Adultery NEMESIS

[Neelkantha]

Part 206 – Raju Went To Madam's House To Study

Pihu’s POV-

Raju began narrating his story to me, and I kept listening. “As the two of us stepped into Rozina Madam’s flat, a thick darkness enveloped everything around us. I couldn't see a thing. But the very next moment, a sudden burst of bright light seemed to blur my entire vision. I rubbed my eyes and glanced to my side, only to see that Madam had flipped the switch located right next to the door, instantly illuminating the entire flat. Then, turning to look at me, she said, ‘Come in. You are most welcome to my flat,’ and led me inside. Once inside, my head began to spin. I had only ever seen a flat this massive and opulent in the movies. Madam’s flat was a 3-BHK unit, complete with an open-plan kitchen area and a dining hall. I, too, was born and raised in the city, and my own home is quite spacious; yet, I could never have imagined, even in my wildest dreams, that a flat could be this vast and luxurious. The combined area of the drawing room and dining hall was large enough to serve as a playing field where one could easily play cricket or football. The drawing room was furnished with sofas, armchairs, and a center table. Mounted on the wall was a massive smart TV, I’d estimate its size to be around 75 inches, if not larger, accompanied by a Dolby sound system. That setup alone must have cost at least a one lakh rupees. The entire flat was centrally air-conditioned. Suspended from the ceiling right in the center of the drawing room hung a grand chandelier. Amidst all this, as I took in everything before my eyes, I completely lost track of just how much money all of this must have cost. Looking at Madam’s flat, one thing became abundantly clear to me: she was incredibly wealthy and affluent. Her immense wealth and high status were evident from the mere sight of her flat. After entering the drawing room, I must have been gawking around like a complete fool; noticing this, Madam smiled slightly and said, ‘Please sit down; I’ll get you some water. Oh, and yes, hand me that packet.’ As she spoke, she gestured toward the packet of food I was holding in my hand. I handed the packet I was holding to Madam. Taking the packet, Madam walked toward the open-plan kitchen situated right in front of us. A short while later, she returned with a tray holding two glasses of water. She handed one glass to me and kept the other for herself. After drinking the water, I returned the glass to Madam. Madam went back into the kitchen, set down the tray, and returned. Then, approaching me, she said, ‘Sit here. I’m going to go freshen up for a bit. Then, after having a light snack, we’ll start our studies. You brought your books and notes and such, didn't you?’ I nodded my head in affirmation. She replied, ‘Alright, have a seat. I’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, if you like, you can watch TV. The TV remote is on that table over there. I’ll be right back.’ Saying this, Madam walked toward one of the three large rooms in the apartment. I realized that it must be her bedroom. Madam entered the room and closed the door behind her. I set down my bag and sat on the sofa in the living room. It was the first time I had ever sat on a sofa with such soft, plush cushions. I turned on the TV using the remote. It felt as though I were sitting in a movie theater, watching a film on the big screen. After watching TV for a while, Madam emerged from her room. She was still wearing a saree, though now it was a simple, everyday saree suitable for home wear. She said, ‘Come and sit at the dining table. I’ll warm up our snack.’ Madam was behaving quite naturally with me, almost as if I were her own son. She appeared to be about the same age as my mother, perhaps a year or two older at most. I got the distinct impression that she was thinking of me just like she would her own son. Anyway, I turned off the TV, walked over to the dining table, and took a seat. The table itself was quite large, an eight-seater, with three chairs on each side and two at the ends. I walked over and sat down in one of the chairs. Based on everything I had seen since arriving at this flat, it was evident that they were quite wealthy. Yet, at the same time one particular thought kept nagging at me. Such a massive flat, so many amenities, such sheer opulence, yet, apart from Madam, no one else seemed to live here. For one thing, ever since I had arrived at this flat, I hadn't seen a single third person other than the two of us. And most importantly, the flat had been locked from the outside. Madam had actually unlocked the door to enter. If there had been anyone else at home, it stood to reason that she wouldn't have locked the place from the outside like that. This implied that she lived all alone in this sprawling flat. In a space where at least six to eight people could comfortably reside, Madam was living entirely by herself, and doing so amidst such wealth and luxury. I had heard that she was divorced from her husband. So, did she have no children at all? If she did, where were they? Did they not live with her? And if Madam had indeed divorced her husband, why did she live in such solitude? Why didn't she live with her own family? A multitude of questions swirled through my mind. Sitting right there at the dining table, I was lost in deep contemplation, pondering all these thoughts, when suddenly, Madam emerged from the kitchen carrying a couple of casseroles and two plates. She started to set them down on the table. Before she could do so, however, I stood up, took the items from her hands, and began placing them on the table myself. Once everything was laid out, Madam smiled, said ‘Thanks,’ and took a seat in the chair directly across from me. She then proceeded to serve the food from the casseroles onto the two plates.”

“Then, looking at me with a slight smile, she remarked, ‘You started thinking about something again, didn't you? Why do you think so much? When you get lost in thought, you become so engrossed that you don't even realize what is happening around you. I’ve noticed it many times in class, too, while studying, you’ll suddenly drift off into your own thoughts.’ What she said was true; blushing slightly, I replied, ‘No, Madam, it’s nothing like that.’ She said, ‘It’s better if it isn't. Always keep your focus fixed on your work and your immediate surroundings. Understood? Here, eat this now.’ I said, ‘Madam, I can’t possibly eat this much food.’ Looking at me, Madam asked, ‘Since when did you Bengalis start turning down food? I’ve always heard that you people are quite fond of eating!’ Laughing, I replied, ‘We certainly are, but I just can’t eat this much all at once.’ She said, ‘At least give it a try. You’re a young man, if you don’t eat heartily now, when will you? Go ahead and eat. We’ll start our studies once we’re done eating.’ Without saying another word, I simply nodded and began to eat. As we ate, Madam asked me, ‘Tell me, then, what exactly were you thinking about just now?’ I replied, ‘Nothing in particular, Madam.’ Madam spoke in a gentle voice, ‘People don’t just sit there, oblivious to the world around them, for ‘no particular reason.’ Tell me, what was on your mind?’ Blushing even more now, I confessed, ‘Please don’t take offense, Madam, but...I was actually thinking about you.’ Madam had been chatting casually while eating alongside me, but the moment I said that, she stopped eating. She paused for a brief instant to look at me, and as she did, her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. I had noticed this before: whenever Madam was taken aback or surprised, her eyebrows would instinctively arch just like that. With a voice tinged with surprise, Madam asked me, ‘About me? What on earth were you thinking about me?’ I immediately replied, ‘Please don't get me wrong, Madam. I was just wondering how you manage to live all alone in such a spacious flat.’ Madam replied in slightly annoyed voice, ‘Why? Just because I am a woman, does that mean I cannot live alone?’ I said, ‘No. That is not what I meant.’ Madam then stopped eating completely, looked directly at me, and said in a somber voice, ‘Always remember one thing I tell you; it will serve you well in life. Never, ever depend on anyone in this life. Strive to be as self-reliant as possible. The moment you begin to depend on someone, no matter who that person is: a mother, father, husband, wife, son, daughter, or anyone else, you will develop a habit of relying on them. And when that very person eventually leaves you all alone, you will forever feel their absence. You will never be able to truly recover from that void. Therefore, never let anyone become a habit in your life. Do you understand?’ Having said this, she paused for a moment. I felt that, given she was divorced and her husband had left her all alone like this, she was likely saying these things to me because of her own experiences. Before I could offer a reply, Madam spoke again: ‘Just look at me. You probably already know that I am divorced. I am currently forty-six years old. My divorce took place ten years ago, meaning I was thirty-five or thirty-six at the time. Just imagine: through what lens does our society view a thirty-six-year-old divorced woman? Everyone began to look at me through that very same lens. But I pay absolutely no heed to any of it. I live my life entirely on my own terms.’ She paused once more after saying this. Then she continued, ‘Mine was a love marriage. We studied together in college; that is where our romance began. However, we belonged to different religions. Consequently, neither of our families gave us their consent to marry. Yet, at that time, we were so deeply immersed in our love for one another that the thought of parting ways seemed utterly impossible to us. We ran away from home and got married. My husband is a scientist. He works for the government. He has heaps of money and lives a life of luxury. He never once let me feel the lack of anything whatsoever. Whatever I asked for, he would bring it home the very next day. He loved me deeply, too. For him, spending even a single moment away from me was unthinkable. For me, too, he was everything. After our marriage, we both became estranged from our respective families; they refused to acknowledge us. But it made no difference to us. We had built our own little world together. We got married at a rather young age; we were the same age. When we tied the knot, we were both twenty-four years old. Our marriage lasted for twelve years. After twelve years, we separated. We had vowed never to let go of each other's hands for a lifetime, yet in a single instant, we were torn apart. This flat you are looking at, it belongs to him. After our divorce, he transferred the title of this flat into my name. We had been living here for about five years prior to our divorce. After the divorce, he moved out. I have often thought about selling everything here and moving away to some other place. I don't enjoy living alone in such a large house. But then I remind myself that this home was purchased with the sweat and toil of both of us. So many of our shared memories are intertwined with this house. I simply cannot bring myself to sell it just like that.’ Having said this, Madam fell silent. I had never imagined that Madam was such an emotional person on the inside. Perhaps that is precisely why she walks around wearing this facade of artificial toughness and arrogance, so that no one ever gets to see this vulnerable side of her.”

“I asked her, ‘Haven’t you contacted your family after your divorce? And do you not have any children?’ Madam looked at me and said, ‘That’s enough for today. Finish your food quickly; it’s getting late.’ I realized that if I kept asking like this, Madam wouldn’t reveal anything. She would only share details when she felt ready to do so. I quietly finished my meal. Then, we both went and sat in the drawing room. Sitting opposite each other on the sofa, Madam began to tutor me. I felt quite comfortable studying under her guidance. Madam explained everything to me with great clarity. In this manner, time passed. It struck nine o’clock at night. I said to Madam, ‘Madam, I’ll take my leave now. It’s gotten quite late. I’ll come again tomorrow.’ Madam glanced at the clock and replied, ‘Alright. From tomorrow onwards, try to come a little earlier. I’ll be back early as well, so we can get a bit more studying done. Also, do one thing: come here at 9:00 AM on Sunday. We’ll sit and study together for the entire day. Is that okay?’ I replied, ‘Okay. I’ll head out now.’ She said, ‘Wait. How are you going to get back to your hostel at this late hour?’ I said, ‘I’ll just catch an auto-rickshaw or something.’ She said, ‘Alright. Tell the watchman downstairs; he’ll help you find an auto.’ Saying, ‘Okay, Madam. Good night,’ I left her house. I was deeply impressed by Madam’s demeanor. People unfairly malign her simply because they fail to understand her. I went downstairs, caught an auto, and reached my hostel. That day marked the beginning of my private tutoring sessions with her. I would go to study in the evenings, from Monday through Saturday. And on Sundays, I would arrive at her house at 9:00 AM. I would then spend the entire day there, studying, eating, and even taking a bath. Gradually, my academic performance began to improve. My weekly tests, too, started yielding good results once again, just as they used to in the past. Madam was pleased. And I certainly was, too. I simply told everyone that I was attending private tuition classes. Two months passed in this manner. During these two months, aside from my studies, nothing particularly eventful took place. But yes, I did have a great many conversations with Madam. I had come to know a great deal about her. Her family members had refused to have any contact with her. She had given birth to a son, but he had passed away shortly after birth. Subsequently, despite their best efforts, they were unable to have any other children. It was this issue that sparked the conflicts between her and her husband. It didn't take long for minor disagreements to escalate into major disputes. Eventually, the situation reached the point of divorce. Yet, according to Madam, she still loves her husband to this day, and he, too, loves her. Hearing her story saddened me, though, for my part, everything in my life was going well. But then, one day, something happened, an event after which the relationship between Madam and me seemed to change completely. And from that very day, I began to view Madam through a different lens.” Having said this, Raju fell silent. I (Pihu) looked at him and asked, “What happened that day?” Raju began recounting his story once again: “The time I’m speaking of was when my first-semester exams of that year were drawing near. Just like any other day, I went to Madam’s house that day as well to study. While tutoring me, Madam asked, ‘How is your preparation coming along? Your exams are just around the corner, you haven't forgotten that, have you?’ I replied, ‘Madam, please don’t worry; my preparation is going well. I am absolutely going to score 70 percent in the exams this time.’ Hearing this, Madam shook her head and said, ‘No, 70 percent won't cut it. You simply must score at least 80 percent. Do you understand?’ I said, ‘I’ll try my best, Madam.’ Madam responded, ‘Trying is certainly something you have to do. But I want results, specifically, 80 percent. If you score even one percent less than that, I will stop tutoring you.’ Hearing Madam say this, I felt as though she were issuing me a challenge of sorts. And I happen to love a good challenge. I said, ‘Alright, Madam. I will definitely score at least 80 percent in these exams. But what do I get in return?’ Now, I had asked this question quite innocently. I swear, there wasn't a single improper thought in my mind. However, upon hearing the answer Madam gave to my question, I felt, for the very first time, that she was intending to convey one thing, yet saying something else entirely.” Having said this much, Raju fell silent once again. I (Pihu) asked him, “Why? What exactly did your Madam say that made you feel as though she was hinting at something else entirely?” Upon hearing my question, Raju said, “Before I answer that, let me tell you one more thing: during the two months I had been going to Madam’s house for my studies, she treated me just like a friend. Sometimes, I found it difficult to distinguish between the ‘Madam at home’ and the ‘Madam at the university.’ This was because, while tutoring me, she was always in a very normal, chilled-out, and relaxed mood. She never got angry with me, never shouted, never scolded. Whatever I asked her, she would explain to me with great patience. Yet, that very same Madam would transform into a completely different person once she went to the university. She would do all the things she never did at home, getting angry, shouting, and scolding without provocation. It felt to me as though they were two entirely different people. I began to wonder: which of these two was her true personality? The one at home? Or the one at the university? If her true nature was, in fact, the ‘university persona’, the angry one, then why did she treat me so well at home? Was it just on a whim? Or was there some underlying reason behind it? I didn’t usually dwell on these things too much, simply because things were working out for me. Madam taught me well, and my studies were showing marked improvement. So, why should I bother thinking about all this unnecessarily? But from that day on, I had no choice but to think about it.”

“Because on that day, for the very first time, I began to suspect that Madam had something else on her mind. Upon hearing my question, Madam gazed at my face for a moment raising her eyebrows a little, perhaps deep in thought. Then, she spoke softly: ‘If you score 80 percent or higher in this exam, I will give you something you could never even have imagined.’ Now, one could interpret this statement in a straightforward manner. And most people would interpret it simply, that Madam intends to give me some sort of surprise gift. However, deep down, I sensed that beneath this seemingly ordinary remark, Madam was trying to convey something else entirely, something she wasn't explicitly revealing to me. What grand thing could Madam be talking about giving me, something I had never even dared to imagine? Was there, then, a hidden subtext to her words, a subtle hint she was dropping through her conversation? Until now, throughout these past two months, I had never perceived a different side to Madam. It had never even crossed my mind that her personality might be of this nature. But then, I recalled something Alex had once said. When Alex was telling me about his mother and her boyfriend, and I was skeptical of his claims, he had shown me photographs of the two of them and made a specific observation; that is the memory that now resurfaced in my mind. He had said: ‘Raju, in this world, there is no creature more mysterious than a woman. Their physical and psychological makeup is far more complex than that of a man. Their bodies and minds are so intricately structured that their very thought processes are complex. It is nearly impossible to fathom the depths of a woman's mind. Believe it or not, the trajectory of a woman's thoughts is entirely different from the way you or I think. And understand this one thing: as a woman grows older, her attraction toward, and desire for, younger men only intensifies. This applies not merely to my mother, or to a few isolated cases, but to the vast majority of women in this world.’ But at the time, I didn't believe what Alex had said; I felt as though he was merely trying to justify his mother's actions by framing them within the context of how the world works. However, a specific remark made by Madam compelled me to seriously reconsider Alex's words. Yet, I couldn't, nor did I wish to judge Madam and her true nature based on just a single statement. To do that, I needed to keep a close watch on her, to determine whether she truly harbored some distinct feelings, or if it was all just a figment of my own imagination. From that day on, I began to view Madam through a different lens, while simultaneously keeping a watchful eye on her to see if she genuinely harbored any feelings for me that went beyond the ordinary. As I have mentioned before, Madam's demeanor at home was entirely different. She would joke and banter with me; she would cook meals for me; and we would often sit together, eating while watching TV or engaging in conversation. Aside from our study sessions, we spent a great deal of time simply talking. However, prior to that pivotal day, it had never once crossed my mind that Madam might harbor any feelings for me other than those of a mentor. Even in the days following that incident, I didn't observe anything particularly striking. Whatever changes did occur were so subtle that I felt it was perhaps best to simply overlook them. At home, Madam never wore anything other than a saree in my presence; I had never seen her in any other attire. Moreover, she typically dbangd her saree in a very modest and dignified manner. However, I did notice one specific detail: whenever Madam sat down to tutor me, she would lean forward, either toward me or toward the book, quite significantly. As a result, the pallu (lapel) of her saree would often slip aside, revealing her blouse and, beneath it, her huge and deep cleavage. Madam was a tall and voluptuous woman. I hadn't noticed it before, but now I began to realize just how curvaceous her figure truly was. Her boobs were quite large, a fact that was clearly discernible even through her blouse. Her back was quite broad, and where it emerged from her blouse, it looked truly magnificent. Her buttocks were large and voluptuous, protruding significantly, and appeared incredibly alluring, even beneath the folds of her saree. She possessed long, thick, jet-black hair that cascaded down to her waist. But what struck me most of all was the milky complexion of her skin, it was absolutely pristine white. At times, it felt as though she were not Indian at all, but rather a foreigner; I had only ever witnessed such a pale, milky complexion among fair-skinned Westerners. All in all, I found my Madam to be incredibly attractive and sexy. Now, my feelings toward Madam began to shift as well. While studying, I would secretly steal glances at her body. Although I couldn't see anything explicitly revealing, simply observing the contours of her figure, hidden beneath her saree and blouse, was enough to set my heart racing with desire. ‘Something else’ began to stir within me as well, something that, one day, caught Madam's eye. And that day proved to be the most significant day of my life.” (Contd.)

[Next Update is on Saturday (31.10.26) between 11 am to 2 pm]