My sexuality has two contrasting sides to it. To persons who know me I am a monumental prude. Carmelite nuns would appreciate my style of dressing, and the strictest of matrons would approve of the way I behave with men, but inside wild fantasies rack me. Twice I acted out my fantasies. My experience is not unlike that of Dr. Jekyll who from time to time transformed into his other evil half and roamed the streets of London as Mr. Hyde. But my other half is far from being evil. The time and place for these transformations were not inappropriate either. Some may even say that this split personality theory I am advancing to explain myself is pure bunkum, and that I am just a wolf in sheep's clothing, a slut pretending to be a woman of virtue. They are welcome to hold such a view. Please read my story and find your own answer.
My name is Laila. I am twenty-five years old. I have a good figure. At five feet five inches I am tall for an Indian woman. From the way men look at me I assume I must be attractive. I was born and brought up in Chennai in India. I came to Boston when I was twenty-one on a scholarship. During the MS course I got very friendly with Vimal who was doing the same courses I chose. He is from Delhi. We have the same tastes in music, books, and movies both Indian and Western. We used to do what in India we call combined study. There was no physical intimacy between us. At times in movies Vimal had held my hand, but I used to take it away without making it appear that I dislike it. Vimal got the message and he was careful to respect my wishes. Once we went to Niagara. We stayed in different rooms. The sight of the happy honeymooners had no effect on me.
I have sexual fantasies in which Vimal figured quite frequently. I masturbate too, by rubbing myself. In my favourite fantasy I am lying nude in the balcony of my apartment and Vimal is hugging and fondling me, and we have sex with neighbours watching, and both of us are waving to them. For one with such florid exhibitionist fantasies to be so frigid in real life seems strange. A visit to the Grand Canyon changed all that.
We rented a car in LA and drove to a town called Williams where we booked rooms in a lodge. The lodge was an ancient one. There were several cottages spread out in a vast area of trees and shrubs. The owner, an old couple, were not maintaining the garden well for it was over grown with shrubs and small trees. It was cheap, and that was the reason we chose that place.
We unpacked and left for the Canyon. We stopped the car at the first viewpoint and goggled at the chasm. Vikram read the chart and identified some of the rocky formations. Then we moved to the next viewpoint and goggled at more rock formations, and then to the next and so on. Vimal applied a pair of binoculars to his eye.
"Can you see that group on horses as tiny points," he said. I peered through the glasses.
"Not horses Vimal, mules. Horses are not noted for surefootedness." It was our habit to update each other with information. He applied the glasses to his eyes once again and spotted another group a little higher up.
"See that group," he said pointing. "They are on foot." It was his turn to update me. "Walking all the way down is possible but one has to stay overnight and climb up the next day. One has to take permits for that." I had a look at the trekkers.
"I'd like to go down some distance," said Vikram. "Coming?"
"I don't mind having a shot at it," I said.
"Thank you," said Vikram and took out the brochure to investigate trekking routes.
"Bright Angel Trail and South Kaibab Trail," said Vikram. "I think we have passed the South Kaibab Trailhead. Soon we will come to the Bright Angel Trailhead. I suggest that we go down. Short distance only for the brochure repeatedly emphasises the difficulty of climbing up."
At the Bright Angel Trailhead we saw the road winding down for about 200 yards and then switch back in a hairpin bend and after two more bends it disappeared. When it reappeared it was a great distance away.
"Come Laila, we'll start."
The descent was by no means easy but I managed. Each turn brought a new spectacular view of the canyon. We identified the lodge where those who had made the reservations stayed for the night. For the first time the Colorado River, the cause of all the mischief, came into view.
"One thousand nine hundred," said Vikram.
"What's that?"
"We have strode that number of paces," explained Vikram. "Two paces make a metre; when we have done two thousand paces we pass the one kilometre mark. It may not be wise to go further." I agreed. Vikram counted two thousand and stopped. We sat on a boulder and enjoyed the view.
"Ready?' asked Vikram. I got up for the climb up. The top seemed far away. The misery on the face of those climbing up was not encouraging. I kept my misgivings to myself.
The climb up was difficult from the very start. Soon we were huffing and puffing. Then suddenly I developed palpitations. I stood unsteadily till Vikram held me by the hand and made me sit on a boulder.
"Feel my pulse Vikram." He counted for a minute and said it was 100.
"I am better now," I declared after a while. "In a minute or two we can restart." We did so, and climbed very slowly. We did two hundred yards and stopped—a stiff climb lay ahead. I climbed slowly and a very anxious Vikram walked behind me, ready to catch me if I should fall backwards. I climbed with steely determination and made it to the top of the steep ground and rested for a while and started again. It was then that I collapsed. Vikram caught me before I hit ground, and carried me to a flat grassy patch of on the side of the path and laid me down. He sat down and I rested my head on his lap. The panting gradually subsided. I gestured that I was ready to resume but Vikram restrained me.
"Rest for five more minutes by my watch. I think we can make it to the top by one or two more planned rest stops." I rested as advised and then sat up.
"I am tight round the chest, Vikram. Please undo by bra hook." Vikram lifted my T-shirt at the back and unhooked the bra. I took deep breaths to signal my relief.
"I am ready," I said. I got up gingerly and slowly climbed one short stretch holding on to Vikram, and then rested. Two more rest stops and we were in sight of the trailhead. The climb was over. I stretched on the lawn. Soon I was my normal self. We drank two cans of coke each and declared that we were happy we did not miss the trekking adventure. The drive to Williams was a straight as a ruler drawn line.
"We start at 10 sharp tomorrow," said Vikram.
I woke up. It was two in the morning. I was thirsty. I drank half a bottle of water. It was hot in spite of the confident purring of the air-conditioner. I changed the setting to 'colder' but the machine started rattling. I had to turn it down to 'cold' again. I looked out. The moon was shining brightly. I opened the door and peered out. It was cool outside. I went out and closed the door and sat on the steps with my back resting on the door. I saw movement in the hedge to the right. I got up hurriedly and was on the point of going in when I heard Vikram speak.
"Vikram here. Is it you, Laila?"
"Yes. What are you doing there?"
"Same as you. Cooling off. Come here. A cool breeze is blowing." Vikram had spread a sheet under a hedge on the grass and was reclining on two pillows like a maharaja in his harem. He hospitably offered a pillow. I sat by his side and we talked of our canyon adventure. Like all canyon visitors we also made rough plans of making it to the bottom of the canyon some time in the near future. Few ever do.
I yawned. Vikram made room for me and invited me to stretch. He sat by my side. I got up with a jerk.
"I must have dozed off," I said.
"I fear it was more than a doze. You were soundly asleep for half an hour," said Vikram. He sat with his back resting on the trunk of the hedge.
"You must be sleepy too, why don't to lie down." He is reluctant so I pull him down. We lay side-by-side holding hands. The combination of bright moonlight, soft breezes, and the closeness that the drama of the climb up had imposed on us started a chain reaction that we could not have controlled even if we had wanted to. We were hugging and kissing. I am vague about what happens next. It is all like a dream. Vimal is on top of me. Yes my thighs are wide open. No, he did not do that. I spread it. He enters me. I was laying still and he is moving up and down, first slowly and then very rapidly. He applies his lips to mine and I am responding. At one point some saliva drips out of his mouth and I lick it. I am sure I lick it for even in that zombied state I am surprised that his saliva is tasteless. He rolls over and I get up and rush to my room, now fully in possession of my senses.
I ran to the bathroom. I felt unclean. It was when I removed the nightdress that I noted the spot of blood, the visible symbol of lost virginity. I do not know why, but the sight of that smear of blood jolted me. I held the spot in front of me and sobbed hysterically. I sobbed as I bathed. I had to clean my inside too. I lay back in the tub and with the handset turned to a jet I douched myself. I wiped and lay down. Knocks at the door wakened me.
"It's I," said Vikram. You have half an hour for breakfast," he said.
"Please do not wait for me. I'll join you at the breakfast place," I said.
When I entered the dining hall except Vikram, who was sipping coffee, there was no one there. I collected bread slices and butter and coffee and sat at a different table. Vikram gulped the coffee and came to my table.
"Laila?" he said. I looked up. He could not have missed hostility in my glare.
"Sore with me?"
"Why sore with you. I was equally to blame."
"Will you permit me to say a few words?" he said. I nodded coldly.
"I have always been your admirer, Laila. What I am going to say is not something I have conjured up today." He had more to say but I was so obviously disinclined to hear him that Vikram came to the point at once. "Laila will you please marry me?" I was not willing to make eye contact with him. I looked steadily at the teacup. Then I looked up and spoke
"Thanks for asking, but my answer is a definite no."
"Please Laila. I am prepared to wait any length of time so please consider again."
"Thanks again, but if you sincerely like me please do me a favour."
"Of course. What's that," said Vikram eagerly.
"Till we get back to Boston we'll behave as if nothing had happened, but after that please avoid me. Not difficult in this vast country, but if chance brings you near me please do me the favour of getting away. Please promise?" Vikram stood looking at me uncomprehendingly. I got up and moved away. Without a backward look I turned the corner.
Later I reviewed my behaviour; I must confess that it was bewildering. I liked him, and may be I loved him too. I found him sexually attractive or else he would not have been my prime fantasy object. We were matched in every way yet I rejected him so rudely. I was still angry I do not with whom. I must be insane. I cannot explain in any other way.
I wanted to get away; I moved to Okalahoma City. I did not take leave of Vikram. I quickly got back into my routine. One day a young Indian sat next to me during a lecture. After the lecture he introduced himself as Bala. He was from the southern state of Kerala. We had coffee in a fast food restaurant. The next day as I was entering the hall Bala saw me and gestured me to sit by his side. We had lunch in the canteen and soon a relationship developed. This went on for three months. One evening we were on a park bench when Bala proposed. I jerked back in surprise.
"I have just proposed marriage, Laila. Surprised?"
"It was so unexpected."
"What's your answer anyway?"
"You must give me time till tomorrow," I said.
I thought about myself and was unhappy at the way my life was progressing. I have never set any goals before me. I drifted along. To others, especially in India, I was a model to follow. I joined a course, did well and applied for the next as most did, again did well and applied this time to an university in the U.S., again as most did, and so on till I had my doctorate. If anyone were to ask me, and many do, as to what I propose to do after I qualify I had no answer. Stay on in the U.S? May be. Back to India? May be
I developed a relationship, and I continued it with no thought of where it would lead. If anyone had asked me (no one did) what my idea was in continuing a relationship with Vikram, honestly I would have to say that I had not thought about it at all. Vikram knew what he wanted. If I had been like him I would also have known that our friendship ought to end in marriage. I was not thinking about it at all hence my anger when that night circumstances forced me into a position where I had to decide. I did not like to be so cornered. Now I had a glimmer of explanation for my bewildering behaviour that day. The time was ripe for me to stop drifting. I decided to accept Bala's proposal.
Both sets of parents, and relatives living in the U.S. on both sides (and they were many) attended the wedding. Our 'first night' was in San Francisco. The next afternoon we were to take a flight to Hawaii for the honeymoon. The most momentous occasion in an Indian woman's life, the first night, found me with no feeling at all for the event—no excitement, no anxiety, and no fear. But that was to change dramatically.
The room had a scenic window with a view of the bay. Bala pulled the curtain across. Suddenly I had a surge of feeling that I have never experienced before. I was full of lust. Yes lust, not excitement, not anxiety, not fear, but lust.
"Why are you doing that?" I asked. The building closest to us, a residential tower, was two blocks away. "Only with binoculars can those in the building be able to see us"
"If you do not mind I don't," he said as he drew back the curtains fully. I was standing looking out of the window. Bala came to my side and kissed me. I turned my head to face him and we kissed on the lips. He undid the zip of my nightdress. The dress dropped and I stood naked before him. I had no feeling of shame at all. I was no more concerned of my nakedness than any nude model. I who never even wore a sleeveless blouse was naked before a man, and was not ashamed.
He ran his fingers over my breast.
"Do they feel as if they have been fondled?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"How do you say?"
"Well, they are defiant. Not even the sag one would expect in breasts of this size."
"You like them?"
"They are magnificent."
"Did you expect it to be?"
"From your figure I expected it to be so."
"Not that. About not being fondled."
"I was not speculating on that." He found it funny. He laughed.
"Glad that it is not?"
"I can't say that it does not matter to me."
"Are you sure that I am a virgin?"
"One can never be. It does not bother me one way or the other."
"Inconsistent, aren't you. Happy that I may not have been fondled, but unconcerned if I am a virgin or not?"
"Seems inconsistent, but that is my feeling." He stood behind me holding my breasts. I could feel his hard penis against the small of my back.
"Would you be looking for blood in my clothing? I believe Indian men do so."
"I would not."
"How literate are you in matters concerning sex?" I asked.
"Previous experience?"
"Not that. I mean have you read about sex, say Havelock Ellis or Kinsey?"
"Not much, but I do a lot of Internet surfing for pornography. I like it. You?
"Kinsey I have read, but like most women I find pornography boring."
"If you had read Kinsey you must know a lot," he said.
"I have a lot of general knowledge including matters concerning sex. In India I was in the college quiz team that won three years in a row. We had a coach to guide us in preparing for the tournaments. I still work on my general knowledge as if I have a competition ahead. A nice way of spending spare time. What do you think of threesomes and foursomes?"
"I used to fantasy but now I am not sure," he said.
I turned round and hugged him. He was still wearing his shirt and pyjamas. I removed his shirt and undid the pyjama tape. He was naked too. I pushed him down on the sofa. I took one step towards him. His eyes were in level with my vulva.
"You don't shave," he said.
"I trim it. Do you like it clean shaven?"
"Yes."
"Can I do so now?"
"Not that urgent."
"Kiss me there," I said. I came closer to him and placed one foot on the sofa, and with two hands spread out the inner leaves of my vulva and asked him to lick. He did so expertly on the clitoris. I should have felt a thrill pass through me. Nothing happened. I moved to the bed.
"Do you want me to put off the light," he asked.
"You want it?"
"I would like the lights to be on."
"I do too. Some men with binoculars in those rooms would be lucky," I said and laughed. It was Bala's turn to tease me.
"So your fantasy is to be seen when you are having sex," he said.
"I do sometimes," I admitted. "You?"
"I would be turned on."
"Would you be turned on if someone sees me naked?"
"I might. I am not sure."
"You must be familiar with these voyeur sites where men post mostly photos of their wives in the nude. Do you like them?"
"The photos, I like them."
"The attitude of the men; do you think they are bizarre?"
"No. I can understand why they do it. I turns them on.
"If I pose for a set of nude photos would you post them if you can do it without revealing my identity?"
"I would," he said after a brief delay. "Are you surprised? May be annoyed too?"
"Neither," I said, "I must say that you are a honest man. The comments would be pretty crude. Would that excite you?"
"The obscene ones I'll delete. But if a man expresses a wish to have sex with you I might not mind it."
"Will it turn you on?" He took time to answer.
"Yes," he said finally.
"What would be your feeling if I appear in public in the nude?"
"Public, no," he said.
"When I said public I did not mean out in the open. Suppose I stood nude in this room when the person comes to change linen? Would it turn you on?"
"It would. You?"
"I would be amused," I said. "Why that wry smile."
"You are daringly outspoken. I did not expect that," he said.
"I am more surprised than you could possibly be," I said.
We hugged and kissed.
He came closer. I touched his erect penis and ran my fingers up and down the shaft.
"Why that wry smile?" he asked.
"Your penis waving about is quite funny to look at." I retracted the foreskin and exposed the pink glans.
"Like it?"
"Rather."
I lay back and spread out my thighs. He came up and tried to insert but the penis was flailing about. He could not control its movements. He tried holding his penis with one hand but he was losing his balance. I held it and inserted it. My vagina was dry, but the penis went in. I wondered how Vikram did it for I am sure I was not helping him. Or may be I was. The dryness was uncomfortable. But I moved my hips and he ejaculated. We washed and lay side by side.
"I want some coffee," I said. Bala rang for room service and ordered. He got up and put on his pyjamas. I just lay with no clothes on. The bell rang. Bala turned to see if I was aware that the bell had rung. Once he knew I was aware of it he opened the door. The waiter, a young and handsome Hispanic, carried the tray with the coffee pot in. I lay naked. He placed the tray on the table.
"Can you mix some coffee?' I asked him.
"I can, madam, light or strong?" He looked up. The hotel must be training its waiters well for he was outwardly unconcerned. His crotch showed an erection though. Controlling that of course is beyond any training schedule.
"Strong, with extra sugar," I said. I darted a glance at Bala. He stood watching us with a bemused smile. I got up and sat on the sofa in front of the waiter. I parted my thighs to give him an unimpeded view of my vulva. He handed me the cup. I sipped.
"Good madam," he said smiling.
"Good, but half a spoonful of sugar would make it excellent," I said. He accepted the cup across the table. I put my feet on the sofa with thighs separated. He had to come across while handing over the cup. I lent back further. His eyes were very close to my exposed and spread out vulva as I accepted the coffee. He bowed and left hurriedly.
"Keep the door open," I said. "He is hurrying to the rest room to jerk off," I told Bala. He laughed. This episode aroused Bala. Even as I was sipping he was beside me sucking my nipple. I sipped coffee unconcerned by the slurping sound that he producing in his excitement. I offered him a sip. He sipped and then got on his knees in front of me and started licking. I was not responding. After a while I leaned back and Bala came forwards. I had to slip down the sofa to get the alignment necessary to insert his penis into my vagina. This time it went in easily. The waiter episode had apparently stimulated some secretion in me. The door was wide open. Over Bala's shoulder I could see the corridor, but no one passed that way. Bala ejaculated. I thought I had done enough for an orgasm, but I did not get one. We slept.
In Hawaii Bala must have been disappointed with me. I who promised so much on the first night did not deliver. I was now my old prude self. But that did not prevent him from trying to emulate the actions of his porn heroes. It was amusing to see this serious and very learned man (he was six years my senior in age) having a desire for porn. I hinted that of my orifices only the vagina was available for experimentation. He accepted without demur. He found out quite soon that the porn artists were professional sex athletes that he and I were not. Woman on top was good for the penis went in all the way, but the woman has to move up and down carrying her entire weight with the feet planted in an awkward position.
I was exhausted after two moves. We tried the doggie. I had to contort before he could enter and only the glans went in. Woman facing backwards did not work at all. He showed me from the clips he had saved in his laptop of how the professionals did it. It looked easy enough, but we were not able to get even to first base. But the one Bala fancied most was a clip in which two standing passengers in a crowded bus have sex. The man is entering the woman from behind, and the woman is holding the passenger support and leaning forwards but slightly. He is well and truly in and I must confess that it got even me interested. We tried and failed.
"My penis is not long enough," Bala said ruefully.
We settled down in an apartment in Austin, Texas where both of us had nine to five jobs. By I stopped trying to get motivated for sex. The lusty part of me, after that one visit, was on long vacation. I lay back and did some acting to convince Bala that I was participating. I never had an orgasm. There was no danger of pregnancy for we decided to wait for some time before having a family. I was on the pill because Bala did not like to use the condom. For a newly married couple our life was dull.
Nine months later one day I met someone I knew in Boston, a girl from Bangalore. During the course of the conversation she mentioned that Vikram had gone to India soon after he graduated. He was back again a month ago and was in San Jose in California. Thoughts of Vikram disturbed me. Of course it was not as if I had forgotten him, but now I suddenly missed him. The same day I called his office and got him straightaway.
"Vikram?"
"Laila," he almost screeched. We talked about what happened to us since the time we parted. We never referred to the event. Vikram knew that I was now married. He was single, and he was quite emphatic when he said he had no woman companion. We agreed to call again in a few days time.
That evening Bala wanted to know what made me look so sad. I said it was nothing. He left it at that. Three days later I called Vikram again. Something in me impelled me to call. We spoke for almost an hour. This time we got our rhythm right. Bala again wanted to know why I was sad. I told him I was all right. I woke up at night at about two. I felt like weeping. I went to the bathroom and sat on the stool and wept my eyes out. The next morning Bala again wanted to know what was bothering me.
"I heard you sobbing last night in the bathroom. What's the matter?"
"Nothing," I said.
"No it is not nothing. I was no ordinary sobbing, like say after a bereavement."
"What can be more than that?"
"Lost love, for example." I had nothing to say. After a while Bala spoke again. "If it is thoughts of any former friend of yours that is the cause of your misery you have to meet him if he is here in the States."
"How do you know that it was former friend?"
"My sixth sense tells me."
"Meet him?"
"Yes, you have to."
"I'll be meeting him anyway in the conference at San Francisco a fortnight from now." Bala did not refer to the topic again.
I left by Greyhound to San Francisco. Bala saw me off. I do not know why but I had the feeling that we may not be meeting each other soon. He must have felt like that too for he spoke as follows:
"Any decision of yours will be acceptable to me," he said. Then he gave me the best advice I have ever had. "You live from one day to the next. That won't do. String them together to form a pattern."
I sleep well while travelling. The bus was turning into San Francisco bus station when I woke up. I do not think I was so excited at any time in my life. I could see the tremor in my hands. I saw Vikram standing in one corner. As I got down he came forward. I ran towards him and we hugged and kissed. We have never hugged and kissed before, but it did not seem that we were doing so for the first time. I went to the place were most women delegates were boarding. Soon we were at the conference. Most of the time we were holding hands, and from time to time when while darting glances our eyes met we smiled. I was undoubtedly in love. The only snag was that I was married to someone else. After the morning session we went for lunch where an accident occurred. One delegate overturned his tray on me. He splashed me with coffee and some cheesy stuff that was all over my hair and back. With the assistance of Vikram most of the goo came off but I had to wash and change. Vikram suggested that his hotel was near and I could bathe and put on his clothes while he would get mine washed and dried. This sounded a good suggestion and we made it to the hotel.
I went into the bathroom and undressed. Even the knickers were sodden. I put them all in a bucket and pushed it out. I got into the tub. I saw Vikram's gleaming silver and black razor leaning in one corner. I do not know what magic there was in it but it did to me what the potion did to Dr. Jekyll. From now on I was acting in a way utterly foreign to me. I took the razor and after soaping my vulva and surrounding pubis I sat on a stool and resting my feet on the tub's rim I carefully removed hair from every crevice.. I examined my self in the mirror. I was pleased with the result. I bathed and wiped and put on the shirt Vikram provided. I did not wear his pyjamas. Attired only in the thin shirt that hardly came to my mid thighs I sauntered out.
Vikram was a very decent man who knew what is the proper behaviour for a man towards a married woman. But I knew there were limits to any man's resistance. I wanted to provoke Vikram till he cracked. When he saw me he goggled. I have heard that term used often enough, but rarely have I seen it happen. His eyes opened wide. Nothing new there, but they then protruded out. I had never seen that happen before. He swallowed. His mouth must have been dry.
"Take a sip of water and steady yourself," I said. I went to the cupboard and took out a tumbler and filled it with chilled water and came up to him. He sat on a sofa and when he looked up to receive the tumbler he could not but have seen my vulva, bare and gleaming, not a foot away from his eyes. His eyes seemed to be saying 'why are you subjecting me to this trial?'
"I used your razor," I said. I lifted by the shirt and rubbed the glassy smooth surface of my pubic mound. "I was not sure what your preference was, smooth or natural. I just acted on a whim. You may have to change the blade. I was honoured to use what you have used, but you may not feel like reciprocating." I undid the buttons of the shirt. I was now fully open frontally. He appeared to be in a state of suspended animation. Not surprising when a prude to beat all prides suddenly transforms to a slut to beat all sluts.
"Speak up Vikram. You have to say something."
"I am not made of steel," he said in a hoarse voice.
"I want you to be so hot that you will melt as I already have," I said. I took a step closer to him. My hand went to his head. I entwined my fingers in his hair and gently pulled his head towards my vulva. He brought his head forward and kissed me on my slit. And then his resistance broke. He gripped my buttocks and licked me in frenzy. I slowly moved round and sat on the sofa with thighs spread. He was kneeling on the carpet, fingers separating the minor labia, and licking my clitoris. He licked and licked and I responded and then he suddenly stopped licking for a moment, and just as I was wondering why he resumed, but now in slow deep swipes. It was then that my body shivered as if powerful current was passing up and down my spine. Orgasm that was eluding me all these months now made a spectacular appearance. It came in spasms. I was moaning as I soaked it up. It was grand. I lay on the carpet with thighs widely spread desperate to receive him.
"Vikram darling, I want you me in at once," I said. He hurriedly undressed and was on top of me. His penis was large and I could see it throbbing. I caught hold of it and inserted it into my vagina. It went in smoothly for I was wet with my secretions. I moved this way and that till he was snugly in. I was burning hot, and so he must have been. He ejaculated just as I was climaxing. It was glorious. I asked him to wait and then when I waved him on. I had one more. We lay with Vikram still on top but not resting on me. He spoke.
"Will you marry me my precious?"
"I will my darling." I said. I pulled the telephone cord till the receiver fell on the carpet. I dialled.
"Bala, I am not coming back—for ever."
"Wish you happiness," he said in a tone that seemed to suggest that he was expecting the message. "Enjoy yourself. I'll arrange everything else. Bye." He rang off.
Vikram and I finally found solace in each other's arms. But one regret remains. When I think how horribly I treated the two extraordinarily decent and broadminded men who came into my life I squirm. It is my resolve that from now on I would be different. With God's help I know I can.
