Monday, November 2, 2015

Because Love is Sex and Sex is Love and Shahrukh Khan




This is part of a story that I wrote for a collection of erotica edited by Ruchir Joshi.

It's a fantasy - about time travel, about loving sex between strangers, about the feeling that every encounter is an intense piece of travel, equal parts intimate and unknown, unknowable. As are places, so are people.

And yes its a thinly disguised Shahrukh - or a character made up of Shahrukh's emanation of sex-love-love-sex, no dhoka.

So, for Pragya Tiwari, who asked for this story on SRK's 50th birthday, here's an excerpt :)

The whole story is in this book.

(Side comment - writing a blog post feels oddly like time travel in its own way! And so, a little bit sexy to.)

TOURISTS - AN EXCERPT

Sartaj squeezed me tight. He had beautiful forearms. I could feel the thickness of his hair on the back of my neck. ‘It’s going to be a mess getting up. And we don’t have other clothes, so better not put these on,’ he said.

We tiptoed naked past the sweeping woman, clutching our clothes, and tumbled laughing into the bathroom with its warm trickling water and squeaky brass taps. The creepers outside the windows filled it with a soft green light, now that the sun was high. Our bodies were covered in arabesques from the shadows. I bent my bottom under the tap and Sartaj washed my back clean for me. I squatted under the tap and washed my hair with the piss coloured shampoo. I felt like a child and it was comforting to be here, sitting on the stone floor, next to these old fashioned whitewashed walls. I grinned up at him with the water streaming down the sides of my face. Water had collected on his eyelashes and it was golden in the window’s sidelight like a row of raindrops on a monsoon window grill. He looked mysterious and beautiful in this shadowy jewelled light. In all the years of his being a famous 
movie star, where his image had dogged my every ordinary step most of my life, how had I never noticed this beauty?

I got up and drank the water off his eyes. ‘Careful’ he said, ‘it’s not filtered.’ ‘Thirst is everything.’ I drank the water off his shoulders, his pinpoint nipples, his mouth with its challenging pout, sucking the water off his spongy lips, so full they suggested they be bitten in little testing bites before being completely eaten up. He ran his hands up and down my body and I sighed and came closer for more. He stroked the insides of my thighs, the crook of my arms, my stomach, my breasts, my shoulders, filling me with a slowly expanding pleasure.
‘You’re nothing but nerve endings. Is there any part of you that doesn’t like to be touched?’
I thought about it. ‘I suppose not. Though you’re welcome to find out.’
There were voices outside. A little more confident now that no one could see us, I went up to the door to see what was going on, naked and dripping water on the freshly swabbed floor. The maid was giving two men water from the fast frosting bottle. They laconically discussed something in a language I didn’t know and then went off and started cutting the overgrown creepers around the porch and the windows.


I went back into the bathroom where Sartaj stood examining his stubble and chest hair in the mirror with extreme interest. ‘I think someone’s coming to stay in the house. They’re clearing up outside.’
‘Okay.’

‘What okay? We need to get a little serious about finding a way out of here.’ ‘Well, I don’t have any ideas. Do you?’

I chewed my lip, feeling that frustrated feeling when you don’t know which road to walk down, when there isn’t even a hint about the meaning of things.
‘I have a theory though,’ he said, pulling me closer to him and looking at us both in the mirror, smoothing my hair back and knotting it to wring out the water. ‘I think if you just let it be, it will be fine. Don’t think ahead so much. Some cosmic chance brought us here. The same thing will take us back.’
‘But we have to think ahead Sartaj. We can’t just keep drifting in time like this.’
‘Why? Don’t be so anxious.’



‘I don’t want to be stuck here like this forever.’
‘Really? Excuse my ego, but there are a few women out there —’ he pointed to the window, ‘—although they are still babies I accept, who would kill to be in your place, if they could go forward in time and see what awaits.’
‘Well, I’m one of those babies and I have seen what awaits and I’m not killing to be in my place, if you know what I mean.’


There was a rueful look in his eye as he smiled at me in the mirror, nodding. ‘Hmmm. You do have a point. You’re the kind of girl who is disdainful of movie stars because you aren’t stupid. No?’


I looked away. ‘It’s not that. I am sure one of the reasons I am feeling so turned on by you is that you’re a movie star ... in our time. And well, even now. Your body is made up of some sort of special material that’s created from lots of people wanting you and you knowing that. I mean, it must be amazing to feel that. If it were me, I’d be flitting around joyfully like a butterfly.’
‘Instead of stinging like a bee all the time,’ he laughed. ‘You’re always fighting, like a girl who doesn’t want to admit she likes the boy who shares her desk.’ He kissed my shoulder, his eyes watching us in the mirror, ‘I love looking at you in the mirror,’ he said, kissing my neck again. There was something to the way in which he could do that, it was like that nerve Mr Spock knew how to find that would instantly make people collapse. His half open mouth just there, where my neck began, seemed to infuse some drug into my blood. I could feel heat coming out of my ears.


‘Why do you like it?’ I asked.


‘Because I get to look at someone while they look at me. Normally, other people are the only ones who get to look. Although I have no complaints about that, but I repeat, I like this very much.’

--

And the rest between the covers of the book :)