… again and again,’ she replied like a wound-up doll.

  ‘Why?’ I curiously asked.

  ‘Well, it makes it easier to fuck a stranger… so we must fancy being in love every time, with every customer that comes… we pretend to them and ourselves too...’ She seemed to get a little serious somehow.Then she remembered her job. ‘You see that’s the secret ingredient to keep this dish cooking,’ she said, lit up all over again and winked. She was a more intelligent talker than I was any day, and that after I had a degree in engineering.

  ‘You speak very well,’ I complimented her.

  She stepped forward, aligning herself with the edge of the bed on which I sat. She placed an elbow on a knee, leaned her chin on her hand and looked right at me. ‘But you’re not here for that, are you? You must be careful.You may be able to buy me for only a few hours, with all the money your pockets can hold.You don’t want to waste it, do you?’ And at that, my mind’s eye looked into my wallet again.

  She paused and looked at me. ‘You’re too shy... jaaneman, love of my heart. Come on now… will I have to do it or will you bother to undress your queen? I bet you want to fuck me right now,’ she said and with a jerk, pulled my palms to her bare waist, just above the waistline of her lehenga. She gently provoked me to push that clothing down.

  A chill ran through my body as I grabbed her waist. It thrilled me to touch female flesh, almost for the first time. My eyes went to check out her navel… it was beautiful - deep and promising.I could feel something inside me.It was as though I was being betrayed by a part of me, as though it was beyond my control.The grip of my palms on her skin tightened. I took a fuller hold of her body, squeezing her naked flesh. I was gulping in an experience unprecedented in my life; I was revelling in that exaltation. It was so soft, that well-oiled skin of hers. I could feel her hips. Mother of God! They were soft. My fingers were walking down a part of the little alley between her soft cushions. I could hold her like that forever; may be bury my face into her navel, that tiny orifice of ceaseless satisfaction which tempted me to kiss it. Swear to God, I wanted to pull that piece of cloth off her. I could’ve torn them apart, thrown that steamy body of hers on the bed and drilled her, ripped her, to death. I wanted to do to her everything a man can to a woman.

  But before I could even think about gearing up to the next level, I sensed a piece of me changing. Fuck! I’d started to get an erection already.

  I don’t know if it was the fear of premature ejaculation, or something else, but every second that I noticed myself becoming tighter, I felt as if I was being electrocuted, as though by a Taser, worse each fleeting moment. I don’t know what happened. I drew my hands back.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  ‘Umm, I guess, I would like to rather see you undress yourself…’ I said, now that I didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘Oh… okay, as you wish…’ she said and smiled understandingly. She stepped back and within a moment, she’d dropped her clothes, all of them…!

  Oxytocin and adrenaline metastasized to all the right areas of my body. I couldn’t stop looking at her… all of her.

  She was better than many of the young porn stars I’d watched for years. Even after perhaps years of being in this profession, when countless men would’ve fed upon her, she had a body that could belong to an untouched girl.

  She turned around and back again, to flaunt everything she had. Her breasts were firm and round, in the best shape they could ever be.And she had pert buttocks. (I wondered if all that was silicon, aerobics, or surgery.) Her thighs were fuller and meaty, her arms well-packed. She was well-shaved everywhere—and I mean everywhere—not a strand of unwanted hair, just the way modern men probably preferred. She’d also put in a lot of product in her hair. She may not have been purely a creation of nature alone, but she was an excellent one, nevertheless.

  I was excited, for sure, for she was perfect and I was going to do her. I couldn’t help but watch her, all naked like that. So I sat there with mouth agape at the majesty of the view.

  ‘Tu nalla hai, na?’ she asked, all of a sudden. I was a little surprised to hear her talk again.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You’re a virgin, right?’ she translated. I was taken aback. How the hell did she know?

  So I asked, all bewildered, ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘The way you look at me,’ she said, reducing her flirtatious manners to the business-like. She occurred to me to be a little bored, but she continued, ‘It’s like you’ve never seen a woman without her clothes before.’ She paused before continuing, ‘I mean, not that it’s bad or anything… all I meant was it’s obvious you’ve not been even with someone like me…’That was a poor attempt at consolation.

  My excitement suffered a quick death, my good mood fled. The tight surge ebbed away and the hormones took flight home. This bloody whore could tell all about that celibacy that I’d never really celebrated or had asked for. I felt ashamed of being a virgin.

  Even this naked slut bitch knew that I’d never had sex in my life. She was not supposed to know that. I wondered if a woman like her could tell just by the way I looked at her, how difficult could it be for an ordinary city-girl with her sophisticated intelligence, to tell about my virginity.

  So evident was the fact that I was a virgin; that I’d never tasted female flesh; that I craved for sex; that I was full of sex, that now people could read it off my face. Perhaps I was the typical pervert who couldn’t help showing off, occasionally, what was really going on inside. That was it, may be, the savage truth simplified.

  I was a noxious vermin, then? Well, of course, Geetika too must have read my face. She too would’ve come to know that I was a frustrated virgin. All the girls who’d have ever looked at me would’ve known. I wondered for how long I’d been carrying that goddamn face. I wondered if Malvika too would’ve smelled my potential perversity.

  ‘I hope I didn’t say anything wrong. You know, sometimes I can say stupid things,’ the whore said, trying to pick up from where she’d left off.

  ‘No… it’s okay,’ I said through clenched teeth.

  ‘Uh, okay then, how about we get back to work? Come to me; come on…’ She invited me over to herself again. ‘You don’t want to waste time anymore. Because I am not going to heed any of those requests you people make asking me to give you a little 25 per cent extra. I won’t do it. I am tired of this shit. They don’t have the money, they come here, and they ask for more time. Do I look
like a fucking creditor or what? Plus, I am not the one who decides. If you want more time, you’ve got to talk to the boss. I can’t.’ She spoke really fast. ‘Now if you have to do anything, come over here… and I’ll give you a good time. Otherwise, I’ve got more bookings.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I interjected those words right in the middle of her speech.

  My mood was shat upon.Though she still stood right in front of me, naked, looking great, and all, I don’t know why but I didn’t feel like doing a thing whatsoever. ‘I think I’m done,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ she yelled. I don’t know if she’d been surprised or insulted. ‘What the fuck? I mean… crap… if you didn’t have to do anything why did you waste my time? To hell with you… I told you I’ve got more customers waiting. Now get your ugly ass out of here and collect your money from my boss, that fat old prick. Such a waste of time and such a shitty start to the day!’

  ‘I’m sorry I wasted your time, I really am,’ I said penitently. ‘But you can keep the money.’

  ‘What? Why? Take your money back.Ask the boss, he’ll give it to you. I make him more money than all the whores put together. Tell him I’ve told him. Ask him to check it up with me.You may leave now,’ she said.To tell you the truth, actually, this girl was quite sweet.Though she’d been all gung-ho a while ago, she was offering me a refund. Now which whore does that?

  ‘No, it’s fine. I mean, you removed your clothes and all for me… so you keep the money, please. I even had a good time with you, in a way.You did great. So you keep it…’

  ‘Umm… okay, fine… I’ll keep it.’

  ‘I guess I should leave now,’ I said.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. I rose from the bed and advanced towards the door.

  ‘Good day,’ she said.