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Chapter 22. THE CASH COW.

He was travelling from Delhi to Madras by superfast express.He deposited his things in his seat and went ahead to the pantry car. He saw her, on entering the car. She was seated in a corner. She was busy reading some paper-book, sipping tea.She must have seen him entering. She behaved as if she had not. He also ordered a tray of snacks and tea.Then he turned and stared at her.
She was conscious. It means contact was done. She crossed her legs. She tugged her skirt down and continued reading. His presence was marked. The diners braced them against the lurching of the superfast on a curve. Then it seemed to shake itself straight again, it picked up the speed. Beneath, the iron wheels clacked on the tracks returning to normalcy. It was the movement of the train that made him behave so. It is observed that when one is on a moving vehicle, say a car, a bus or A train or an aeroplane, they are sexually stimulated.
His stare made her uncomfortable as she found herself seated across him which enabled him to have an easy look at her legs. She had to keep pulling her skirt to her knees and pressed the legs to keep them together.


"But this was morning," she reassured herself.
Men didn't make pass in the morning. But he looked again. She could see it from her cross-eyes. She kept on reading. A flush of sensation passed through her body.
She was a model. She had many offers on the small screen. She had her freedom in modeling. She had kept herself above usual things. But with him it was different. He was a perfect crook and a story-teller. He had a knack of describing things in an artful manner. It kept her engrossed for hours hearing his discourse. She liked it. She was never tired of him. He was her Public Relations Man.


She closed her eyes and gave herself to the memory of good old days. She was lost in the past. It was about ten years back.


She was just seventeen and in the first year of the college. He was the College-General Secretary. He was in his last year. It had begun with the annual function celebrations.
She was cast as Portia in the "Trial Scene of the Merchant of Venice," to be staged and performed with renaissance costumes and all that. She possessed that air of superiority and self-confidence rarely seen in a teenage. She appeared like a matured lady commanding and demanding respect wherever she happened to go. She was the daughter of an international art-dealer. She had accompanied her father last June to Europe during the vacation. She was not an ordinary Tina Meena or Reena. She was a celebrity's offspring.

In the first instance she had refused to play any part in the social activity. He insisted that she would volunteer herself for the try-outs and rehearsals. Principal Kotwal and the Head, Mr. Buch persuaded her and assured her of all the facility and arrangement of timing would be made as per her convenience. It was just for fun. It would be fun. It would be good to get out of the house in the evenings under the pretext of preparation for staging the one piece scene from the Merchant of Venice and rehearsals. But she had remained adamant. The matter seemed to have ended there.

One evening he intercepted her. He said that the girl who was selected in her place was poor in dialogue-delivery and asked her to shelve all her misgivings about social activity and for the sake of the reputation of the college she should return and agree to perform the Portia part as the lawyer in the Trial scene against Shylock, the adamant Jew merchant. She would be a perfect match against Shylock.

On her part, it seemed she was not in a position to endure the monotony of the house caged all evening in attending family affairs and all that. She said she would consider.

She recalled now, how there was suspense all around, about the success of an English drama being staged in renaissance costumes, make-up and in an atmosphere of the Shakespearean stage. What had attracted her was the creativity of the entire episode and the veteran persons selected for the roles of Shylock, Antonio and the Duke of the Court of Venice, Bassanio, Nerissa, etc. Antonio, the merchant of Venice, in order to help Bassanio, borrows three thousand ducats from Shylock. He lends him the money under an agreement that Antonio shall forfeit a pound of his flesh in default of payment on the day the bond falls due. Antonio signs the bond thinking it a mere form of no significance. Antonio's ships are reported wrecked and all cargo lost in the sea. The Jew insists that he be given a pound of flesh of his body and nothing else. Portia as a lawyer, pleads the cause of Antonio, with such eloquence and logic that Shylock not only loses his case, but also has his property confiscated for plotting against the life of a Venetian.

In the initial days she thought of him as unattractive and average boy with normal standard of intelligence and bearing, although his speech was quiet and charming.
On the stage he had an air of a leader. He made every one of them toil and shed tears for slight mistake. He made each of them seat before him in the folding chair and read their respective part again and again, while he paced up and down the stage lost in thought.
When her part had come, she began to read. He had not cast her even a single glance. Suddenly in the midst of it, he had halted, and glared at her and snapped.


He: Hey, "You ?" "I can't hear you." "What is the matter with you?" "You quit if you want to !"........... He was red in his face glaring at her.


She swallowed the anger. She got red. Nobody in her life had spoken to her in such a rude tone. She read louder. He continued to stare at her. He made her read like that for ten times. He was not happy. He raised his hands in disgust and helplessness. The day was over. All dispersed and were off for home.

She was annoyed and she did not sleep for the night. She asked her brother to be with her. They caged themselves in her room. The brother made her stand before the mirror.
She virtually crammed her lines of dialogue by heart. The brother helped her wherever she faltered or missed the lines. They performed for few hours straight non-stop. Again in the morning after breakfast they redid the same thing again. Now she felt the lines of dialogue come to her lips automatically. Again in the afternoon, they repeated the same. She gained some confidence. Next day she reported herself at the time of the rehearsal.

He ordered that rehearsals will take place six days a week, non-stop. The rehearsals were in progress in the auditorium hall. After one such session, he asked her to go with him for intensive personal coaching. His manner was impersonal; although he never stopped staring at her with those burning eyes of dislike for her. Script in hand they had gone to his room. She found him friendly, than she had ever seen him.

It had been a better session. Almost after three consequtive visits with him in a week, his artfulness had grown unbelievably. His presence inspired her to open up herself with other details of life and sundry events. 

He was telling her of his life all the ups and down and his success and all his failures. He told everything. She on her part had opened up herself. She told him everything about her life from the child hood days to the days of being a maiden virgin. She was still a virgin and had not tasted the fruits of love in conjugal unity of man's body with her. She long back anticipated it.


When he suggested drinks, she accepted. She never drank. She was now not nervous and afraid. She was not now at an unknown place and at his mercy.
One glass turned into two. Two became four and like that. Rehearsal were forgotten. She was sitting beside him. She was not afraid. He was more friendly than he had ever been. He was telling her, about his life right from childhood days to the time he came to this college. On her part, she was engrossed in telling him her part of life in detail as much as she could but there was no hilarious experience and suspense in her straight and smooth life. She tried to bring colour to her narration by emphasising certain details about the neighbourly boy who was mad after her and all that.

She was new to all this stuff. She felt him much older and mature and dominating. It happened so gradually and normally that she accepted him as one of the facts of life,
one of the accredited member of her life to whom she could tell anything and everything.


After a few more visits to his room, on one occasion she was surprised to find him leave his chair and come to her and comfort her.She had accepted the hug he gave her, in token of appreciation of her work. He had raised himself on his toes in a way that his lips brushed her cheek. She told herself she must not read anything into his behaviour.

 

How it happened, she could not really, say. She now openly poured out her hurts and objections her limitations about the role and all that. He was compessionate and uncritical. He hunched in the chair became the most desirable of the lovers. In that quiet room no other reality existed for her. She loved him and she told him so. He uttered no words but nodded. Sometimes he held her in his arms for hours, untill they heard the honk of her car horn as a signal that time was up.

Now it was a routine that he held her in his arms till she sobered down and resumed her dialogues. He would gently massage the back of her neck until she relaxed.

In time, the physical interludes, with him became more important to her than the moral support he extended to her in enduring her short-comings. His expression remained somber.


She began to dress now for those moments, when he would touch her. Button front sweaters were replaced by black or red turtlenecks.nearing the end of her script dialogue, he would rise from his chair,draw her to him,and take her in his arms.Then his fingers would find way to the smooth valley between her breasts as one by one she unbuttoned her sweater buttons. His fingers would push into the bare breasts and the growing nipples and he would take them into his mouth and gently suck them.  Her hands automatically go to the zip to find his crotch and caress it till it hardened and awoke from sound slumber.


In the meantime she would hear the familiar honk of the car horn from downstairs. It was time to leave. Her driver had come to take her home. It became a practice to bid good-bye.

One evening she appeared in pleated skirts with starch-white top tied with a lace which meant the message was clear. Wordlessly he pulled her towards him.  His fingers rose on her thighs with deliberate slowness. When finally he found her vagina,it was wet and eager. He guided her towards the carpeted floor. They were interlocked into each other.

Both turn by turn narrated even smaller events in their life in detail. She did not remember when he had taken her hand and she even today cannot remember whether she had kissed him or he had kissed her first. She only felt that both had remained in each other's embrace for all the time and that she held his hand tightly when both of them walked into the inner room.

Wordlessly he pulled her to him. As she opened her blouse, his hand went deeper. His fingers rose on thighs with a rhythm and movement like a feather touch. When the fingers finally found the vagina, it was wet eager and waiting. Ignoring the coach, he guided her to lie down on the room carpet. Falling to her knees, she shed all her wears and was ready waiting for him for the final act. When he entered her, her joy was total. She was satisfied at last, physically and emotionally.


The voice she heard about the honking of the car horn. She paid no heed. He can wait. That is his job to wait on her. She took her own time in the bath-room and washed herself and dressed with regular make up and all that. She left without any further talk.

Next day she would attend the rehearsal as usual. She performed normally and with self-confidence. He behaved as natural and normal as he had always been. He found some improvement in her performance. He wanted to depict the role of Portia as a tough and mature type of a lawyer and there should be so much of force and authority and weight in her words that the rough and tough Shylock should be subdued and silent and at her words. She had to control that rascal character of Shylock.

He had wanted to transform her overnight in a match for the brutal tactful tactics of that Jew merchant. She had complied with all his suggestions and adapted herself to the role of a mature seasoned lawyer named Portia. Again a few days later, she attended one more rehearsal at his room. She was amazed herself, she could perform normally. On his part, he was a normal self pure businesslike and annoyed and worried about the outcome of the show.

Again, one more day, he signalled her to wait for him. He got busy in winding up the affairs of the hall and they left like an elderly couple going for a walk.

This time they did not drink and hardly spoke and this time it was not a suspenseful event. It was a routine event. Returning from the rehearsals, her flash gave off a new and unknown receptiveness that could be sensed and seen how so ever she tried to act normal and natural in the midst of her members of her house.

Finally the rehearsals ended. The show was scheduled to be held on the Christmas Eve. A large number of audience had gathered out of curiosity about the outcome of the programme. Big dignitary like the Governor and the Mayor were the Chief Guest. Many filmdom celebrity were scheduled to attend.

The curtain opened with the Duke of the Court of Venice and all parties anticipating the Trial of Merchant of Venice. Antonio was handcuffed and stood with a policeman in a sort of wooden cage. The Duke called the court to order. The Duke was sorry for Antonio that an upright man like Antonio was brought in the Court to answer a stony adversary and inhuman wretch of a man like Shylock. The Duke asks Shylock to shed cruelty and show mercy.

Portia enters the court and takes over the proceedings. Antonio accepts that he had made the bond. Portia pleads Shylock to bestow mercy on the man. The Jew counter-questions as to why he should show mercy? In the court-room, pandemonium broke loose when Portia rose to her full height and confronted him:

"Portia:
" The quality of mercy is not strain'd
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven,
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes,
The throned monarch, better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherin doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this scepter'd sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
Therefore Jew, justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice, none of us,
Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy." Portia pleads his case with such eloquence and logic that Shylock, not only lost his case, but also had his property confiscated. The agreement stipulated "to get a pound of flesh of Antonio if he failed."
Portia thundered:-
"Not a drop of blood should fall, otherwise he will be jailed and his property will be confiscated." "He has to take a pound of flesh and nothing else."
Shylock feels himself helpless and pleads that he be given back three thousand ducats. Portia refuses. Now he will get justice.
There was an all round band of admirers and well-wishers.
The show went on successfully and ended with great applause from all present. The role of Shylock, Portia and Antonio surpassed every one's expectation and proved very appealing. The applause was thunderous.
Shylock is seen whetting his knife upon his shoe, ready to take a flesh of pound, Portia's retort, " Not on thy sole, but on thy soul !"
was the highlight of the act, at which time the Duke had to be stern and pound his gravel to control the outburst of the court spectators.
The show had ended. Now there were no rehearsals and all that meeting. Now there was no scope of regular outing and all that. Their affair became very irregular depending upon a chance if they could find. What had started, begun casually, turned out to be a serious affair. Not since the first time she had felt any pang of guilt. It was all too satisfying and full.
Today, she recalled her liaison with him and was lost in the sweet old memories. She lay on her back. Her eyes were closed. Her arms were limp. She had her one arm over her forehead. Her breath came in short gasps. Her heart hammered. She felt drained and spent. He kissed her till she had wanted that she would scream. Involuntarily her eyes had got closed. So that she could not see. So that by not seeing, to avoid being an active participant in guilt, and shame. She waited it to be done. She waited and waited and it was not done and suddenly she found herself taking the initiative and she was an active participant in the game of love without her realising so as she had never experienced and wanting it never done and never ending.