Audacious Love

By Ramnarain Subrun

During a bus trip by international students to the Taj Mahal in India a male student cedes his seat to a girl who is having difficulties standing. A few minutes later she turns behind to thank him for his kindness.
What isn’t her shock to discover a handsome strongly built fellow? There is a thunder clap and she falls madly in love with him. She turns behind a few times, smiles at him. He, in turn, can’t resist her beauty. He falls in love………
They’re the happiest lovers and a passionate romance ensues….
Villainous third parties intervene to introduce religious differences to mar their happiness….
A conspiracy is planned to destroy the happiness of the two innocent lovers……..

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483527925

Book preview

9781483527925

Chapter One

Arriving at the airport, Robin trusted his luggage to a porter. In a hesitant manner he entered the lobby, imagining how long he’ll have to wait in the queue. But, contrary to expectation, he was pleased to observe that the lines for the internal flights were not long. Accordingly his usual cheerfulness reappeared to brighten his handsome face. Robin was a tall guy, with well developed biceps visible from his short sleeve Tshirt. He hummed softly thinking how lucky he was.

Suddenly the loudspeaker blared in a lady’s dry voice, Flight number IA225 scheduled to leave at 12.30 has been delayed due to some technical problems. Indian Airlines are sorry for all inconveniences caused to passengers. Thank you.

Ouch! The same stale story with this airline! one passenger commented.

What the hell is this? another more angry man uttered.

Anyway it’s better than travel in a defective plane that can explode in the sky! a man afraid to die said.

Why can’t they put new planes instead of the old and unreliable ones, said someone who was used to travel by these planes.

They make lots of money but we don’t know what happens to all the profits, a regular passenger commented.

Passengers are impotent before such trite announcements. They accept it docilely, scared that a defective plane would place their lives at risk.

Why the engineers wait for the last moment to have the plane repaired? someone sneered.

Always the same story! an angry woman said.

What, do they do proper servicing? another angry passenger demanded. Poor management! he added.

There was a British tourist; he was little bit frustrated. Someone asked him politely, Does it happen in Britain also, Sir?

He replied diplomatically, Very rarely! And there is much criticism when such a thing happens. He was a tourist obviously having plenty of free time at his disposal. He was used to such third world inefficiencies.

Here it happens almost everyday, the angry fellow commented.

When shall we reach European standards? a woman added. She had lost patience with all those shortcomings of the country.

Sometimes a powerful politician or a minister is late. The plane has to wait for him. And certainly a pretext - technical problems! chuckled a middle-aged man. No way of verifying!

It was the internal flight of the Indian Airlines to Delhi initially scheduled to take off at 12.30pm had unexpectedly been delayed by almost two hours. People protested, they complained and they grumbled for a short time. As there was no one to hear their complaints or give an explanation they quietly resumed their seats.

Most passengers felt totally exhausted at the Bombay Airport lounge. They had travelled from different places in the scorching midday heat, without forgetting the stressful traffic jams on the roads. Furthermore, the atmosphere in the crowded lounge was unbearable, choking with human heat and sweat. The air conditioning was hopelessly ineffective and inadequate – a phenomenon of the third world inefficiency. It was aggravated by the continuous loud chattering of coolies and loud-mouth rural passengers. And the little babies were continuously whining incapable to suffer the heat in that closed space.

All those events worsened everybody’s discomfort. Apparently time seemed to drag on very slowly, adding to the uneasiness of young Robin. Anyhow he wasn’t at all in any hurry. He was still thinking about the separation far from his doting parents, pals and peers for the first time. He was on his way to the Delhi University where he had secured admission for a degree course. For killing time and keeping his mind focussed on something useful and to reduce the irritating stress, he decided studying the heterogeneous crowd in more details.

It was the lounge for internal flights. Most passengers were Indians travelling to various destinations in the sub-continent. As his sitting position didn’t give him a clear view he moved listlessly to a corner, not to arouse suspicion. He stood there with legs crossed and arms folded, leaning against the wall. His handbag was lying on the floor close to his feet. Slowly his eyes roved from one person to another like a leopard eyeing its prey before the final attack. He was careful not to give rise to any embarrassing remark.

Firstly he observed the different assortments of clothing of the Indian women, wearing their traditional saris. These were brightly coloured with glittering beads and silvery tinsels highlighting various floral designs. Without difficulty he categorized them. Those apparently from the rural areas had partially covered their faces and shyly looking down. From the cosmopolitan city of Mumbai were those more smartly and fashionably dressed in costly chiffon and silk, with lots of make up. Their lips were glistening in red, orange and pink colours with the lip gloss making them shine brightly.

Proudly they talked and looked around with fascination and some exaggerated gesticulations. A few wore their saris in such a fashionable manner that all their curves were highlighted with large chunks of bare waist sexily displayed. In few cases the naked midriff went down below the navel just inches above the black Bermuda triangle. What a pleasure for the marauding eyes of lustful youth! Even the old men with their greying moustaches enjoyed those sights thinking of their young days. The Mumbai women conversed in English displaying their erudition and sophistication. At the same time they maintained a distinguished attitude for the purpose of differentiating themselves from the common rural folk.

One striking fashion prevalent amongst all those women was the bareness of the waist. The few obese women had layers of fats hanging in folds not tempting anyone to have a second look while those slim female waists appeared sexily attractive, smooth, slightly pink appealing for a sensuous touch. They all displayed their belly button and some provokingly tied their saris a few inches below that point. And Robin, as the situation permitted, without any doubt, sneaked a second look in admiration, enhancing the pleasure of his eyes. He opined that such an erotic way of dressing was especially gratifying to the lewd and lusty men. Not to mention a few with bare backs, a tiny string attached at the back. Truly speaking the back looked naked only the bum was covered. Sexy! Interesting!

Some women were wearing anklets, made of gold or silver. They produced various sounds depending on the cadence of the walk. Nonetheless the melody produced couldn’t be described as undesirable. Robin later learned that no Indian woman apparently showed her bare legs in public; it was considered an indecent stigma. That was the reason why girls didn’t wear skirts. The Indian society was ironically a very conservative one. They didn’t wear mini-jupe or dresses because it was offensive to show the thigh. However, they showed the midriff, large parts of it which was more tempting than the bare thighs. An inexplicable paradox!

The Indian men, particularly the rural folks, were also dressed in different styles. Some were wearing a white cotton fabric around their waist falling down to the ankles, others a loin cloth turned round the legs with some type of a shirt covering the bust. There were also a few religious people wearing the safran clothes with white marks on the front, a peculiarity distinguishing them for their religiosity. Many sensible persons decried them as parasites exploiting the credulous masses. They enjoyed a good life from alms received while the masses toiled hard and didn’t have enough to eat. Moreover, under cover of their holiness they sexually abused the credulous women. They paradoxically sneered at the hands that fed them. Ridiculous!

One remarkable feature of most Indian men was the growing of the hereditary moustache on the upper lips. It wasn’t a temporary fad but a permanent fashion. Obviously to show their manliness! They carried proudly their moustaches of different shapes and sizes, some bushy, some thin and short bristling, some drooping almost covering the lower lip. One unique adult funnily possessed a walrus moustache. How those men possessing long bushy moustaches, time and again, artfully handled, caressed or turned upwards their moustaches showily as if urging the onlookers to admire them. Growing the moustache was a symbol of pride for the Indian men. Robin wondered how those people could eat without soiling the long moustaches. That was their age-old tradition that they adhered to very strictly.

Another prominent feature was the wearing of turban. It was almost impossible to find someone with a hat. It would be an oddity if ever one could be found. Most Sikhs could be easily identified by their traditional turbans and beards. Indian Muslims kept long unkempt beard but without their moustaches. Apart from them most elderly Indians were wearing turbans. There is no unique way of tying turbans. Different folks have different ways of tying it. The rural farmers usually tie their turbans loosely and in a disorderly manner. Some persons wore it in such a fashion that they left behind a smallish tail of the cloth hanging below the nape. But there were a few who tied the turban tight so that they looked handsome. As India is normally described as a world in itself, one can easily come across a variety of costumes, of different styles.

They were all speaking loudly in a multitude of folk languages, incomprehensible to pick out even a word. Robin easily picked out the people from Bombay. They were not only smartly dressed but they talked in perfect English in a lower tone. They undoubtedly maintained a rather haughty attitude. They thus displayed their level of civilization. Those whose flights had been delayed could be recognized by their tensed facial expressions. They had been waiting in the unaccommodating lounge for more than two hours. They’re relentlessly criticizing both the government as well as the executives who were decried as political bootlickers.

Whooooop! Robin breathed out a sigh of relief when it was announced that his flight had been okayed. At last those tiresome long minutes came to an end. All impatient passengers hurriedly crowded the exit gate for boarding the plane, behaving as if they were scared of missing the flight, notwithstanding. Robin couldn’t understand such futile urgency after the long delay. Maybe they’re in a hurry to leave the uncongenial lounge for the more comfortable plane!

At the entrance to the plane an air hostess greeted all the passengers according to the Indian custom with both hands clasped before her chest, smiling and softly uttering ‘namaste’ – the cultural heritage that they tend to perpetuate. Another checked the boarding passes and pointed to the respective seat. Robin’s was at the furthest end, the last row. After locking his small hand luggage in the booth overhead, he made himself comfortable in his seat. He was occupying the middle seat so he kept himself ready for letting anyone taking the corner one. Finally he realised that he had the three seats to himself. Gradually in the coolness his good humour crept in, enabling him to look around casually, as if studying his position.

Excuse me, Sir! Fasten your seat-belt, please! a hostess requested him with her perennial smile.

After a few bumps the plane taxied along the runway, gaining speed before taking off. As it attained higher altitude the flight became smooth with only the engine noises roaring outside. A young girl occupying a seat in the front row cried complaining that her ears were aching terribly. She pressed her ears hard with her two hands. Someone said that as the plane gained altitude the change in atmospheric pressure was the cause of it and that the pain would stop shortly. Robin also felt a strange sensation in his ears from the whizzing sound but it disappeared as he rubbed it off a few times.

A short moment after a mild perfume wafted subtly in the air and filled his nostrils. He innocently turned his head behind for finding its origin. His eyes fell on an air hostess busying herself with the juice trolley, a metre behind. Her back was turned towards him as she was bending, evidently arranging the items that she would be serving to all passengers. This movement did not last too long and he turned to look in front of him, thinking of relaxing and closing his eyes for a while.

Anything to drink, Sir?

He thought he had heard the sweetest voice ever. He opened his eyes wide.

You want some juice, Sir? The same melodious voice, now hardly a few centimetres from his face, was accompanied with a bright smile that enchanted him momentarily. Something indescribable instantly happened to him. He was awestruck and felt an electric current pass through him at lightning speed. He couldn’t answer. Words didn’t easily come out even though he opened his mouth to say something. She had such a stunning beauty. Oh my god! he just whispered staring bewilderingly.

She repeated, Mango juice or orange juice, Sir?

Am sorry please; I’ll take some orange juice; no, no, I think I prefer mango juice! Sorry I’m getting confused, he stammered. He wanted to add your beauty confused me but refrained.

She poured the juice in a plastic tumbler, added some ice cubes and gently offered him. Throughout that whole process, his eyes didn’t wink at all. He was at a loss in complete admiration. He had never ever set his eyes on such a beauty, never. For sure! So near! Serving him! A soft string in his heart vibrated sending a pleasant wave of emotion to all his body parts. It aroused a novel sensation that he had never before experienced. He even sensed a slight quiver all over and his heart throb accelerated as never before. Without forgetting the intoxicating perfume!

What is happening to me, he whispered to himself.

She moved along concentrating in her task but he was inevitably destabilized sentimentally. He reflected on what he had just set his eyes upon. What a beauty! She had such regular features with almond shaped dark eyes that were magnified with the black kohl she had used to line her eye lashes. The shine in her eyes was irresistible; it had a bewitching effect on him. He badly desired to have another look into those eyes. It was impossible to divert his gaze from that magnetic attraction that she embodied now.

He quickly drank the juice for fear of spilling it on his clothes, lifting the plastic tumbler with a slightly trembling hand. The chilled juice temporarily soothed and calmed his excited feelings. Now he badly wanted another peek at those bright eyes and the marvellous beauty. How? What should he do now? He shifted his position from the middle seat to the wing so that he had a clear view along the aisle. On the other hand the young hostess, occupied in her duty was putting in some effort to push forward the heavy trolley of drinks. Definitely she was more attractive than those Bollywood heroines that he actually fancied very much. He compared her to the fashion models whose body was slim and trim, exquisitely admirable. How his thoughts moved from one cinema star to another, comparing the beauty he had just cast his eyes upon.

Yes! he admitted softly, The most beautiful creature on earth is a beautiful woman! I want to help her push that heavy trolley. How she is exerting herself? he pitied her.

Instinctively all his concentration was focussed on his new cynosure and on her alone. His eyes were transfixed, unable to move them away. How he studied her in detail? He admired her uniform, that bluish silk sari with small floral designs in emerald green. She looked like a paragon of perfection. Her naked waist curved on both sides to form a regular arc on each side. It fascinated him beyond description. But sincerely hers was not as indecent as those he had seen at the airport lounge. He made visions of how wonderful it would be to caress tenderly that tempting part of her body. Instantly he deprecated his perverse feelings but he couldn’t help it. He thought he was being silly, still he couldn’t resist that temptation. In the departure lounge his serenity had already been disturbed by such similar sights but not as exquisite as hers.

What should I do? he couldn’t control his agitated feelings at all. He fidgeted slightly.

There is magic in the air! he thought. His constant leering look apparently transmitted an invisible electric current that tickled her to look back and smile innocently, satisfactorily elating him. As if she had eyes behind. He smiled in response. The invisible Cupid’s arrow was doing its job. Even the angels of love moved leisurely between these two young boy and angelic girl. Obviously she had never experienced such a sensation, never before, compelling her to look back again.

Her calm was indubitably ruffled and she now and then cast a bashful glance as if to ascertain herself that what was happening was real. Robin, in his early twenty, was a handsome young guy with regular features. He was strongly built. His biceps were well-developed, easily visible at the end of his close-fitting t-shirt’s sleeves. His slightly aquiline nose enhanced his alert look. He was close shaven. He kept his hair short and brushed to the back with a slight divide at the middle. His high forehead was covered partially with a small lock of hair deliberately turned down for enhancing his smartness.

A romantic situation had intuitively cropped up between them. Both young fellows longed to exchange some words, get acquainted to each other and express their internal feelings. Only a few demure smiles were exchanged in compensation. As time passed Robin had a weird feeling that he wouldn’t succeed in opening up his heart’s cravings to that angelic-faced girl. Moreover, his timidity, he thought, was an obstacle that would definitely prevent him from making the first move and engage her in a romantic conversation. Hence he remained glued to his seat, allowing only his hungry eyes to appreciate the rare beauty. He drank to his fill from the fountain of the tantalising and flawless beauty.

His indulgence in this activity erased his homesickness. His longing for his parents and intimate friends was simply forgotten and magically replaced by his yearning for an admirable glance. His sighs increased as she moved farther away serving drinks to other passengers. In love it is generally believed that certain things happen that have no proper explanation. That’s what was happening to him; no explanation was possible.

It seemed that his constant yearnings, his sympathetic sighs and his piercing look suddenly got invisible wings and travelled the short distance separating them and poked her. Instinctively she sensed that penetrating look. It disturbed her and she turned her head slightly. From his endearing eyes she got the message written with an invisible ink, perceptible only to her for whom it was meant. Subsequently she produced once again but unintentionally another priceless soothing smile that pacified the temporarily deranged youth. The invisible hand of love was slowly performing its work, unifying two hearts that were not long before poles apart and foreign to each other.

Being thus cajoled, he patiently waited for her return. As the delay extended his infatuation also increased. Evidently nothing else was of any significance because his mind was concentrating solely on one item. Even his eyes were focused in the same direction of that item. Time wasn’t moving at all. He cast worried glances at his watch, a minute was unbelievably too long. His impatience tortured him immensely. He was getting rather exasperated, she was delaying too much.

Oh! What a relief! At long last he perceived that she had changed her original position, signalling an end to her task. But why was she delaying, he couldn’t understand. When she smiled and talked to other passengers her glowing features enhanced her attractiveness. The exalting beauty doubly multiplied his admiration. It seemed she was taking an eternity to cover the few metres distance between them. He couldn’t digest that she moved at such a snail pace. Finally when she was close by, all his plans how to start a conversation were muddled and he forgot what to say. He smiled in all innocence like an imbecile. He mumbled something incomprehensible as no words came out clearly, only his lips moved.

She guessed he wanted to say something, so she enquired, You want anything, Sir?

He thought he was saved. Anyhow he just faltered, Can I have some more juice, please?

Certainly, Sir! Which juice you want, Sir? was the over polite reply.

Oh! Give me whatever you have, please!

Some mango juice will do, like before? she still remembered what he had taken previously.

Yeah……….please, you’re so nice! he tentatively tried a compliment, fearing that she might be vexed.

Thanks!

As she poured the juice, he looked fixedly at her face, at the same time gradually regaining his self-control. He now observed that her skin was unbelievably rosy, spotlessly velvety, not the ginger-tinge that required a regular suntan. Hers was a natural tan, smooth like a rose petal.

Anything wrong, Sir? Handing over the juice and teasing him for his insolence.

Nooooo! Why?

She passed her right hand over her blouse as if trying to re-arrange it correctly. His eyes mischievously followed the movement of her hand. He looked appreciatively at her mustard coloured hand and those graceful fingers with red nail polish moving temptingly over her silky uniform. He peered at her tennis-size breast in wonderment. His eyes enlarged as if trying to see inside the tight-fitting blouse. She smiled at his gutsy behaviour. As he was the last passenger in her round of duty she spared some moments. She lingered momentarily for indulging in an insignificant trifling conversation.

Her inoffensive smile heightened her attractiveness and encouraged him into proceeding with the conversation.

Excuse me! Can I tell you something, if you don’t mind? He had already thought about how to start a conversation and as his agitation had disappeared he reasoned more wisely.

No problem, Sir! Please, feel free! was the instant response. She knew what was coming - the usual compliments about her devastating beauty.

Hmmmm! What a beauty you got! It’s a killing beauty! You mind if I tell you I can’t prevent myself from admiring you? He spoke tentatively, his gallantry overcoming his initial timidity.

Thank you, sir! But I can’t help it! was the shy reply. She had been trained to answer politely.

Oh! How I would love to chat with you! he added hastily, at the same time producing a mini-wink. She was flustered. He had been warned that the Indian girls were very reserved and he had to be careful not to offend them. He expected some unpleasant rebuff in return for his boldness but, on the contrary, she smiled demurely, despite that.

Now I’m damn busy. Probably before the end of the flight I’ll have some free time. We can chitchat for a few minutes though.

So saying she pushed her trolley and concentrated in her task.

After her departure he mused joyfully at his apparent success in at least having a short, even though meaningless conversation. He felt rather flattered she had promised a chat during her free time, before the end of the flight that was due shortly. Ecstatically he reviewed the dialogue he just had with her in his mind. He was elated thinking about those smiles. He closed his eyes and visualized her smiling facial features that he had been privileged of appreciating from so close. He couldn’t forget those dimples that suddenly appeared with her smiles, enhancing still further her adorable flawless beauty. Those bright eyes, so attractive, so meaningful; those shapely moist lips very slightly pouting, the accompanying freshness exuding from her mouth, not forgetting her regular white teeth, all these he could single them out one by one. He hadn’t perceived the slightest defect.

Again he thought of her smiles that brightened her face immeasurably, beyond his imagination. These wonderful thoughts erased from his memory all other worldly cares and worries. He allowed himself to be transported in an imaginary world of blissful love. Such an incomparably ravishing beauty he had never before laid his eyes upon. He once more closed his eyes enjoying every moment of his reverie. He was glad fancifully thinking himself victorious; that he had her, hooked her without much difficulty. He marvelled at his stupendous success.

An announcement made by the captain unfortunately put an abrupt end to his rapturous fancies. He awfully regretted it. He badly desired another glance of his hostess. So he pretended to look for a magazine. He languidly stood up, moved towards the newspaper rack and picked the morning paper. His gallantry had compelled him into maintaining a dignified attitude but didn’t fail to sneak a look. The hostess from her cabin peeped at him even though she was still busy with her duty. He was a handsome fellow, dressed in a pair of Levi’s jeans and t-shirt. He was tall and muscular. She was inevitably impressed and didn’t hesitate to enchant him further with one of her killer smiles. That’s what he sought for and he was damn satisfied. Back to his seat, he mechanically turned the pages of the newspaper. He was unable to concentrate in anything else, only exulting at the thought of her ingratiating smiles.

The intensity of his amorous expectation kept on increasing and he gradually became despondent. He was thinking that perhaps she had suggested talking to him later solely for liberating herself. He felt ill at ease thinking about such a possibility. In desperation he continually turned his head, looking at the back for catching another glance. His impatience became almost unbearably oppressive. It was aggravated by the impossibility of his catching sight of her as she had drawn a curtain while disposing the contents of the trolley or something of the sort, he assumed.

His discomfort persisted for some long minutes until finally the curtain was pushed aside. What a relief his