Disclaimer: This is a fictitious post, resemblance to anybody living or dead is purely coincidental. I ‘respectfully’ attribute this story to great women writers of Sajha - Deepika, Sitara, AnneHathaway, Amber and many more I fail to mention currently. Amid name callings, sexual innuendos and male chauvinisms it takes a significant amount of valor and maturity to continue keeping their elegant self in sajha. kUDOS. VANILLA “Common people like us find sanity in chaos” She peered outside the thick glass window of prudential tower staring at the azure sky and chewed on her olive thoughtfully “we think righteousness, honesty and order is banal and therefore resort to sporadic disobedience” She looked elegant, more so than ever, maybe I was not used to seeing her every day in that aptly fitting blue J crew dress. It was sleeveless; tapered adequately above her hips, fitted her curves well and reached few inches above her knees. I kept looking at her legs, wondering who would have thought a Harvard nerd would have such carved calves. She was wearing skinny jeans last week while we were hiking at Walden pond, along with dirty converse, a worn out Harvard hoodie and was carrying a hello kitty backpack she had saved since her upper elementary days. “Disobedience?” I blinked. “Yes, we live in an era of chaos, where even conformists seek a secret reprieve to do something unusual. In the wake of that, how do you define obedience in nihilists like us?” “Just because you and I are married to two different people and are meeting with each other without their knowledge do not make us a nihilist Michelle, we are mere cheaters.” “That’s what you think you are, but I consider myself a nonconformist who cannot persuade a traditionalist to come my way. Derek is a rabbit in this dog eat dog planet Boston, he is a follower, a dutiful father, he works to please and earns to live…..” “But you still live with him.” I interrupted. “I said I am a nonconformist, that doesn’t mean I am flawless, I have weaknesses like every other person”. She smiled and gestured for another round of Martini. She was leaving for Philadelphia next day. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Michelle and I had met approximately a year ago at my colleague Bradley’s party in Wellesley. Brad was one wealthy son of a bitch who never ceased flaunting his riches. A big tudor near the nook of Washington and Morton which he inherited from his family, had large windows and shiny wood floors which reflected opulence from every corner. As I wandered from one living room to another, It didn’t take me too long to notice a thin redhead who partly resembled a young Mia Farrow sitting alone in an armchair and Flipping through the pages of a Pankaj Mishra’s classic.  Moreover, it was a tiny ‘OM’ tattoo in her left wrist that peaked my curiosity. “…but I am a Buddhist” She had replied few minutes down our conversation “I despise Hinduism, f*&ing Shiva and Krishna, some fools’ horrible imagination, are you kidding me?” I smiled, I couldn’t agree more. Earlier that day, my mother-in-law who was visiting us made me wear a Sai Baba’s bibhoot when I was heading out to the gym. I had wiped it the moment I got into the car and had counted days to March 28th –  the day of her departure. “But why Om?” I asked. “That is because I like this letter, and the way it sounds, or maybe I am just crazy. Americans are the most eccentric homosapiens in this planet and I guess you already knew that” “I get it…” I replied “….it is more like a white supremacist in Kentucky inking himself in Kanji” “Exactly” She laughed “And I thought you were far from interesting” “Yeah, just like a moment ago I thought you looked far from being sexy” I sometimes surprise myself. She laughed again. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx “Lunch with me?” It was a Sunny Friday afternoon when she called me. It was a last week of March and the weather was surprisingly generous. There were few heaps of snow around the nooks of every block, but they were thawing with celerity. “I am taking off afternoon; if you could do the same we can go to this record store near Central Square and spend sometimes there”. She added. “But I do not have a record…..” I replied. “Who said you were buying?” She answered even before I could complete the sentence. “Fifteen minutes”, she rolled her eyes as we waited outside ‘The Tavern’. “The owner needs to find more space, dude has enough money to buy half a block in Central square.” Her hands were soft and warm. In fact very soft, and very warm. I do not recall how we got there but we were holding hands as we waited for a table. She was leaning on my shoulders, her tiny frame relaxed against me, her eyes were closed and she breathed slowly. I stared at the traffic, stupefied, perhaps searching for my mother-in-law in the crowd, she would be holding an axe. “We’re going Dutch” she said as we were eating. I had vowed to keep myself on a lean protein diet as a new year’s resolution and was actually doing pretty good on it – until now. I could have ordered a Caesar salad, but didn’t want to come off as ‘that guy’. So I was chomping on an Angus burger. “I never let women pay” “I know, but if you pay my share, I would have to sleep with you, and since you cannot take me to your place and I cannot take you to mine and I’d feel like a hooker if we get a room, it is better I pay my share”. She squinted. I laughed. “So how come a guy from Nepal listens to Tom Waits and Joni Mitchell and Miles Davis?” She picked a Tom Waits record and looked at the songs in the label. We were at this old record store between Central square and Sidney street. “I went to a boarding school in India, and one of my favorite teachers had tapes of them, so I grew up listening to them. My father had a tape of Tom Waits too.” “Michelle, can you at least let me buy that one for you?”I asked as we were waiting at the cash register. “Sure you can, but you’ll have to do me in the car, I do not accept favors” She smiled. “F#&k you” I smiled back. An older lady turned around and stared at us. We both giggled. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I never slept with Michelle. It is not that we didn’t have time or opportunity, but we silently procrastinated for no reason. I never felt the need to have sex with her, and I believe she never really cared about it. “I find profound conversations, twisted humor and crude repartees orgasmic” she once told me as we were walking alongside Charles River. We met once a week, specially on Fridays and spent several hours together. Phone calls after 4:00pm and weekends were prohibited. Sometimes we both met our spouses for lunch during weekdays and if one of us happened to call the other during that time we both would keep conversations light and short. We actually never kissed, she found such acts effusively mushy and utterly juvenile. ‘Affection is for weaklings’ she said “Weak people constantly need to be reminded that they are loved, stronger beings do not give a f*&k” “But you love Mallory.” “Yes, she is a child, and she is weak” she shook her head as if I had said something foolish to offend her. We didn’t kiss at all, but we got close to doing that once, actually we did a lot more than just kiss which we didn’t. Bradley hosted a party again one Friday night and it was supposed to last past midnight. Michelle called me that noon. “They’re playing ‘The Reader’ in Burlington Movie Theater; I’ve always wanted to see it. Let’s leave Brad’s house soon and go see that movie.” That evening, we both completely ignored Bradley and his wife Julie and hung out in the second floor marveling some of the artifacts his grandfather had collected. “Chelle....”A slightly drunk man in his 60s spotted her and leaped towards us. “How can you ignore the rest of the crowd and only speak to this friend of yours?” He grinned and shook hand with me. “Because we have been f*&ing David” she spoke without expression “I give complete attention to the man I sleep with, and no one else.” His grin suddenly vanished and he almost dropped that glass of Hennessey. A moment later he laughed, or at least pretended to do so. ‘See ya around’ and he disappeared into the crowd. “Dad’s friend; he used to have a boner for mom earlier on, now it is me” she paused for a moment, ”…and I don’t even have tits like my mother.” But she did. In fact they were so firm I momentarily forgot she breastfed Mallory until she was one. We were halfway into that movie when it happened. I heard a soft gasp when Kate Winslet got naked. I turned to look at Michelle - her eyes were watered. Embarrassed, she wiped tears off and looked at me, I froze. Michelle getting emotional – that was a rare treat. She looked away and kept squeezing my hand she had been squeezing for sometime. All of a sudden I could feel her hands navigating mine inside her blouse. And when she lifted her left bra cup and placed my hand on her breast, I stopped breathing. She leaned on my shoulder and whispered in my ears ‘Squeeze” I found myself squeezing her left breast for next few minutes, and then I started squeezing the right one. Her handful, naked, supple breasts, they were not too big, but were firm, very firm. Her nipples rose to attention as I started tweaking them. They were hard and erect, springing to life almost instantly as I took turns on both breasts. I mauled them like there was no tomorrow. Michelle Aylesworth – Wellesley College, Harvard University, a woman, a mother, a wife, a senior manager at Genzyme ; someone would pay a million to acquire that resume, and I was squeezing her tits. Michelle hugged me tight, her teeth dug on my shoulder as she moaned silently - gasping for breath occasionally and panting harder, her warm and minty rampant breaths hitting my earlobes as she wrestled with pleasure. And then she gasped aloud, almost drawing attention from a couple few rows ahead from ours, and exhaled slowly. “ F*&k, I just came” she started giggling. “Seriously?” I whispered “without any other stimulation?” “You mean my vagina? Dude, Vanilla sex is for losers who need to penetrate or be penetrated to validate their sexual identity. I could come meditating or buying a grocery” We didn’t speak a word after that. Michelle called me Tuesday morning as I was driving to work, and since I was amid heavy traffic near Watertown, I couldn’t answer her call. Her message was brief “I am flying to Philly later today with Derek, shall call you when I get back”. I looked askance at my smartphone. All of a sudden? Then I didn’t hear from her for several days. I called her cellphone twice, and left voice messages. “We need to talk” she called me exactly two weeks after Bradley’s party and at 9:00pm when I was watching tv with my little daughter “Top of the hub tomorrow at 4, wear something nice.” She disconnected before I could speak a word, I was surprised to say the least. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx “So Philly huh!” “Yeah, they hired Derek as a senior Director, almost doubling his pay, he couldn’t decline.” “And you?” “I am sure I shall find something soon, actually better, I have an interview next Thursday at King of Prussia.” Sipping another round of Martini we talked frivolously for few minutes, most were about Philly cheesesteaks. “So tell me something Michelle, do nonconformists lie?” She stared at me for a second and then nodded slowly. It seemed that she just ran out of wisecracks. But in the next second she coughed, stretched her arms and chugged the remaining martini. “I mentioned earlier that nonconformists are not without flaws. Just because I am Buddhist doesn’t mean I am Buddha, but I didn’t lie to you, it is just that you didn’t ask” she paused “to tell you the truth Derek had been interviewing with this company for almost a year now and it was the uncertainty that baffled me, despite being a non-believer in customary practices I still follow some patterns - my work, Mallory’s day care, grocery, laundry, house mortgage etc. My world doesn’t hover around Derek’s job you know, but he is my husband nevertheless, and he was a summa cum Laude at MIT, brilliant guy, I just cannot ignore him.” “And your point is….” “I needed an escape from all that, the uncertainty, and the ambivalence of Derek’s decision making. I needed someone to listen to me, someone I could vent, you were vulnerable and you took the bait. I don’t want you to feel bad, you were remarkable, a true gentleman who never wanted to get into my pants even though at times I wished you did.” “Seriously?” I smiled. “Yes, and I am not trying to flatter you, heck you look so dashing in this blazer I could totally do you in the elevator.” We both laughed. “Au Revoir my dear friend” she kissed me gently on the cheek as she grabbed her purse and stood up. “Don’t send a friend’s request on Facebook, I shall never accept it” I sat down and looked at her until she disappeared around the corner. I ordered one more drink and looked outside the glass window. City lights scattered around the Boston cosmopolis. Below, I could see people, lots of people, everyone carrying their share of sob stories, their miseries and their despairs, maybe they all need to break away and escape for a while, maybe they all are versions of me and Michelle – weak human beings. I looked at the sky as the sun made a bleak effort to shine. It had turned Vanilla. Last edited: 11-Mar-13 01:05 PM