He saw her somewhere across the street. Her presence took Sarim over with a deep sensation; but before this sensation, he felt a void, a moment when you stop feeling the world around you; where you stop feeling whether you are alive or life is just an illusion. After that feeling comes a feeling of euphoric orgasm, which, no words on paper have ever succeeded to explain. It was her face, smiling, laughing and forming the perfect countenance among the dark brown of her hair with traces of golden streaks. He could see it, the face, across the street, through the mist gathering on the windshield of his car. His foot immediately released the gas paddle and indulged in most sudden of the brakes that could be pulled in such a downpour. Sarim thrust his door open and started walking towards the lady. Right in the middle of the road he turned around and started walking back to his car with a curse, ‘Damn!’ hurled on himself. He entered his car; now wet and dripping all over, slapped the steering wheel with his palms and shouting with clenched teeth, ‘What a fool, what a fool, argh!’ He started the engine again and couldn’t stop cursing himself again, ‘How could I fall for a mere illusion of her? How?’ He breathed out and continued, ‘I should stop thinking over this now! Right now! Atleast now or I would live in her thoughts for the rest of my life.’
By now he had reached his office. ‘Wow! Someone has been enjoying some rain out there I suppose’, was the welcoming response by the receptionist upon seeing him. She was in her early twenties; a presentable figure for an office receptionist; presentable, or made presentable through a sweet makeup and neat hair in the bun. Knowing that she was working her way up to fund her studies, Sarim had been now planning to ask her out; owing to his ability to fall for almost every other walking thing known as a woman; and now he was standing infront of her dripping in all over in his grey office suit. Even his bright white shirt had turned blue after being soaked in his little adventure, not to mention the necktie which had formed itself into a grotesque dead snake. ‘Excuse me for a while Nina’, he marched on with those words towards the restrooms.
He took off his jacket and began to dry whatever he could. It was a warm feeling in here. He washed himself up in the basin, glanced at himself through the mirror. He had always found himself handsome. He was indeed handsome. Fair with a slim clean shaven face and stuffed hair combed into an immaculate puff. He wandered his hands across his chest and the rest of his body but stopped short in his thoughts as he realised that he had to be sitting inside before the conference. Moreover he should stop feeling her touches on his body by now.
The conference started with an agenda about goals and how to achieve them. Sarim managed to be an outspoken person in all such conferences and so he was today. After a long discussion, it finally was over and Sarim went in the gallery for a quick smoke. He lit a cigarette and found himself alone there. Finding a bench that he hardly sat upon in other days, Sarim sat down over it, gave a strong puff to his cigarette and inhaled it deeply. He held it there for a moment and right before exhaling it, in the moment of that beautiful pain, he saw her face forming in his brain. The rest of his time in the gallery was passed in the arms of nicotine.
As he was returning to his office, the boss called for him from across the hall. He went in the direction and followed his boss into her office. She was a lady in her fifties. Trying to keep herself in shape and nearly succeeding at it. Sarim tried not to imagine her as an object of his manly pleasures but then sometimes he could not stop his mind playing tricks, especially when he yearned to take his anger out on her policies; and his anger had only one clear way out apparently. ‘You spoke well and I hope it’s only you who can take up this task at hand. Good boy you are. Go make us proud’, she declared with a faint smile. ‘Thank you boss, I sure will’, he smiled back at her while saying that. He walked out of the office with the ‘Good boy’ resonating in his brains.
Late afternoon he managed to take a leave and reach back his apartment well in time. He loosened his shoes and threw himself on the bed. ‘Good boy!’ Whispered through his hand and it followed again and again and it went over and over again. Until he saw her face again. It was clear now. Those juicy lips jutting out. Red lipstick as if applied for him only. Thinking about it , he cuddled himself in the bed. Doing so his own image came infront of him.
A boy, eight years of age and she was double his age. He was scared, Sarim still shivered a little on this thought. He shook off his thoughts, sat upright with his back on the bed rest. Putting his legs in a cross he lighted a cigarette and rested his head on the fist of the hand. He jumped back into his thoughts.
He ran away from her. Opening the door and striding away as far as he could. He ran away out of his home and stopped at the door of the male servant’s quarter. Thrusting the door open Sarim hoped in. The servant was asleep but he shook awake on this sudden entry. Sarim jumped onto him and hugged him. He slept alongside his servant who caressed his hair gently while he laid along his side. He didn’t remember how much time passed when he was awakened by the bang on the door. ‘Sarim! Come here’, that was his mother. He moved out sensing anger in his mother’s words. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that you have no business here in the servant quarters’, saying this his mother took him along inside the house. ‘We are going out and so I have called our neighbour’s nanny Sania. She will look after you. Don’t disturb her’, his mother said in a declaring tone and left the house, leaving him with Sania, the nanny from neighbourhood. “Hello Sarim! Will you be a ‘good boy’?”, she asked him with a playful smile.
Sarim came back from the reverie of his thoughts. He had one thought remaining and it was that how Sania exclaimed from time to time, during the painful procedure, that she hated men and wanted him to be a good boy, a very good boy. He walked with this thought in his room now. He blushed with a little shame from past and pleasure that he remembered. He moved out of his apartment with these thoughts. It had been a while he had stopped visiting Rani his favourite prostitute in the town but lately she too had been avoiding him because of his unacceptable practices. He therefore proceeded to the office as he remembered the receptionist would still be there and tonight it’s off in her college. She deserved a little bit punishment for her outrageous comments in the morning. ‘No I won’t kill her’, he said to himself ,’I would be a good boy!’