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Brown and Grey
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Tathagata Mukhopadhyay
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I
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got acquainted with William ‘Billy’ Brown when
I was fifteen…
Those
were the days when there was no internet, no mobile phones, no computers,
nothing. Only means of communication was through letters. And there were those black
mechanical telephones, which only allowed ten per cent of its calls to go
through. They merely were regarded more as showpieces in living rooms than their real use - which was to talk!.
Compared
to the present day the communication system – or rather the lack of it - was a
major hindrance towards connecting and communicating with the members in the
opposite sex.
Billy
had reached an age when ninety per cent of his mind, like any
fifteen-year-adolescent, was occupied with thoughts on girls for ninety-five per cent of his time. In his friend’s circle girls were the main topic of
discussions. Even without the effective aid of communication, he
was aware of histories and geographies of all girls in the neighbourhood and
beyond…
Cursory
exchange of glances was often mistaken as the blossoming of an affair. Hours
were spent on street corners with hopes that ‘she’ would come out of her cocoon
to visit the nearby bookstore for stationeries. He followed girls on hy slowly trailing them on his bicycle as they walked. So much so that in the process, his slow-cycling skills had
improved...
However, none of the efforts actually bore fruits! Their glances were more out of scorn than sympathy. The ‘she’ barely noticed him
during her visits to the bookstore or the chemist, and also while walking to
her school…
He
got frustrated, but his dseparation complelled him to hold on to his hopes. He started looking for more and more
options. There was no dearth of girls, only there was no means to effectively
communicate, except the letters. But the letters were too risky. Notwithstanding, in desperation, he tried to slip in a letter or two in the letterboxes
and in the process, once, almost got beaten up by the security guards. It was
needless to say he never got answers to any of his letters…
And
then one day, in a magazine, he discovered Molly, Molly Ray.
Molly,
based in Howrah, was looking for pen friends. There were many ads for
pen-friend columns, but somehow, Molly’s name caught his attention…
He
started imagining how Molly looked. Was she was fair or dusky, slim or plump,
heavy or light bosomed, she had apple-shaped or pear-shaped ass?
Soon,
in his imagination, he managed to educe Molly's imagery as an attractive buxom lass. Immediately, she became the girl of his dreams.
I
saw the pen-friend ad too. Needless to say, I too, was attracted by the name.
Without wasting time I wrote my first letter to Miss Molly Ray proposing her my pen-friendship. By then I, too, had realized, having a real girlfriend was never
going to be easy, so might as well get one through letters…
Little
did I know, that even through letters, it wasn’t going to be easy? The
turn-around time for a reasonably prompt reply in those days was around seven
to ten days. So from the sixth day onwards, I became fidgety, every now and
then running to the letter box expecting a reply.
Meanwhile
on day five, Billy Brown, following my footsteps, wrote his first letter to Molly, pleading her to be
his pen-friend.
On
day twenty, Billy Brown got a reply from Molly Ray accepting him as her
pen-friend. But by then I became sure that Miss Ray was never going to respond
to my letter. It was a setback alright, but it
eventually sunk in me that I was in the rejection list of Molly Ray…
The
friendship between Molly and Billy continued to flourish, even though it only
bordered around flirtatious innuendos and never culminated in an affair.
Soon,
Billy and Molly passed their high schools and got busy into building their
respective careers. Exchange of letters dried up, and after Billy left his home
for a residential Engineering College, it stopped altogether. Molly Ray was
lost in the sands of time…
***
Billy
Brown did his engineering and got into a reasonably good job immediately
after. After six years, at the age of twenty-nine he got married to a girl chosen by his parents. He had never studied in a co-ed school, and in his
branch of engineering – Mining - there were no girls. At his job also,
there were no lady co-workers. So for him, it had been an all-male environment
all along. His wife was the first woman he ever touched and kissed, exactly the
way things are scripted for domesticated Indian boys.
In
due course, Billy got a kid, bought a flat and nicely settled in life. Looking
for better opportunities, he switched jobs four or five times, rose to a
reasonably senior level, and then one day retired from an MNC at the age of
sixty-two.
Times
changed. This was an era of smartphones and the internet, where an overdose of
information-flow was the order of the day. Diarrhoea of information flowed
through emails, text messages, WhatsApp, calls, TVs, newspapers, live blogs, Facebook,
twitter, virtually from everywhere … eventually pressurizing every individual to
coup with just reading and replying.
But
Billy was far from being pressurized by this inundation of information. The email contacts that he had were
official. So post-retirement, with his official email id gone, he lost
all email contacts. He was never into Facebook or Twitter. He wasn’t even sure
how to open a Facebook account!
So,
post-retirement, Billy tried his hands at gardening, but his aged back did not
agree. He was never into reading, yet he tried to read novels. His wife was an
avid reader. The first book he started upon his wife’s recommendation – “Gone
with the wind” – he could complete only forty pages. His wife recommended
detective stories. He tried that too. Sherlock Holmes could not excite him.
Miss Marple couldn’t entice him. He changed genres. From crime to thriller, to
comedy, to soft love stories, to horror, to biographies … nothing could keep
him awake beyond ten pages…
Mrs.
Brown went to work. Their son lived independently in Pune. So, Mr Brown was
all alone throughout the day knowing not what to do. All these years he had
only one hobby – his work. While he was still working, he struggled for time.
It was the most precious commodity of his life. Suddenly, post-retirement, time
became his biggest enemy… He eagerly waited for his wife to return from work.
But on most days, she was very tired. Also, after she was back home, she had to
do all the household chores. This often left the wife grumpy. She simply
did not have the energy to chat with Mr Brown. This left Billy more frustrated.
Their sex life anyway had trickled down to maybe once in two months, like
ritualistic drills. Now even the casual husband-wife chats were drying up.
Inevitably,
this led to a few quarrels. Mr Brown grumbled about his wife not giving him
adequate time. Mrs Brown irritatingly countering by saying she’d had a hard
day, and she was tired …and the arguments took the oft treaded path of household tiffs...
This
left Billy more and more frustrated.
Then
one day, his son came home on a weekend. He, too, was more intent in chatting on his
smartphone with friends who were miles apart than chatting with his father who
was sitting across in the sofa! What was so interesting in chats through phones
– wondered Billy. So he asked. His son smiled and paused his chat.
“Are
you on Facebook papa?” - The son asked.
“No,
what’s so special about it?”
“It’s
a social networking platform. You can
connect with your friends, relatives, colleagues, anybody, right here from
where you are sitting and get to know every little detail of who’s doing what
through posts.”
“Can
you connect to old, long lost friends?”
“Of
course, only if they have a Facebook account. You can also share photos and
videos. You can share your feelings, your status, your joy, your sorrows …
everything.”
“Hmmm…”
– said Billy.
His
mind suddenly started racing. Molly Ray! Instantly, Molly’s imagery,
which he had built while at school, sprang up before his mind’s eye. Will
Molly be available on the Facebook? How would he recognize her? He’d never met
her or exchanged photos. They had communicated only through letters.
“How’d
you recognize long lost friends, say a school friend whom you never met in all
these years. He must’ve changed quite a bit” – asked Billy, now a little more
curious.
“Through
their profiles, Papa!” – Billy’s son was genuinely surprised and also sounded a
little irritable – “While you create your account, you also create your
profile, which lists your mini resume, your past, your school, college, workplace etc. Facebook automatically matches them and suggest friends for you. You won’t know till you actually are in it.
Interested?”
“Ummm…
well let’s give it a try” – said Billy, the picture of imaginary Molly still
looming large in his mind.
In
their desktop, Billy’s son helped him first by opening a Gmail account, and
then opened a Facebook profile attaching Dad’s Gmail account. He also taught Billy
the basics of Facebook. Billy was pleasantly surprised to discover Mrs Brown
there! He quickly sent a friend request to Mrs Brown and his son. The son
accepted it then and there, through his smartphone. He also helped him to form
a Family Group.
Billy
was quick to learn the trick of finding friends. He was delighted to discover
that it was much easier than he first thought.
Then to give it a try, in the friend search box, he typed ‘Saumil Pandey’– his best friend
in Engineering College. Facebook instantly listed more than ten Saumil Pandeys. But from the list he could very easily detect the Saumil he was looking for, through the profile
picture. He had now turned bald, had put on considerable weight, but was still distinctly
distinguishable through his thick drooping moustache, which had now turned
salt-pepper. Happily, Billy sent a friend request.
He
started ransacking his brain to recall names of his long lost friends… this
wasn’t a bad toy after all. In his next four attempts, he succeeded in finding
two of his mates, one from school and the other from college. He immediately
sent friends requests to all of them.
Within
half an hour, he got acceptance postings from the four requests he had sent a
little earlier. He was thrilled. Then he saw a message pop-up from the bottom of his
screen – Saumil had messaged him, live.
Thereafter
he engaged in general chats with a couple of his long lost friends. It was good
to catch up after so many years, but nothing great. Even while connected
remotely, Billy could sense that all the characters, whom he knew as his friends, had changed. They, for
whatever reason, weren’t the same persons that he knew in his school and
college days. Most of his queries were answered with some kind of aloofness,
covered in a frosty sheath of caution. Their queries were also very matter-of-fact type. He
started his chat with some expletives, which were part and parcel of their
lingos when they were in the college. He did not get similar reciprocation, which
surprised Billy all ends up. The chats were more sort of formal. They lacked the personal warmth...
Later
in the night, Billy typed ‘Molly Ray’ in the friend's search box, with some apprehension. At least three dozen Molly Rays sprang up, some with
faces, some devoid of them. For Billy, it made little difference, for he’d
never seen the real Molly, ever.
Yet
he carefully went through the Mollys. Most of them were young-looking and
either students or working somewhere. It struck Billy that Molly belonged
to his same age group. And if she was working, she must’ve retired, like him.
So he looked for a ‘retired Molly’. There were none…
Tad
disappointed he was wondering what to do next when it struck him that Molly Ray,
post marriage, need not have retained the same surname. She can be a Sharma,
Mishra, Gupta, Dutta, Ahluwalia…anything. If she at all got married that is.
This
was turning out to be a bigger problem than he thought. He started thinking
hard about some distinguishable feature to zero in on Molly, his Molly. Then he remembered, Molly
studied in Howrah Girls High School. So this time he typed, ‘Molly Howrah Girls
School’ in the search box. To his surprise, there were ten Mollys from Howrah
Girls School. Some of them still students. And none from his age group.
Slowly
it started to sink in his mind that Molly was lost forever from his life. For
all he knew, she could have been dead long back.
******
Not
being able to locate Molly Ray through Facebook, the very reason he’d opened
his account, dwindled Billy’s interest in Facebook rapidly. He started viewing
Facebook as more of a self-advertising pulpit than anything else. It was a
classic platform for narcissists, posting various photographs of themselves and
their families, describing every minute details of what they do throughout the
day. Eating out, travelling on business trips, travelling on pleasure trips,
feeling happy, angry, sad – everything was posted with monotonous regularity.
Soon Billy got bored with Facebook, big time.
He
started receiving a few mails into his newly opened Gmail account from his
friends. Even those failed to excite him. And then one day he received a mail
from one Ms Naina, with a subject line “Lonely Naina seeking your friendship”.
Lonely
Billy got interested in Lonely Naina. The moment he opened to mail, there were
pop-ups, right, left and centre of his desktop screen. One particular site –
lonelysingles.com – interested Billy.
The site had pictures of skimpily clad females in provocative poses.
Lonelysingles.com promised to end the loneliness of lonely singles, once
registered, by arranging suitable hookups with other lonely souls in the
planet, country, state and even the city…wow! Only Billy couldn’t quite figure
out why it required young skimpily dressed females to lure lonely singles…
He
clicked on lonelysingles.com. Instantly its home page opened, adorned with many
more provocative females adorned in raunchy graphics! The flamboyance of the site
made him a trifle nervous. He hadn’t seen a site like that ever before in his
rather short internet career! It also left him a little flabbergasted.
He
located two tabs, one labelled as ‘Sign In’ and the other ‘New User – Register’.
With
oblivious spontaneity, Billy clicked on the New User button and started
registering himself.
1. Option: The dropdown window gave many options, like, a man seeking a woman, a man seeking a
man, a woman seeking a woman, a man seeking a couple etc. With trembling
fingers, Billy selected ‘man seeking a woman’. Molly had been a woman after all…
2. Name:
That was easy. Billy typed his name with little more confidence than he had for
filling Option Dropdown options.
3. Gender:
Easier. But why was that necessary, thought Billy, once Option Dropdown was
filled. It was obvious that he was a man.
4. Age:
Billy filled up his birth date in the dd-mm-yyyy dropdown boxes. Once done, his
age flashed as 62. This sounded unacceptable even to Billy. He revisited the
dd-mm-yyyy drop down box and shaved off 27 years of his age. Now his age
flashed at an acceptable 35.
5. Sexual
orientation: Dropdown window gave three options, Billy chose ‘Straight’.
….as
Billy continued filling his profile, his confidence in this new-found game
increased rapidly. With tremendous alacrity, he filled up the rest of the profile, which was more
detailed than the longest CV he’d ever created. It
went into the details of his income, social status, hobbies and even the
kinkiness, if any, in his sexual desires (anal, threesomes, group sex,
role-plays) as well as his own endowments…
Billy
actually blushed as he filled in the details. Like his age, he also lied here
and there. He increased his endowment by a good two inches, described himself
as well built and fit, even chose his hair colour as dark while all he had for
hair on his skull were some sporadic growths which were also deserting him
swiftly…
And
then the portal asked for his photograph, which Billy promptly refused.
Pat
came a warning message on the screen – “Chances of hook-ups increases if you
post a photograph, you may reconsider your decision”.
This
made Billy think hard. What the portal said had some merit. Who would like to
build a relationship with a faceless entity? But uploading own picture was out of the question. So he went to Google Image, selected an image of a reasonably
handsome young male with Indian features and uploaded it…
Then,
he e-sauntered into the site with some trepidation. Again pictures of lots of
lonely singles invited him. It also showed a link on who was online. He clicked
there. The profile shortlisted a few names with a green LED like glow by their
sides, indicating that they were available, alive.
Billy
hesitated for a second, and then clicked on Sexysonam123 – who, if the portal
information is to be believed, is within 3 km of his radius, live and itching for a companion.
Billy
invited her for a private chat with a simple hi:
September
30, 2014, 2:33 pm
Hi
<Sorry Sexysonam123 did not
accept your chat request>
Billy
felt gobsmacked and even insulted to an extent. This was not in his
equation. Why would Sexysonam123 reject his chat request without any rhyme or
reason? She too was a lonely soul looking for partners, wasn’t she? Embarrassed,
he looked all around out of habit, only to realize that no one was watching
him, for he was alone at home.
Billy’s
next choice was Charulekha_horny.
This
time Billy chose to first go through the Lady’s profile…
Hmmm
… so Charulekha_horny was 37, divorced, had one grown-up child, believed in one
nightstand, sex was always in her mind, looking for friends with benefits…
Friends
with benefits! What exactly does that mean? Billy chose to explore. He pinged…
September
30, 2014, 2:40 pm
Hi
Billy
waited for a whole minute with bated breath for something to happen. There were
absolutely no movements from the other end. And then as he was about to switch over
to somebody else he saw on his screen:
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<Charulekha_horny
entered chat>
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Hi
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Hai
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What
do you do?
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F**k
around, you?
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I
work.
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Ha
ha … only work, no f**k ?
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I
am alone, so… Billy was at a loss for words
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So
u hlp urself wen ur horny? U ever get horny baby?
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Mmmm
… well …
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Wats
ur age?
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35…
Billy
replied, remembering his profile age
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Married?
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Separated
… you?
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Divorced silly. One kid. Dint u chk my prfle?
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Well,
not everything written in the profile is true, so I thought I’d ask.
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Whr
r u frm? Plc?
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Mumbai.
You?
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Pune.
Hey y dont u drv over to me????
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Drive,
to Pune?
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Ys
silly. Feeln lonly n horny. Whata u doin nw?
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Chatting with you. You?
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Don’t
f***ing act smart. Am lyin naked. Open your pants dude. Letz at least have
some cybersex.
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Cybersex!
What are you talking about?
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Don’t
f***ing behave as if you don’t f***ing know. Wanna see my p***y? Chk out, jst
sent you a pic…;). Send yours.
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Err…look
can we chat decent
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F***
Off…
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<Charulekha_horny
left the chat>
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It
took some time before he could come to terms to the female members of the
lonelysingles.com site. He logged out of the site for a while, but soon his
curiosity and loneliness got the better of him which forced him to log into the
site yet again … and again… and again…
In
the next few weeks, under the guise of a 35-year old virile and muscularly
built single, he interacted with a wide range of weirdly named females each
characteristically different from the other.
He
came across one kalpana4u who claimed to be a ‘docter’ – probably the only
doctor in the universe who did not know the correct spelling of her profession…
He
chatted with sexy_sanjana who was only interested in risqué expletives in wrong
English…
He
interacted with hungry_kavitha who genuinely seemed to be a doctor, but was willing
to sleep with him for some extra money which she needed desperately…
He
ran into one shivani69 who was interested in meeting him only if he brought
four other guys along – for she was only interested in group sex…
He
encountered one Sangi-f**k who first wanted to know how much Billy could spend
on her before she started her chat privately on skype…
He
ran into poormadhu who claimed she was held captive by her husband and son –
and wanted Billy to come in shiny armour and rescue her …
He
bumped into one natashasmith who had no pretensions about being a paid whore
and was willing to spend the night at his place for a price …
He
got frequent chat invitations from one gauri_sexy who enjoyed infidelity just
for the heck of it …
He
got in touch with a Bengali housewife - Droupadi – who like the mythological
character loved to simultaneously chat with four-five males, flaunting her
vital statistics, describing her private parts with graphical details…
Lascivious,
lecherous, treacherous, libidinous, unfaithful, sadistic, perverted … in a
matter of two weeks Billy Brown unlocked virtually all type of dark minds in
the opposite sex which he, even in his wildest dreams, couldn’t imagine having
existed…
There
were few who cared for decent companionship. It appeared to him as if the
whole world was cluttered with itchy-bitchy sex maniacs…
He
gradually got accustomed to the chat lingo and use of occasional expletives,
but he also got bored. One afternoon post-lunch he was listlessly he was
browsing through the site when the profile of a new member caught his eye.
Kiara
Rose. Age 23. Student. Not in a relationship. Bisexual. Hobbies: Poems and
erotica!
The profile picture was that of a young girl with a well-developed body in the
process of removing her jersey with her bra barely visible.
Interesting!
Interesting name … interesting profile … interesting picture …
Kiara
Rose appeared vastly different from the numerous other profiles that he’d
viewed in the past couple of weeks. He pinged him.
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Hi
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Billy waited with bated breath. Even
though he was quite used to chatting now, somehow he badly wanted to chat
with Kiara. After two or three seconds, Kiara pinged back
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<Kiara
Rose entered chat>
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Hi
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Wanna
chat dirty or decent?
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Depends on your mood. I’m game for both.
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Hmmm…Kiara
Rose…interesting name...
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Not
my real name, but I wish it was…
I
love the name… if i had the choice of selecting a name for myself again, it would be Kiara. Rose, coz i love roses (red roses to be specific)
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You
seem to be a romantic type. Are u into reading and writing poems?
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I
love poems. Do you?
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Yeah,
of course. Who doesn’t like poems? Don’t get much time though.
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And
what do you do Mr. Brown?
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I
am a mining engineer. I work for a multinational company.
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Not
working today? Or r u chatting frm the office?
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No,
no, I’m home today. Wasn’t keeping too well so decided to take a break. How about u?
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Our
college starts at 8:00 in the morning, and by two in the afternoon we are free. So r you married Mr Brown?
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I
am. But now separated.
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Oh,
I’m sorry. Why what went wrong? Mrs Brown frigid in bed or something ? ;)
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Hell,
no, no… nothing like that …it’s our mental differences, you know … the mental
wavelength thing
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Tch
tch … too bad. And after how many years of marriage, Mr Brown, may I ask.
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Ten
… ten years …Lies were coming out with relative ease now.
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Any
issues?
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Yeah,
one boy. Now 7 years.
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Suggest
you patch up with Mrs Brown. Fighting parents have a telling effect on kids.
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Tell
me something about you. Are you in a relationship?
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I
was. But I just broke up.
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That’s
awful. Why did you have to do that?
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He
doesn’t want to be bound into any kind of commitments. Whenever I talk of our future, he kind of avoids. After trying for five years I decided to dump him last month. It’s very painful, Mr Brown. I still can’t get him out of my mind.
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Look
Kiara, it seems u still hv a soft corner for the guy. Try and patch up. Maybe he’s got other priorities now. Maybe he’s got some responsibilities which are forcing him into behaving the way he’s doing.
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I’ll
take a note of your advice. But as of now, I want to concentrate only on my career, and nothing else. I’m doing my MBA in HR and Finance.
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Wow.
Kiara, now you r giving me a complex. I could never manage an admission in
MBA, even though the competition, then, was far lesser.
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And
when was that, Mr Brown, you sound as if you belong to pre-historic age…
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Billy quickly calculated. His portal age now is 35, so he should’ve done his graduation 13 years back. 12- 13 years before …
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That’s
not too long ago …
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Is
that you, Kiara, I mean the provocative lady in the profile picture? Billy decided to change course.
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Of
course not, do you think I’m a fool? And Kiara is not my real name either. I
am Rhea. Rhea Roy.
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Rhea
… very modern name … Roy – are you a Bengali? I have a Bengali friend who’s a
Roy.
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I’m
half Bengali. My mother is a Bengali. I have my roots in Calcutta but born and brought up in Hyderabad. And you? Is Billy Brown your real name?
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Well,
of course. What made you think it wasn’t? By the way, aren’t you scared to disclose so many personal details to a stranger like me?
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You
are a good person, I know that. You won’t cause any harm to me.
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And
may I ask how do you know that?
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My
intuitions. I’m usually right. Only Nikhil was a mistake.
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Nikhil?
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My
bloke with whom I broke up recently. But I’m sure you won’t be like Nikhil.
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Hey
hang on. You are not eyeing me as a replacement for your Nikhil, are you?
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Lol.
What’s wrong in that Mr Brown? As such you are not getting along with your wifey. I’m a decent girl.
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Billy was dumbstruck. He was way too older than Rhea and happily married. The girl must be joking.
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How’s
that possible?
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Why
not? Well where are you from?
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I
too had my roots in Bengal, a long, long time ago. Now settled in Mumbai.
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Mumbai
… Wow. City of my dreams. Been there twice. I too would like to settle there.
One more reason for me to go after you, Mr. Brown. Lol.
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That’s…that’s
preposterous. I’m not looking for any relationship. Not again. Billy thought it was cheeky of him to play the strained-relationship card on which he’d earlier lied.
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Ha
ha – I can see somebody’s nervous. Don’t worry Mr.Brown. I’m not gonna jump on your shoulders … not yet. Perhaps, we should share our phone numbers,
email ids and pictures first. What do you say?
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Email
id is fine. It’s too early to share phone numbers and pictures.
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Lol.
You are more scared than a girl Mr Brown. C’mon don’t be a sissy. Rhea_Roy91@yahoo.co.in – that’s my email id. What’s yours?
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It’s
Billybrown12345@gmail.com.
Keep emailing me. Honestly, I do not quite enjoy logging into this site
anymore.
|
|
Sure,
Mr Brown. I agree. Most males in this site are substandard sex maniacs. Not my type. Shall hookup through mails.
Gotta go now. Bye.
|
|
|
<Kiara
Rose left chat>
|
|
He
Googled for the meaning of Kiara. It was derived from Ciaran which in Gaelic
meant little dark one. Ciara or Kiara was the female form. As per the Urban
Dictionary Kiara meant a beautiful girl, always nice and funny who will always
cheer you up when you are sad. Also, a great person to be around, just someone
you have to love.
Thereafter,
regular chatting with Rhea Roy became a routine. Almost every afternoon, after
lunch, Billy Brown logged into the lonelysingles.com site and waited for Rhea
to join. He pretended to do it from his workstation at his office. If for some
reason, she failed to turn up, Billy pinged some other females. But he found nobody else who could match Rhea in intellect and wit. In the course of their
chats, they slowly explored and discovered each other. Rhea explained in great details
on her projects, her poems, her classmates, teachers and her ex-boyfriend –
Nikhil. Billy, on the other hand, narrated his experiences in Mining, his hostel
life, funny incidents involving his friends and mostly about his separated wife
and his current state of loneliness. All his stories related to his married
life were false, of course, aimed to invoke sympathy from Rhea.
Every
chat session, drew Rhea closer to Billy, bit by bit, even without her realizing
it. The chat sessions also started bordering around subtle eroticism. One day
Rhea even disclosed her physical relationship with Nikhil, at times a bit too
explicitly for Billy’s comfort. And then she started asking pointed questions
on his sex life, which Billy either avoided or lied.
Lonelysingles.com
site was also growing in popularity. Every day there were more and more new
members swarming in, which made the site slower and slower. Sometimes it took
more than a minute for a chat message to reach. Finally, one day they decided
to hookup through emails. They already had exchanged their email ids.
Inevitably,
the chat sessions with Kiara left Billy cheerful and buoyant. However, his mirth lasted
only until the time when Mrs Brown got back from work. These days, Mrs Brown
was always in a cross mood after the day’s work. A demanding boss, the Mumbai
traffic and the menopause which she’d recently attained all contributed to her
irritation – thought Billy.
She
also had to do all household chores. Billy had never cooked. His knowledge of
cooking was limited to boiling eggs and – after the tea bags appeared in the
market – brewing tea. This he did by boiling water in an electric kettle, for
Mrs Brown would never allow him to turn on the gas stove. Also, Mrs Brown was
quite fussy on operating the washing machine – she’d never allowed him to operate that.
She was sure that if she allowed him to do some household work, he would cause
more damage than help. If Billy operated the washing machine, he
would definitely mix the coloured clothes with the white ones, he would
definitely not add the right quantity of washing powder, he would not set the
soak-timing properly. She was also obsessed with cleanliness. Every day all
floors had to be swept and mopped. All furniture had to be dusted. All
upholstery vacuumed. If any day the household help – an elderly Maharashtrian
maid – failed to report for work, Mrs Brown turned hysterical. And such days
were not infrequent. Unannounced absenteeism was one trick which is religiously
played by all house-maids irrespective of their caste, creed or religion in
Indian cities. However, that did not deter Mrs Brown to slacken her obsession
towards maintaining cleanliness. If the maid did not turn up, she herself would
take up the broom and mop and clean the floors – which, Billy thought, was
totally unnecessary. This added to her pressures and ultimately her health and
ill-temper.
That
morning the maid had bunked. After dinner, Mrs. Brown quickly cleaned up the
table and retired early. Sex had long gone into hibernation from the Browns’
bedroom. Neither of them felt any urge to make love any more. Their
conversations were limited to nothing but general household discussions.
Billy
Brown looked at his wife’s sleeping countenance and felt a pang of guilt. Was
he cheating on his wife? – He questioned himself. He wasn’t sure whether chatting
with unknown females over the net in a disguised identity and lying right, left
and center on his marital status amounted to cheating or not. Much as he
tried to keep the guilt out of his mind, it kept crawling back. Strangely, he felt
a strong urge to go back to the computer and surf all the same.
Mrs.
Brown was fast asleep which was evident from the soft snoring sound. Billy
tip-toed out of the bedroom and sat on his desktop. He quickly logged into his
email account and was delighted to discover a mail – from Rhea Roy.
The
mail was sent at 6:35 pm.
He
clicked on the mail.
Sent: Friday, 24 April, 6:35 pm
Sub: A distant star twinkling in
the night sky
Dear Mr. Brown,
Chatting
with you was really rejuvenating. It seems at last I have found someone who
shares common interest with me. Something tells me that you can be trusted. I
am more than happy to have you in my contacts.
Hoping we will stay in touch and not carelessly lose each other’s company.....
And then she went on with a poem on
a distant star in a chilly night, yet providing the warmth for she related the
star to her long lost love whatever whatever…
Billy read and re-read the poem
three-four times, but failed to comprehend it in its totality. However, the text seemed to be good, and so
the choice of words. From his chats it was obvious that the girl was conclusive in her belief that Billy was into
poems and all.
This
left Billy in a spot of bother. He was determined to impress Rhea, so, he must
frame a suitable reply. Best would be to reply with a poem. But Billy knew,
it would take more than a lifetime for him to churn out a few lines. Mrs Brown
liked poems. Then he remembered she’d shared a poem with him and his son a
few days back through WhatsApp. He didn’t read it though. Suddenly, with all the urgency of the
world, he flicked through his mobile for the old WhatsApp message from his
wife. Huh – there it was. This was written by one Mary Elizabeth Frye. He read
that twice and thought it was quite okay. In fact after the third reading, he
found it good, and after the fourth, he thought it was great!
He
hit the reply button in Rhea’s mail and typed, laboriously:
Sent: Friday, 24 April, 11.05 pm
Sub: Re: A distant star twinkling
in the night sky
Dear Rhea,
You wrote that? OMG (His
numerous chat sessions had already made him chat-abbreviation savvy) … this is unbelievable. You are one hell of
a talented young lady. I’m sure you are one of those topper types. I did not
understand what you meant by "carelessly lose each other’s
company..."
Wish you could've been little more specific honey. But then, deciphering girls had been an age old mystery...and will continue to be so…
Wish you could've been little more specific honey. But then, deciphering girls had been an age old mystery...and will continue to be so…
Since
you like poems, here is one poem which I particularly like. No it’s not written
by me … I’m not half as talented as you. This was penned by the famous Ms
Elizabeth Mary Frye (Billy wasn’t sure whether Ms Frye was
indeed so famous or not, but what the hell! And if Mrs. Brown liked it, it must
be good! He went on to type out the poem in the whatsapp message sent by his
wife, word by word)
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Dunno why, these days i feel very bereft of everything. Probably that's the reason i like the above poem ... where the poet shows hope even in bereavement!
You mentioned you loved erotica. How can somebody who is so deeply in love with poetry and literature also indulge in pornography? Do you write erotic stories also?
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Dunno why, these days i feel very bereft of everything. Probably that's the reason i like the above poem ... where the poet shows hope even in bereavement!
You mentioned you loved erotica. How can somebody who is so deeply in love with poetry and literature also indulge in pornography? Do you write erotic stories also?
You wished me a happy weekend, but
let me tell you nowadays I hate weekends. It only compounds my melancholy. On
weekdays, at least I am busy with my work. While the world rejoices in weekend,
I weep within myself. I long for the Monday to arrive. Anyway ...screw the
self-pity. Now that you have come into my life, it ain’t gonna be so lonely I
guess…
Billy
paused. He re-read the last line and found it a little too explicit. He
rephrased it as:
Now that I have you as my friend,
life on weekends will not be so boring and lonely I guess…
Well, it’s quite late now. I hope you
are peacefully asleep, dreaming about your loved ones.
Best Regards,
Billy Brown.
Billy
logged out and went to bed. Mrs. Brown was still sleeping, curled up in a fetal
pose and clutching a pillow. She looked peaceful and contented. He looked at
his wife of 33 years. When they were married, she was only 23 years – just
about Rhea’s age. She was quite attractive with her round face and a mop of
curly locks that gave her a doll like appearance. She had a permanent glowing
tan, and rather long limbs – a rarity amongst Indian girls. She had been a
devoted wife and an excellent mother. Till today, for her, the family was
everything. Her biggest entertainments were family dinner and family outing.
Their son was now independent and lived in Pune. Yet she would rather wait for
him to get back on weekends and go for a family dinner together at some
restaurant, than go only with her husband alone.
Billy
felt the guilt pricking again. He lied down beside his wife and slept fitfully.
Billy
waited for the weekend to pass, so that he could once again be home alone and
resume his chat and email sessions.
On
Monday, after Mrs. Brown left for work, the first thing he did was to switch on
the desktop and log into his email.
He
expected mails from Rhea and he wasn’t disappointed. The mail in his inbox was
having a few attachments.
Sent: Saturday, 25 April, 2:35 pm
Sub: Planning a new erotica.
Dear Mr. Brown,
Thanks for sharing Madame Frye’s
poem. I absolutely loved it. It shows that I was right in assessing you as a
person. You are a sensitive, caring and romantic individual – my type. I think
our wavelengths have matched, and we shall rock together. And you are handsome
too. So what if you are a tad older? I’d love to have you as my friend, forever.
I feel blessed to have a friend like
you and would like to have you as a friend who would never break my trust,
that's what I meant by "carelessly lose each other’s company". And I know
you won't.
And what exactly do you mean by
‘deciphering girls’ Mr. Brown? Sorry to say, but your choice of words are inappropriate
when it comes to judging the female psychology, because, there's really nothing
to decipher. Let me tell you women have brain cells that help them in thinking
and doing multiple things at a time, whereas the men have single celled brains
that enable them think only one thing at a time. Women are natural
multi-taskers, whereas men have single track mind, and that’s why men find
women mysterious and complex.
Oh, yes I love erotica, but not
those ‘Mast-Ram’ types – which are available at the country side street corners.
Erotica does not necessarily mean pornography. D.H.Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterly’s
Lover” was once an erotica, is now regarded as a classic. Same is true for
Vladimir Nobokov’s “Lolita”. Have you read them? I would also recommend Irving
Wallace’s “The Seven Minutes” – which would clear your misconception about
erotica.
Amongst the modern day authors –
have you read E.L.James? I recommend you read “The Fifty Shades of Grey” by Ms
James. It’s available online. It’s the first of the Grey trilogy and it’s
amazing! I am submissively in love with the protagonist hero – Christian Grey.
I’ve read it many times. Every time I did, I imagined myself to be Anastasia Steele
whom Mr. Grey loved, enslaved, dominated and playfully persecuted. Domination
in bed turns me on. How about you, Mr. Brown? Who’d been the dominating partner
in bed, you or Mrs Brown?
By the way, after I started
communicating with you I’m feeling a bit naughty. And whenever I feel naughty, I
resort to erotica. I am planning to write an erotica with you as a protagonist.
Would you mind, Mr. Brown? Would you be my Christian Grey in real life?
Hope you are having an exciting
weekend. I know you are alone, so go out – eat, drink and make merry. Make life
exciting. Hey, why don’t you fly over to Hyderabad one weekend, Mr. Brown?
Let me now tell you, like you, my
parents are separated and divorced. I live with my Dad. My Sunday’s are
reserved for my Dad. No laptops, no work, no studies, no messaging, no nothing.
I am attaching three pictures of
mine. The first one is a selfie solo pic. The second one was at a resort which
we visited along with some of my college friends, and the last one is with
Nikhil – my ex, on the day I’d graduated.
Love and hugs (in a friendly way)
Rhea.
Billy
clicked on the first attachment. A picture of a young and rather attractive
damsel wearing a crimson sleeveless evening gown blossomed on his screen. Her
skin was a light brown and eyes were so dark that they glittered like polished
onyx, surrounded with thick lashes. She was slightly overweight that could be
managed with diet and exercise. She had thick black straight hair flowing
copiously over her rather broad shoulders. She had a soft stomach – which had a
tendency to bulge out with age if she wasn’t careful, and large breasts. Her
white pearl necklace – quite in contrast to her skin and her crimson dress –
nestled carelessly over her ample breasts only helped in pronouncing the
cleavage. Rather provocative – thought Billy.
He
opened the second picture – she was easily distinguishable in a group of girl
and boys in a fun-park – in her jeans and red tees.
In
the third picture she was wearing the black graduation robe and the cap and she
had a somber looking well-built young man with sleepy eyes by her side. So that
was Nikhil – Rhea’s ex.
Billy
was dumfounded. Was this girl falling for her? Is she building a castle of
dreams around the muscular and handsome man whose picture he’d used as the
profile photo? The handsome lonely soul, engineer, reasonably well to do, who
shared common interests?
Oh
my God, Billy realized that he was cheating not one but two women at a time.
Some achievement for a retired 62 year old!
But
he was not ready to give up – not yet. This Rhea episode had come like a fresh
whiff of air in his otherwise sedate and boring life. He could feel a fresh
flow of testosterone through his system, causing his heart to pump more rapidly
than usual. Billy was on a hypertension drug since long. He was sure that in spite
of having his daily doses, his BP had gone up by a few notches after this Rhea
episode. But what the hell! As Rhea said in her mail – what’s life without a
little excitement?
He
went to Google and typed “Fifty Shades of Grey online”…
For
the next two hours, Billy glimpsed through the pdf version of E.L.James’ “Fifty
Shades of Grey”. He found it abhorring. This was not the first time Billy was
exposed to pornography – he’d read them during his college days for their
hostels were flooded with pornographic stuff. Graphical description of plain
lovemaking between a man and woman – regardless of the relations they share –
was something digestible. But he found what was written in Ms. James’
book to be utterly distasteful. It was all about domination of an
obnoxiously rich man over a willful woman – Anastasia Steele – in bed, whom she
actually binds through a contract. A contract for bondage, blinding and
fucking! With the woman actually enjoying it! Which modern day female would
allow such submission just for the sake of sex? Would she have enjoyed if
Christian Grey was not super rich living in super luxury condos and flying in
private aircrafts, but a common man with ordinary looks but superior loving
capabilities? Billy opted out of the
site after reading about one third of the book for he could not sustain any
more of it.
Billy
was getting more and more convinced that Rhea and he were more different than
chalk and cheese.
He
logged into his email, and clicked the reply button to Rhea’s latest mail.
Sent: Monday, 27 April, 13:13 pm
Sub: Re: Planning a new erotica
Dear Ms.Rose,
Hope you had a grand Sunday with
your Daddy. Didn’t know your parents were divorced. Sorry about that.
As for me, I did nothing. Just
lazed around and hoped it passed quickly. No, I did not venture out and seek
excitement per your advice. I am very choosy about my companions. I just cannot
socialize with anybody and everybody. With you around, it could have been
different though. But geographically I think we are a thousand kilometers
apart.
Boy, you are quite a dish! I hope
you won’t mind my saying that. I kept ogling at your selfie for hours together.
That Nikhil chap must be a fool, to have let go a girl like you so easily. You
are one of the rare combinations of beauty and brains. However, may I ask you
what made you share your pictures with me? You don’t even know me properly. A
word of advice, Ms. Rose – please don’t trust strangers so easily and post your
pictures to anybody and everybody. The pictures can be mal-utilized big time.
I haven’t read all those books
you’d recommended, but I did go through “Fifty Shades of Grey”. Honestly I
didn’t find it very interesting. Rather, at times I found it disgusting. My
idea of loving is way apart from those kinky stuffs the author made her
protagonists do. And worst of all, Anastasia was enjoying it. I do not see how
a girl like you having logical opinions and feministic sparks idolizes a kinky dud
like Christian Grey. I found him debauched and dark.
Sorry, I have no intentions of
becoming your Mr Grey.
Mr Brown respects Ladies. He likes
to handle them with utmost care and not use them like doormats like you Mr Grey. He
likes to love and be loved, but he also likes to keep a sharp divide between
pleasure and pain.
By all means use me as your
protagonist in your erotica. But do not make me perform those masochistic
activities like your revered Mr Christian Grey.
Love (friendly)
William Brown.
Sent: Monday, 27 April, 6:45 pm
Sub: Re Re Planning a new erotica.
Dear Mister William Brown,
Why did you have to address me as
Ms. Rose when you knew my real name? Do you find Kiara Rose sexier?
Please stop worrying about my
pictures Billy boy. I know you are a harmless man and will not misuse my pics.
I also know whom to post and whom not to. Stop playing the role of big Daddy. I
would rather imagine you as my lover!
I must say you have no idea, Mr Brown, on the sexual behaviors and desires of a woman. As a matter of fact,
assertive and dominant women prefer to hand over the reins in the bed and enjoy
dominations. But the reverse is not always true. Socially dominant women – the
typical type A females - enjoy sexual submission fantasies more than other
women. So what you considered as
persecution in bed, may actually turn out to be more pleasurable ;). Say what
Mr. Brown, come out of your gentle garb and try out a little masochism – next
time you make love to your wife – if you make love to your wife that is… Mrs Brown may actually love it.
If I ever meet you, Billy, I’m
gonna eat you. I’m gonna teach you all the arts and sciences of treating a
female. You found Christian Grey dark. But remember, Brown is a darker shade
than Grey. I will see to it that Mr. William Brown turns out darker than Mr.
Christian Grey in bed.
However, as of now, I shall respect your wish. I have started writing the much awaited erotica. You are my hero,
but relax – I shall not taint your character by forcing masochism on him. Not
yet. I shall reserve it for some time in future, when I convince you about
controlled sadism in bed. Billy Brown – I’m quite fascinated by the name. So I chose to retain your real name; hope
will not have any objections to that. Besides, there are thousands of William Browns
around the world.
I have two titles in mind for the story but not sure which one
would do more justice to it.
I've written 20 pages in two hours and still have more to add to
it!!! Writing after a long time so I just hope it turns out as good as you are
expecting it to be.
Feeling it as I’m thinking about
you and writing it. Omg,
Mr. Brown, you are turning me into a horny li’l bitch as I write…
Hugs and kisses,
Yours
Kiara Rose.
Billy
went through the mail three-four times, and then sat like a zombie. He could
sense that this girl was completely mesmerized by the virtual Billy Brown –
which was a far cry from his real self. Something, he sensed, was not right.
Billy
Brown discovered the next mail from Rhea Roy sitting quietly in his mailbox
next day after Mrs. Brown left for work. The mail had a pdf attachment.
He
opened the mail.
Sent: Tuesday, 28 April, 2:14 am
Sub: My new erotica – enjoy
Dear Billy,
Enclosing my new erotica. Hope you
find this … err … stirring.
I am not ashamed to admit that
writing this made me very, very excited, and my longing for you has increased
manifold. I did ...err...self stimulate myself thinking of you!
I must thank you Mr. Brown for helping
me to come out of the depression after I threw Nikhil out of my life. The
incident had left me scarred and listless which started affecting my studies. I
had been a topper all through my career, but after Nikhil left, my grades
started falling. I had lost all interest in completing my projects, and it
started reflecting in my performance. Then suddenly you came in my life.
It doesn’t matter, Mr. Brown, if
you are married or not. It doesn’t matter even if you are older than what your
profile says. It also doesn’t matter if that bloke in the picture is not the
real you. What matters most is that in you I have found a true friend. I have
found a shoulder where I can lean upon when I’m down and out. I know, whenever
I’m in distress, you will always be there with your helping hand. You are a
person I can trust my life with. Am I wrong in my assessment Billy? Don’t tell
me yes, for that will break my heart.
Also, I honestly want you to go
back to Mrs Brown – at least for the sake of your boy. Nobody knows better
than me how it feels when parents are separated. I had gone through it myself.
I really don’t care if you patch up with your wife – only I request you to be
available for me, whenever I need you. Be there as a friend, guide and yes,
lover. I do not know whether you still have any soft corner for your wife, and
I really don’t care even if you have. All I want from you is attention – no
matter even it is a divided attention.
Let me tell you now, my Mom has
remarried and is settled in Mumbai. I’d visited her before. I have an open
invitation from her to visit Mumbai anytime I wish to. I intend to come down to
Mumbai after my exams – won’t you meet me then, Mr William Brown?
For now – enjoy my new story – “The
Champagne”
Love and kisses,
Only yours,
Rhea Rose
Billy
click-opened the pdf attachment.
The
story titled “The Champagne”. Billy read the story with unceasing breath in one go. It was
simply unputdownable. Words flowed with mellifluous fluidity. The buildup was
titillating and suspenseful, and the climax was uninhibited. The structure of
the story followed the same pattern as in their cyber-friendship…
The
female protagonist – Kiara Rose – was a working lady, single, talented and
provocative. She gets acquainted with William Brown through a social networking
site. Interestingly, unlike the virtual William who was only 35, the William in
her story was much older – above 50 – who had a history of heart attack, and a
disrupted marriage. Much in the same pattern as Billy had described through the
various sessions of chats. One evening, after a hard day’s work, Kiara engages
herself with a chat session with William, enjoying a glass of French champagne
which she’d acquired during her last business trip to Paris. In course of the
chat, she drinks a glass too many, until the champagne gets the better of her.
Their chats turn erotic, and at one point of time she suggests they talk over
phone, instead. William calls up only to discover a provocative and husky voice
waiting hungrily at the other end. The gradually start talking dirty and end up
having a violent session of phone sex – all the while, Kiara taking the role of
dominant partner and ordering William his moves…
When
they are done, they mull over the beautiful feeling they’d just experienced.
Kiara promises to get back again on Friday evening with another glass of
champagne. She orders William to be available and charged up for the next
session …She had a limitless stock of champagne...The story ends there.
Content
wise, Billy found this to be better than “The Fifty Shades…” and definitely
more erotic. Rhea Roy was conclusively talented.
However,
Billy was not elated. He did not like the tone of the mail that carried the
attachment. The girl was slowly but steadily falling for him – more as a refuge
or a substitution in the virtual world till she gets her next beau. She really
did not bother about Billy’s age. What made her age William beyond 50 in her
tale? Billy always maintained he was only 35. Was this some kind of uncanny
hunch that girls are said to have? She was looking for a relationship, and that definitely was not
acceptable. She was even ready if Billy continued with dual relationships –
both with her and his wife! And worst of all, she had a connection in Mumbai.
Her own Mom lived here.
He
started this as a pastime game – to relieve himself from his ennui in the long
lonely afternoons. But he never expected such turn of events. He decided to
play low key and refrained from replying immediately. He simply logged out and
switched off his desk-top.
That
evening Mrs. Brown returned from work with a high fever. She was barely able to
walk. Somehow she entered the apartment and flopped on her bed. Billy was
concerned, but Mrs Brown was more concerned on how the household will run with
her being bedridden. What would Billy eat for dinner? Who would do the dishes?
Would Billy be able to do the laundry? There were no vegetables or fish in the
fridge, who was going to stock it up – and without the fridge stocked up Billy
would have to live on dal-rice! What would their son eat when he visits them over
the weekend? Even while sick, all Mrs. Brown could think of was of Billy
and their son…
Billy
called on the doctor, who diagnosed it as a viral attack. He prescribed
paracetamols and vitamins, and advised increased fluid intake. The fever should
not be allowed to shoot up, so he advised head-baths with normal tap water and application
of wet sponge on her forehead. If the fever did not ebb in next 3 days – he
advised a few tests to rule out infection.
Billy
felt very sorry for the wife. He was not used to see Mrs. Brown sick – for she
never fell sick. He looked at his wife, now lying straight on her bed, her face
rubicund with the body heat. She was in a semi-conscious state, yet mumbling utterings
like “Tonight you will have to manage with dal-rice … there’s some left over in
the fridge … also there’s milk and cornflakes … you like cornflakes and cold
milk, don’t you …stop worrying … I’ll be okay tomorrow… ”
His
old guilt weighed heavy on him. Somehow, he felt, he was responsible for his
wife’s sickness. This somehow is a consequence to his sins of cheating on his
devoted wife. He pleaded his wife to keep quiet and try to sleep…
Throughout
the night Billy sat beside his wife, sponging her forehead and monitoring her
body temperature every couple of hours and administering paracetamol every four
hours. She slept fitfully, occasionally waking up and reprimanding Billy for
not sleeping.
Towards
the dawn, only after her fever ebbed, did Billy sleep for a while.
Mrs.
Brown, however, was in bed rest for the next four days. Much to the chagrin of
his wife, Billy did not allow her to get up even for the smallest of reasons.
For the first time in his life he managed to cook khichri for their meals after
taking step-by-step instructions from the wife. He also did the laundry, dried
and folded the washed clothes, got them pressed through the local press-wallah,
and even bought fish, veggies and fruits before their son visited them on
Friday evening. Luckily, the house maid did not bunk – so he did not have to
sweep or mop.
Mrs.
Brown, still weak from the violent viral fever, managed to shrug off the
initial concern on how her husband will manage household chores while she was
ill and slowly started enjoying the grind that Billy was going through.
On
Friday she managed to walk around the apartment but Billy forced her away from
any household work. At bedtime, Mrs. Brown drew herself closer to Billy and
said,
“It’s
good I fell ill”
“Why
do you say that? I was so worried.”
“There’s
a good side of everything. The last four days help you grow-up”
“I
always maintained I could manage the household chores. Only you never allowed
me. You always thought I’d damage everything. I am not a kid” – Billy grunted.
Mrs.
Brown drew more closer, rested her chin on Billy’s chest and said,
“Oh
you are. A big kid! But now the kid is growing up. All these days I kept
worrying on what will happen to you if something ever happens to me; now I know
you can manage, I can die in peace.”
“Don’t
ever say that” – said Billy, clasping his palm over her lips – “I’ll be
finished without you. Chronologically, I am supposed to go before you. I prefer
it that way.”
“Shut
up” – said Mrs. Brown and planted a kiss on Billy’s lips.
They
kissed after, what it seemed like, eons!
Next
Monday, after Mrs. Brown left for work, Billy opened his mail-box. There was a
flurry of mails from Rhea Roy waiting for him. He opened them chronologically.
Sent: Tuesday, 28 April, 10:17 pm
Sub: Fw:My new erotica – enjoy
Dear Billy-boy,
I was grossly disappointed to find
no mail from you in my inbox. Did you go through “The Champagne?” I expected a
mail with your comments, however, I am willing to give you benefit of doubt.
You must’ve had a busy day and didn’t get time to open your mailbox. I’m dying
to get your feedback.
I value your comments – you mean so
much to me now.
Hugs and kisses
Rhea.
***
Sent: Wednesday, 29 April, 3:35 pm
Sub: Fw Fw My new erotica – enjoy
Dear Mr. Brown,
It seems you still did not get time
to read my piece. The boss has overloaded you with work or what? Say what –
chuck the job and look for some other opportunities. You deserve better. Ever
since I wrote the story, you are always on my mind. And there’s one more thing
with which my mind is occupied 24x7. Sex. I badly want to get laid.
Erotically yours,
Ms. Rose.
***
Sent: Thursday, 30 April, 1:15 am
Sub: This is mean…
Mr. Brown,
This is very mean of you. Here I am
dying to hear from you, and there you have completely eradicated Ms. Rose from
your mind. You don’t seem to care for anything or anybody, do you? You are too
f***ing engrossed with your own self. Why would you care if a poor li’l girl
spent sleepless nights in Hyderabad?
Are you upset with me Mr. Brown,
for using your character in my erotica? I know you are a purist by nature, one
of your many traits that I admire. If you are, I promise not to use you ever in
any of my stories. I will also change the name of my male protagonist in “The
Champagne” if you so wish. But please reply.
Yours,
Kiara.
***
Sent: Friday, 1 May, 2:14 am
Sub: IS EVERYTHING OK?
Dear Billy,
Is everything okay? I have a
feeling something’s wrong somewhere. How’s your health? Oh hell, why the f**k
haven’t I kept your cell number. Mine is 8227950509. If you see this mail, can
you give me a call, please? I am worried stiff. You stay alone, do you need
help? Omg how’m I gonna help you from here? I also tried the Lonelysingles.com
site to look for you, but you weren’t there either. Do you have good neighbors
who can help you when you are indisposed? I pray to God so that everything’s
okay.
Love
Rhea.
***
Sent: Saturday, 2 May, 11:11 pm
Sub: I am coming to Mumbai
Mr. Brown,
Are you avoiding me or has
something happened to you? I am very worried.
This afternoon I spoke to my Mom. I
told you earlier – she’s remarried and settled in Worli, Mumbai. I talked to
her about you. I told her that you are an old friend – nothing more than that. Should
you need any help – and I’m sure you need - please call her. She’s Mrs. Molly
Khandelkar – 9820179796.
Next Friday is a holiday. I plan to
use the extended weekend to travel to Mumbai. You mentioned in one of your
early chat sessions you lived in Goregaon East, in a locality called Gokuldham.
I would definitely see you there.
Please reply Billy – I am unable to
concentrate on anything till I hear from you.
Lovingly yours,
Rhea.
***
Billy
was stupefied!
The
least what he expected was Rhea visiting Mumbai. Her mother – now re-married –
Mrs Molly Khandelkar lives in Worli. Long, long ago there was a Molly in his
life. Molly Ray – his pen-friend in school.
The
deceitful game that he’d now got involved also started with his quest for the
long-lost pen-friend, Molly.
To
break his ennui, he’d surfed for Molly – only to end up in enrolling in a
sex-site and get entangled with one Rhea Roy – alias Kiara Rose…
Rhea
… Rhea Roy! Molly Ray!
Billy
knew, Ray and Roy is a common Bengali surname – which essentially was one and
the same. Ray was often spelt as Roy and vice-versa.
Is
it possible that Rhea was the daughter of Molly Ray – his Molly from his schooldays?
A
long-shot – but possible. Or it could just be a coincidence? He can easily find
that out now. Solution to the mystery was just a phone call away…
Rhea
had indeed mentioned once that she was half-Bengali and had her roots in
Calcutta!
Strangely,
Billy never felt the urge to call up Mrs. Molly Khandelkar and enquire. Even if
Mrs. Khandelkar happen to be his long lost pen-friend Molly Ray, they had
travelled huge distances through divergent paths in their lives. Trying to
converge them would only create complications. Best would be to bury the past in
the sands of time…
Billy
sat like a statue for a while, trying to assess his next move. There was no
doubt that Rhea Roy had madly fallen for him. It was evident from her mails
which reflected her possessiveness and her genuine worry for him. But why –
wondered Billy. Was it because of the name? Was it because of his profile? A
lonely well-to-do person, separated, having own car and place in Mumbai looking
for companionship – sounded romantic. Or was it because of the present mental
state of Rhea – after the break-up with her boyfriend?
He
mulled over his next move for a while before energizing his computer, which had
gone on a sleep mode, to send out a reply – which he knew was going to be the
last mail from Billy Brown to Rhea Roy …
Sent: Monday, 4 May, 3:30 pm
Sub: Dear Rhea…
Dear Rhea,
Just went through all your mails.
Please do not be perturbed, I’d been fine. Hale and hearty as ever.
First let me compliment you on the
excellent story. You are a talented young lady and a natural writer…In fact I rate
you better than your E.L.James!
I found you refreshingly different
right from the time we first chatted in that weird sex site. We clicked as
friends, and honestly, I wanted to keep it that way. But from your last few
mails, I noticed the friendship level from your side has taken a new turn. You
are getting mentally involved with me, which I think is improper.
I think the real reason behind this
is your break up with Nikhil. There is no doubt you still love him. He gets a
mention in all your correspondences. You even shared his photo with me. Quite a
good looking young man, I must say. Much more handsome than me, I must admit.
Let me tell you here, the guy you see in my profile picture is not me. I am not
that good looking – just average. Besides, I am much older, married, and have
many responsibilities. Not a very bankable option for you, I daresay. On the
other hand – look at Nikhil. You know him for the past five years. He’s just
about your age, perhaps a tad older. I am sure he is yet to be settled in his
life, and that, in all probability, is the reason behind his remaining
non-committal. But remember, despite that, he stuck with you. It’s you who
dumped him, right?
Let me share a secret with you
here. Indian men, in general – strong as they appear from outside – are really
weak mentally. Practically all men from the middle and even upper middle class
think five times before willfully taking any responsibility. Almost all of them
would first like to settle in life and then get married. I too was no
different. I started working when I was twenty three – but got married only
when I was twenty nine – that too after a lot of persuasion from my Mom. I
suppose this is the exact reason behind Nikhil’s apathy towards a commitment.
Suggest, you give him some more time.
And if it still doesn’t work out,
give a damn. You are beautiful, young, educated, intelligent and talented. You
are also confident. So why worry? Concentrate on building a career – and you
shall have a beeline of suitors craving for your hand.
As mentioned before, nothing had
happened to me, so I need not seek any help from your Mommy. I am delighted you
decided to visit Mumbai. If not anything, it will at least give you the
opportunity to catch up with your Mom after, I suppose, a long gap. Parent –
even if he or she lives separately – is a parent. There can be no substitute for
a Mom or Dad, trust me. Please talk to your Mom regarding Nikhil, and I’m sure
she would give you the same advice as mine.
By all means come to Mumbai and
spend time with your Mom, but I will not be there for you. Certain things are
best forgotten, hope you understand. I realized that inadvertently I had
invaded you in your dreams, your imaginations and your fantasies. Subconsciously
you were getting yourself entangled in a preposterous relationship that could
never work out, which at the end of the day would only bring bigger traumas in
your life.
Please consider my advice
carefully, as that from a fairly matured person, and move on with life.
After I send out this mail, my mail
account will cease to exist. I shall also delete my account from the
Lonelysingles.com site. Billy Brown, from this day will be eradicated from your
life, forever.
And yes, before I end, your story
ended with a hint of sequel. Please leave poor Mr. Brown out of it. He has no
intention of competing with Mr. Grey – in all fairness or should I say darkness.
Wishing you a fulsome life ahead,
Best regards,
William ‘Billy’ Brown.
***
I
switched off the desk-top, got up and stretched back. I was feeling a bit
tired, but immensely relieved and pleased.
I
managed to remove William ‘Billy’ Brown from my life forever…
He
had been with me ever since I was in my ninth standard! Molly Ray did not pay
any heed to me, but did respond to one Billy Brown and accept his request for
pen-friendship. Ever since then, Billy Brown had been a part of me, until
today. It had been a long association, but I was relieved that Billy had gone…
finally…
I
was so relieved that I wanted to celebrate. I called up a nearby restaurant –
which by my standard was pretty expensive – and booked two seats for a
candlelit dinner. Then I called up wifey and informed her about our dinner
plan. As usual she started to protest, stating thousands of reasons as to why
it wasn’t a good idea – but I paid no heed and calmly disconnected the call.
Later
in bed, I kissed my wifey of 33 years again, like never before. And then one
thing led to another and another and another …
Even
I was surprised with the violence that I’d displayed…
After
we were done, wifey cooed in my ears,
“What’s
the matter with you today? You’d never been so rough before?”
“Did
you like it or not?” – I asked, panting softly.
“Of
course I liked, you stupid.” – She paused, and then asked, “But may I know the
reason for the celebration?”
“Today
I lost one of my very close associate. William Brown. You won’t know him.”
“That’s
insensitive. I thought losing somebody calls for mourning, not celebration.”
“Depends
on how you view it. Death also means attaining Nirvana – you are a voracious
reader, didn’t you read that somewhere? No go to sleep” – I yawned.
*****
Barmer,
June 2015
