Chapter 22

Two back-to-back fucks in the morning had left me exhausted. I contemplated going for a jog but I was just too tired for it. Not having anything else to do, I switched on the TV and slumped on the couch to watch the live telecast of a boring test match between Sri Lanka and West Indies. Within a few minutes I was sound asleep on the couch. The shrill sound of the phone ringing startled me awake. It took me a few minutes to realize what the source of the sound was.

I had been dreaming of some building on fire, and me running helter skelter, the clanging of the fire engines ringing in my ears. Groggily I picked up the phone. “Hey Jignesh beta, where have you been? I’ve been calling your house for a while.” said a sweet sing song voice on the other end of the line.

“Uhh, who...” I managed to mutter, not able to place the voice at all.

“Oh beta, were you sleeping? It’s me, Radhika aunty.” spoke the voice from the other end.

“Oh aunty, yes ... sorry ... I...” I mumbled incoherently.

“Sorry beta, I thought maybe you forgot you were going to come here today, so I called. If you hadn’t answered I was going to send somebody there to check on you.” she explained.

“Umm aunty, you don’t need. I was very tired today and took a long nap.” I said. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was 3:30 pm in the afternoon. I had slept for nearly 3 hours, and was still feeling sleepy.

Concerned, Radhika aunty asked “What happened beta? Are you sick or something?”

“No aunty, nothing like that. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” I replied, my eyes still threatening to close at any moment. Pausing for a moment, I said “Auntie, if you don’t mind, I’ll come to your place tomorrow ... I’m very tired today...”

Hearing this, she paused for a minute, before saying in a disappointed tone “Alright beta, I won’t insist. You go to sleep ... I’ll wait for you tomorrow...”

Mumbling a thank you to her, I hung up the phone.

Collapsing back on the couch, I was asleep again in no time. Once again I was rudely awakened by a shrill ringing sound. Cursing, I picked up the phone again, only to realize that it was not the phone, but the bell of our house that was ringing. I was wearing only my boxers and a crew neck vest, and muttering under my breath, I went to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was the 36-year old Punjabi housewife, Radhika aunty. I scratched my head and cursed under my breath wondering why she was here, when I had spoken to her only a few minutes back.

Any other day, I would have been thrilled to see her at my door, but today exhausted and sleepy as I was, I was in no mood to meet her. Forcing a smile on my face, I opened the door. “Sorry beta, I don’t mean to disturb you.” she began, with a concerned look on her plump made-up face.

“No aunty, why don’t you come in.” I said to her with forced politeness, opening the door and stepping aside to let her in. I didn’t want any of the neighbours to spot her at my door.

As I closed the door, she turned aside and said to me in an apologetic voice “Beta ... I was very worried about you ... so I came over. After I spoke to you on the phone, I got the feeling that you’re not well.”

“Not at all aunty. I told you that I was sleeping because I was very tired.” I said to her, a hint of irritation in my voice.

“But beta...” she protested, and then as if changing her mind, just said “Oh...” She seemed a little offended at my tone, and to placate her, I smiled at her warmly, and taking her hand in mine, led her to the couch.

“Oh aunty, don’t worry. Here, have a seat. I’ll bring you something to drink.” I said to her sweetly.

Some of the hurt on her face vanished upon hearing these words, and she smiled at me, albeit hesitatingly.

As I gazed at her, I couldn’t help but think how truly desirable this woman was. I always had a thing for married full-bodied Punjabi women, and Radhika aunty was no exception. Though she was not as fair as some Punjabi women, she was gifted with that typical north Indian heavy body. With big breasts, and a plump round face with red lipstick adorning her thick luscious lips, she looked good enough to eat. Today too, she was dressed in a red and black chiffon saree, with a matching red sleeveless blouse.

Her plump arms looked really sexy in the sleeveless blouse, accentuated by that array of red and white glass bangles she wore on both hands; the type usually worn by newly married Punjabi girls. Her long black hair was tied in a single long braid that reached up to her full wide hips. Mascara lined her eyes, and her face was made up using the ubiquitous Compact; her prominent cheekbones highlighted with rouge. At first sight, one would think that she was ready to go for a party; but having seen her for many years now, I knew that this was how she always dressed.