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Lonely in a Long Distance Marriage

12

"BOTTOMS UP!!!"

We all shouted in unison and downed the fifth round of shots that night. The tequila burned my throat and the fumes almost seemed to come out my nostrils. I sucked on the lemon and winced at its tartness.

"Well done, Janu." Abir leaned in, squeezed by shoulder and rubbed my back. I giggled.

I looked up and saw my friend Kriti looking at me with half a smile on her face. She had noticed that it was the third time in the last half an hour that Abir had called me "Janu" instead of my name Janhvi without me saying anything in protest. She had also probably noticed that he was touching me a lot more and I wasn't stopping him.

"How about another round of beers?" Akash asked. Everyone nodded.

"Not ff.f.for me." I slurred. I had already downed way more than my usual amount. Four beers and five tequila shots.

"Oh come on, just one more, Janu." Abir put his hand on my back again. "We're celebrating a big win!"

"Fine." I said, not wanting to be a spoilsport.

We were in a classy South Mumbai pub celebrating our team landing a huge contract that would ensure most of us of big promotions. The seven of us had just been dubbed "Magnificent Seven" by our CEO, had been handed the company credit card, and told to celebrate without worrying about how much the bill came out to. We had been a raucous party all evening, delirious in our success.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Kriti got up said "Janhvi, care to give me company?"

I looked up at her, my head feeling very light.

"Huh?"

"Please come to the bathroom with me." there was a slight edge to her voice which made me comply.

We were both quite drunk. So taking slow careful steps, we walked to the ladies' room.

As soon as the door closed, Kriti turned around and said to me,

"What the hell is going on between you and Abir?"

"Nothing." I instantly said.

"Oh come on! He's calling you Janu, touching you all over the place."

"Only my back and my shoulder." I raised a finger in protest.

"Still. There's obviously a change. I'm not the only one who's noticed. The others have also been whispering to each other. What are you doing? What about Rahul?"

I suddenly felt a surge of resentment.

"What the fuck about Rahul? He's sitting there in Florida postponing trip after trip! And going out drinking every night with his friends! And going to the beach every weekend, probably ogling white chicks in bikinis!" I shouted.

"Calm down." Kriti said looking around. Luckily there was no one else in the ladies' room. "Look, your marriage is none of my business. And as your friend, I will support you in whatever you do. But as your friend, it is also my duty to warn you about the repercussions of your actions."

"I need to pee." I gruffly said and walked into a stall.

A couple of minutes later when I walked out, Kriti was fixing her make-up in front of the mirror.

"Sorry if I yelled." I glumly said.

"It's okay. You've had a lot to drink." Kriti smiled.

"Well, so have you!"

"Fair enough,"

I reached into my purse, took out my compact and started fixing my own make-up.

"We.....we kissed earlier."

"WHAT???"

"He just wore me down."

"Where?"

"In the lift."

"You slut!" Kriti said, but in a jocular tone. I giggled. "So you have decided to go through with it then?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not." I replied honestly. "It's been almost a year since I had sex."

It was true. Rahul had been sent to the US for what was initially supposed to be a short-term posting. But it kept getting extended. We then decided that I would join him, but my visa application had been on hold. Rahul was supposed to come back home for visits, but each time, some deadline mad him cancel the trip.

This year of unexpected long distance-ification of our marriage had caused a lot of stress and a lot of fights. Things were far from hunky dory. Even before he left, Rahul had grown a bit distant. It had been five years since we got married. I know the fresh spark doesn't last forever. But you don't expect your husband to spend every free moment at home just watching the TV or staring at his smartphone.

So when Abir started showering attention on me, I will admit, it felt nice. It started off with longer-than usual looks, more than usual compliments. Then he started texting me a lot more, gradually increasing the flirtatious content. Our work on the recent project also meant we spent a lot of time together as the two Unix experts in our group. He'd do a lot of random nice things for me like getting me coffee, chocolates, cupcakes, etc.

"Well, if you do decide to, let me say based on experience, Abir is an excellent choice." Kriti said.

"Shit! I forgot! Is that why are miffed?"

"Don't be silly. He means nothing to me. Our fling was a long time ago. Four years ago. he means nothing to me." Kriti repeated for emphasis.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. It's been obvious to me for the last few months that he's been trying to woo you. I didn't say anything because I didn't see you responding. Until tonight."

"Yeah well.....to be honest, I didn't plan to respond either. I don't know...."

That's when another woman came into the bathroom. Kriti and I walked out and went back to our table.

"Here's your beer, Janu." Abir rubbed my back as I sat down. I took a sip and looked at Kriti who had a wry smile on her face.

--------------------

It was way into the wee hours that our party wrapped up, and that too because the pub was closing. All of us, drunk and delirious, stumbled outside to the waiting line of cabs.

"Alright, Andheri West gang! Follow me!" Akash said as he opened the door of a cab.

The Andheri West gang consisted of Akash, Kriti, Abir, and me. This was the usual configuration when we shared cabs back from South Mumbai. Kirti would get dropped off first, then me, then Abir, and then Akash last. He paid for the cab and we paid him our shares the next day.

"Sardarji, Lokhandwala." Akash said to the turbaned driver as we got into the cab.

"Dude, how drunk are you? I stay at Lokhandwala. You stay at Oshiwara!" Abir said.

"Yeah man. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. I am going to my cousin's place in Azad Nagar tonight. We're playing squash tomorrow. So you'll be the last stop tonight." Akash said.

As drunk as I was, I detected tone of rehearsed-ness in what Akash said. Or maybe I was reading too much into it. But this new configuration meant that Akash and Kriti would get off first and Abir and I would be alone in the cab after that.

Akash had already kissed me in the lift with me putting up only token resistance and saying "someone might see us". He then had been extremely flirtatious with me all night without any pushback from my side. I suppose he decided to strike while the iron was hot by asking Akash for this favor.

The cab started zooming north through the mostly empty streets of Mumbai. Akash was sitting in the front next to the driver. Three of us were in the back, with Kriti and Abir sitting by the windows and me between them.

"I'm sleepy." I mumbled. I had drunk more than I could ever remember drinking. I had nearly fallen a couple of times while walking out the door.

"Awwww, take a nap." Kriti said, sounding a lot less drunk. She could always hold her liquor a lot better than I could.

I put my head on Kriti's shoulder and dozed off.

I woke up with a start a while later, with the loud sound of my phone beeping. The cab was on SV Road in Santa Cruz.

"Good morning." Abir squeezed my thigh over my skirt and said.

I looked around and saw that Akash and Kriti were still in the cab. The nap, far from making me feel better, was actually making me feel worse. I had a headache and I felt even more disoriented.

"It was your phone." Kriti helpfully informed me.

I fished the phone out of my purse. It was a text from Rahul.

- Hi hon, hw wz prty?

It always annoyed me that Rahul wrote text messages like a teenager. But now, drunk as a skunk, I felt myself compelled to do the same as the phone's keyboard seemed to swim all over the place.

- Gud. Goin home. Hoz yr day?

There was no reply for a while. My three colleagues were talking in their drunken slurred voices about the contract and speculating who would get promoted to what. I put my head back on Kriti's shoulder and closed my eyes. But I couldn't sleep.

Getting a message from my husband suddenly made the magnitude of what I was contemplating become apparent.

Akash got dropped off at Azad Nagar. I saw him chuckle at Abir and me before walking away, further strengthening my suspicions that he was in on it. Soon we reached Four Bungalow where Kriti lived.

She got out of the cab and hugged me goodbye. And as she was doing so, whispered in my ear,

"Don't rush into anything. Think about Rahul. But if you decide to, have fun."

I nodded. The cab got going again.

Within two minutes, Abir, who had maintained a respectful distance so far, slid over and put his arm around me.

"I've been waiting so long for this!" he said, and lowered his lips onto mine.

Much like earlier in the lift, I was taken aback by how fast he had moved. I was caught in two minds about whether to reciprocate or not. The guilt was still there. But Abir was so passionate that I thought, what the hell. And I put my hands on his shoulders and started kissing him back

-------------------------

When Abir broke the kiss, my eyes fell on the reariew mirror and I saw the driver's eyes in them. He was watching us make out. When he saw me looking at the mirror, he looked away. And suddenly, I felt conscious and pushed Abir away a little.

"What's the matter?" Abir asked, lowering his face again.

"The driver." I whispered.

"Hahaha!" Abir laughed. "Don't be shy of the driver. This is Bombay. He's seen way more happening in the back seat. Am I right, Sardarji? Do you mind if we fool around a little?"

He addressed the driver in Hindi. The driver just shrugged.

I still didn't feel too comfortable making out in front of an audience. But I was too drunk to seriously resist. Plus Abir's technique at least so far was quite good. Soon we were kissing again.

After a few seconds, Abir moved his right hand to my left breast and squeezed it over my top and bra. I responded by unbuttoning his top two buttons and feeling his chest hair. Abir saw I was willing, so slipped his hand under my top and to the back. Deftly, he unhooked my bra, and then moved his hands to the front, and felt up my bare boobs.

"Ummmm....lovely tits!"

I was so starved for male contact that everything Abir was doing was turning me on even more with every passing second, and the guilt of the fact that I was cheating got buried deep somewhere.

We were kissing and fondling each other for a couple of minutes as the cab drove towards Lokhandwala. I could feel his erection through his pants pushing against my hip and it seemed quite substantial. After Abir had mauled my tits under my top to his heart's content, he moved his hand sound and put it up my skirt.

The skirt was a bit tight, so this made it ride up, exposing my thighs. This was a bit much for me, even in my drunken state. It was one thing making out in front of the cabbie. But exposing me like this was a no-no.

I slapped Abir's hand away and pulled down my skirt. Abir just thought this was playful resistance and tried to put his hand up my skirt again.

"Abir, no!" I broke the kiss and said.

"What?" he said breathlessly.

"Not that. Not here."

"Oh come on!" Abir smiled and reached for my skirt again.

"I said NO!" I almost screamed and pushed him away with my hands against his chest.

"Come on.....I can't control myself." Abir said, a cross look on his face. "You've been stringing me along for over six months. Why are you being coy now?"

"Abir, I'm just..."

I was about to say that I was just feeling conscious of being exposed in front of the cabbie, and couldn't he just wait until we were at his apartment.

But before I could complete my sentence, Abir lunged at me again. He put his hand between my legs, trying to resume his earlier move. I flailed my hands in struggle and, quite by accident, ended up slapping Abir hard across his cheek.

Abir was stunned. He rubbed his cheek and then I saw anger flash in his eyes.

"YOU FUCKING COCKTEASE!"

And then he slapped me backhanded, across my face. My cheeks stung and tears sprang to my eyes.

------------

SCRRRRRRRRRRRCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I was in a daze, shocked at being slapped, and slapped hard. No matter what problems Rahul and I had, he had never raised his hand on me. My parents had also been non-believers in physical punishment. This was, quite literally, the first time I had been hit in my life. And I had no idea how to react. I just closed my eyes.

I didn't need to react.

That sound had been the sound of brakes being slammed really hard. The taxi came to a standstill, making me and Abir fall forward and the the back of the front seat.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!! SISTERFUCKER!!!!!"

I heard a voice that was not Abir's curse in Punjabi as I heard a door slammed open and shut.

I opened my eyes and saw the driver open the door on Abir's side and drag him out of the cab. The driver threw Abir on the footpath and started kicking him.

"MOTHERFUCKER...HITTING A WOMAN? HITTING A WOMAN, YOU FUCKING WIMP? HITTING A WOMAN IN MY CAB?"

I just sat where I was staring in disbelief and the driver rained kicks and punches down on Abir. Abir was not fighting back. He was drunk. But besides that, he was no match for this 6 foot plus burly sardar. Soon, I heard a sobbing sound. Abir was crying and begging not to be hit.

The driver stopped hitting him. Then he bent down and lifted Abir by the scruff of his neck and threw him to the side.

He then walked back to the driver's side, got in, slammed the door shut and drove off, the tires screeching as the rubber burnt against the asphalt, leaving Abir a sobbing mess by the side of the road.

After 30 seconds, the cab stopped by the side of the road.

"Fucking wimp." the driver spat out the window. "Where do you want to go, memsaab? Lokhandwala?"

"Huh?" I was still stunned at what had happened.

"Where do you want me to take you?"

"Oh..."

I told him my address. He nodded and started driving again.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the window. Not only was I in shock, I was starting to fully feel the effects of the copious amounts of booze I had downed. My head was swimming. My thoughts were garbled. I had no idea what to do next. Should I call Kriti? Rahul?

That's when my phone rang.It was Abir. I didn't answer.

"Thank you." I said to the driver. He just nodded.

I closed my eyes and sat in silence trying to sort my thoughts out.

Fifteen minutes later, the cab stopped in front of my apartment complex. The night guard was sitting in his booth. I poked my head out of the window and waved at him. He opened the gate.

The driver drove his cab towards the back of our 20-building complex and stopped the cab in front of my building. I looked at the meter. The fare was almost 400 rupees.

I opened my purse and fished around. I only found one 100 rupee note and a couple of 20s. I had to really focus to make sure it was 2 20s and not one which I was seeing two of. I wasn't expecting to be the last one in the cab so had completely forgotten that I was almost out of cash.

"Sorry....I....here..." I handed him the 140, "I have cash upstairs."

I opened the door and stumbled out, almost losing my balance. I stabilized myself by holding on to the taxi and said,

"You wait right here. I will be back with the money."

"It's okay, memsaab." the driver graciously said. "You can leave the cash with your watchman. I will collect it in a day or two."

"No no no no no!" I said shaking my head. "You have been....you helped....you're a hero. You deserve more! You are....hero!"

Being out of the cab and on my feet was making me realize just how fucking drunk I was.

"Seriously memsaab, just go home and sleep. Don't worry."

"Nonsense! Wait right here!" I said and turned around to walk into my building.

The distance to the lift was barely 30 feet. But the way I was feeling, it looked like a mile. The lift door seemed to be swaying side to side. I focused on it with all my concentration and then took a couple of steps resolutely. Suddenly, the lift door was replace by a glimpse of the sky. Only one star was visible. Why was there a star where the lift door should be?

"Memsaab, are you okay?" I felt two strong hands grab me and pull me upwards.

"Hey sardarji! How are you?" I giggled and said as his bearded and turbaned face interrupted my view of the sky.

He grabbed me by my arms and pulled me up. My knees buckled and if he wasn't holding me up, I'd have collapsed again.

"Memsaab, is there anyone at home who can take you upstairs?" is what I think he said.

I stared at him, barely registering his question. I vacantly looked into his eyes.

"Memsaab?"

"No one. I am all alone. Poor Janu is all alone." I sang.

"What floor do you live on?" he sighed and started leading me towards the elevator.

"Eight....five six seven eight!"

"What? Which one?"

"Eight! Five six seven eight! You remember that song? My boot scootin baby is drrrrrriiiving me....ULKKXXXX"

It came out of nowhere. Just a few feet away from the lift door, I puked. A lot of the beer and tequila mixed with french fries came gushing out and sprayed the driver's shirt and my top. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry.....I'm so sorry...." I started apologizing.

"Don't worry about it." he gruffly said. The muttered something to himself in Punjabi.

"I will buy your shirt....no...I will buy you a new shirt....and pants.....and a new taxi!"

"Okay."

Soon I found myself in the lift, propped against the wall. He hit 8.

With my hands, I tried to wipe the puke off my neck and arms. I also rubbed my top when I felt something move.

"My braaaaa, sardarji!"

"What?"

"That asshole unhooked my bra. And I forgot to hook it back!"

He just looked away.

I reached behind my back and tried to hook it over the fabric of my top. But if I was too drunk to stand still, I was certainly too drunk to manage something that complicated.

"Have you noticed you hardly see any stars in Bombay?"

"Hmmm."

"But you are my star. My hero!" I threw my arms around his big burly body.

"Memsaab, please, control yourself."

The lift stopped at the 8th floor. Now that I had puked out so much of the booze, I was able to walk a lot better. I walked saying towards my door and reached into my purse for the keys.

"Okay memsaab, take care." he turned around to get back in the lift.

"Nooooooooo! NONONO! Come with me!"

"Shhhhhh!" he said and walked towards me.

"I have to give you shirt money. Shirt. And money."

After several attempts, I managed to get the key in the lock and open the door. The driver warily followed me inside.

-------------------

"Wait here!" I instructed him and went to my bedroom. I took off my puke covered top and the bra. I put on a t-shirt that I often slept in. I then rummaged in my drawer until I found enough cash.

The big guy was standing nervously right inside the door. As I walked out, I saw that my puke had messed up most of his shirt and was also in his beard.

"Wash up." I said.

"What?"

"The bathroom is right there. Wash up. In fact, give me your shirt and I'll wash it."

"It's okay."

"I can't let my hero go out stinking of puke. I insist!" And I marched up to him.

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. I heard the sound of running water. A few seconds later, the door opened again and he held out his shirt. I walked to the washing machine and threw it inside.

12
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