The heart wants what it wants, but the mind plays the cinema that makes the heart relish the beauty of the right hemisphere. Such strong pangs unfurled in a moment of desire, that the heart and mind lose control, turning slaves to salacity. Or the way, the world around dreads and keeps in pants, the way the religions banish from even the thought and the way, humans have forgotten to be. To be the beasts, we inherited in our DNAs and the true nature of conquest, that has brought laurels as wealth and intelligence, to our present day. It’s not passion that drives us , but lust inching to insanity, that drives us to engage in the mundane world. To hide in the shadows of the normal, like the glowing eyes of the wolf treading back into the foliage, before leaping with the final blow.
It was the onset of summer in a southern city of India. The sun was to slowly unleash his wrath, but there was time, time enough to rejoice before the massacre. I set out on my motorcycle, maneuvering through the clouds of smoke and dust, like a ninja in the daylight. There was a subtle tension in my limbs, as I approached my destination. All but one image of this person, I was to meet, flashed like an HUD in my helmet. A demon covered in the darkest lacklustre ink, rising from a tub of nothingness. A sensuous being, who did not fear the world, a human who bared it all, for the world to see its own reflection of all the desires it holds within. I saw her swell bossom, her chiselled stomach, but striking of all, her vile eyes, calling out to me, to exhume my soul. As I thought of her, I couldn’t help notice the bulge under my abdomen. Alas, I had reached my destination.
I was to meet this woman from Tinder, one whom I had superliked, cause she was tantalizingly evil to look at. We had quite a chat, before she invited me over to this cafe, for a cup of chai (tea with milk; Indian). I stepped into the cafe and looked around. The place was comfortable and deserted. I was in relief, like a murderer in denial. I was an hour earlier than the date. As I sat at the table, I recollected, how she was married and still ventured out on dates, spreading free love and talking about polyamory on talk shows. If this was me, 10 years ago, I would have been bewildered at the sight of such blasphemy. But, this was me now, in my purest element, a manifestation of the suppression called societal norms. There was no other way, but the blatant truth.
She walked in with her dog, I did not acknowledge her arrival. She came to me and greeted and apologized for making me wait, which I immediately shrugged off. She gave me a tight hug and a feel of all that lied beneath the shame of clothing. It was like a current of a 1000 Amps passing through my nerves, but I put on a stoic face and spoke in an unaffected base. We sat down and as we spoke in the customary approach of acquainting ourselves, I doubtfully pushed a conversation with all my intuition, to face the music, “You know, it would be great when two people meet over a date, they should break into sex and acquaint themselves with their compatibility, rather than the societal norm of standards. And when the sex is out of the way, there is all the time in the world, to talk and discuss.” She didn’t seem shocked, but inquisitive and asked me why I felt so and slowly the walls of my scandal, started crumbling. I couldn’t look beneath her face, into her thoughts, but there something intriguing about her. Her Gothic hairstyle, the innumerable etchings on her skin or the twinkle in eyes. We spoke till the dusk was upon us, as we sipped Chai, ate biscuits and met her acquaintances at the cafe.
My confidence of getting anywhere near unbuttoning her felt vain, when I realized I had spoken so much about death, that the life that existed felt of no worth. As I was tidying up to bring our disastrous evening to a conclusion, she snatched my phone and fed her number onto my phone and exchanged numbers. I was partly relieved when she told that she had a good time, but it was only partly because she had total control demeanor and I felt she only meant good, despite the sewage of a mouth, I had flown. I got up, hugged her in defeat, but there was no loss of vigour, in her embrace. In the back of my head, I was thinking, maybe she is like that with everyone.
I trudged down to the parking lot, put on my helmet and had just turned on the symphony of my motorcycle to relieve me of the shame and escape, when I felt a ping in my pocket. I reached into my pocket, flipped the phone and turned the screen on….
To be continued….
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/g6r4im/the_vile_looking_for_feedback_to_continue_further