10-02-2023, 05:04 PM
Any discomfort or second thoughts Mansi was having about continuing the arrangement with the charming old man vanished when she saw her daughter's eyes light up on seeing the new dresses. Pinky hugged her mother, said "I love you" multiple times, and tried on both dresses, admiring herself in the mirror. Amar wasn't home, or he might have asked how much the dresses cost. She could have given him an number and he might not have known the difference, although to a discerning eye, it was clear that they were expensive. Still, just to be on the safe side, after she put the dresses away, she told in a playful conspiratorial way,
"Don't tell papa about these dresses, ok? Keep it our little secret and maybe I will buy you some more."
"Ok mamma, promise." the little girl smiled. To her young brain, all that mattered was that she was getting new shiny things.
That evening, as was often the case, Amar arrived with a bunch of his friends for yet another one of their intellectual sessions. As Mansi toiled in the kitchen making them snacks, she kept thinking about her time with her two high society friends. When she was with them, she was the one being waited on by others, being offered delicious food and strange new drinks. But in this part of the life, she was like a servant for Amar and his buddies. She longed for another high society experience. But it wouldn't be for another week as Duttsahab had said.
She was lost in thought frying pakoras when Amar came in to put away empty cups.
"So Mansi." he said and stopped.
"Yes?"
"You didn't tell me what happened with your final job interview." he sounded a little judgmental. The tone set Mansi off.
"When was I supposed to tell you? You walked in with all your buddies without telling me first." she said angrily. And a little loudly.
"Shhh. Don't get upset. I just wanted to know what happened. Did you get the job?" Amar was taken aback. His wife did sometimes react testily, but he hadn't expected it now.
"Yes, I got the job."
"Okay, good. Congratulations."
Wanting to be supportive, he put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Mansi was a little surprised. Firstly because Amar didn't really make such physical gestures too often. And secondly, it immediately made her think of earlier in the day when Dutt had done something similar. And she found herself comparing the two. How much taller and more manly the old man was, as opposed to her slim short husband.
That night, Amar again suggested that she sleep in a gown. The same routine was repeated. Mansi took a sleeping Pinky out to the living room. And soon, Amar got on top of her. This time, Mansi had even more trouble keeping Dutt's image from her mind. At almost touch and every gesture, her brain kept throwing up the charming old man's face. She kept remembering how his touch had felt. She kept feeling excited at these unexpected mental intrusions.
--
"Don't tell papa about these dresses, ok? Keep it our little secret and maybe I will buy you some more."
"Ok mamma, promise." the little girl smiled. To her young brain, all that mattered was that she was getting new shiny things.
That evening, as was often the case, Amar arrived with a bunch of his friends for yet another one of their intellectual sessions. As Mansi toiled in the kitchen making them snacks, she kept thinking about her time with her two high society friends. When she was with them, she was the one being waited on by others, being offered delicious food and strange new drinks. But in this part of the life, she was like a servant for Amar and his buddies. She longed for another high society experience. But it wouldn't be for another week as Duttsahab had said.
She was lost in thought frying pakoras when Amar came in to put away empty cups.
"So Mansi." he said and stopped.
"Yes?"
"You didn't tell me what happened with your final job interview." he sounded a little judgmental. The tone set Mansi off.
"When was I supposed to tell you? You walked in with all your buddies without telling me first." she said angrily. And a little loudly.
"Shhh. Don't get upset. I just wanted to know what happened. Did you get the job?" Amar was taken aback. His wife did sometimes react testily, but he hadn't expected it now.
"Yes, I got the job."
"Okay, good. Congratulations."
Wanting to be supportive, he put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Mansi was a little surprised. Firstly because Amar didn't really make such physical gestures too often. And secondly, it immediately made her think of earlier in the day when Dutt had done something similar. And she found herself comparing the two. How much taller and more manly the old man was, as opposed to her slim short husband.
That night, Amar again suggested that she sleep in a gown. The same routine was repeated. Mansi took a sleeping Pinky out to the living room. And soon, Amar got on top of her. This time, Mansi had even more trouble keeping Dutt's image from her mind. At almost touch and every gesture, her brain kept throwing up the charming old man's face. She kept remembering how his touch had felt. She kept feeling excited at these unexpected mental intrusions.
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