December. Raj was on a hopping flight from Dehradun to Bengaluru. Tired, he dozed off in his window seat while the passengers boarded at the Indira Gandhi International terminal, New Delhi. He never realised when the plane took off. When he woke up as the air hostess asked for his boarding card, he discovered a lady sitting in the seat next to him. Her eyes closed in deep thought, listening to whatever was playing on her iPhone. And as Raj picked his Paperboat Aam Ras, he realised who she was. His heart missed a beat. Trotti- his lamb, as he would have called her, was sitting next to him; he was seeing her after 20 years.
Pic- pexels-kat-smith-568020
Her hair was a bit greyed, but the grace and the innocent, smiling, bubbly face remained the same. Looking at her, he was transported to another December many decades back in a hill station in the northern state. What happened that evening was definitely between the two consenting adults, and he knew it as he was one of them and another was Trotti. It was one of those random assignments. Though Raj and Trotti were a Senior – Junior team, the age difference was not much.
They were there in the hills staying in a 5-star property. There was not much to do for the client servicing team, and the creative team was busy doing the recce. Their role was to answer the creative repeated question, will the client object, or can we do this? Would come in. And Raj was more than willing to take creative liberties with the client he knew well enough. It was, anyway, not a significant assignment.
It was cold, and the mist rose from the valley and slowly invaded the hotel space. There was romance written all over it. Trotti was new to the agency and unmarried. More importantly, she was much in awe of her happily married senior Raj. Trotti adored him and was always looking up to him. She was still that bubbly innocent girl with a wild side to her personality. The evening came sooner than expected. Despite the team, a feeling of loneliness overpowered.
Raj was a bit adventurous; she was just a lamb following him. He followed the road, curling like a snake around the hill. The walk was on, and the Lamb followed. He knew of the viewpoint that gave the best view of the valley below. She knew it was a stupid idea, and there was no view possible in the dense fog. Yet, something pulled her, and she followed uninvited unhesitatingly. Initially, they were two people walking by themselves. He realised she was following and waited for her to join. They now walked together. Monologues and dialogues filled the void to keep them connected. Words faithfully do their duty to bridge the unknown distance. Despite the fog, the view did not disappoint them. They knew it would have been better any other day.
Raj sat on the culvert with his back to the valley, and she stood in front, facing him and the valley. He could smell her, and he could have felt her if she was to take a step forward. Suddenly, she stopped looking at the valley and looked at him. He looked up at her innocent face. Something happened at that moment, and he felt her wet lip, and it seemed somewhere he too wanted it and was in a way waiting for the moment. Everything else seemed like a façade.
Time stood still, and the kiss was long enough for his hands to travel up her top and feel her. She cooperated and shifted a bit for him to get more of her. Tightening the hug, her lips moved expertly to arouse him. She could feel his manhood. For a moment, both were living the moment. He pulled the skirt up and touched her thighs, and she obliged. He pushed her to the hillside of the road away from the culvert.
Both saw a light bean piercing the dense fog at that very moment. A car was coming up and soon would be on them. It broke the trance; the moment lost forever. Raj realised what he was doing was forbidden, and at the same time, Trotti knew it was unacceptable. She fumbled to close her buttons and turned away from him. As they had moved to the hillside, the car soon passed them without the beam ever lighting their presence. The two of them walked back to the hotel fighting their inner voices.
The moment of pleasure and if you insist sin had passed. Neither was feeling guilty, nor did they want to talk about it. There was complete silence. They never spoke of the moment nor allowed the situation to arise again. But, somewhere, Raj and Trotti felt unsatiated and missing the passion.
During the flight, Trooti opened her eyes a bit and looked at him, and Raj realised she was all the time watching him. Hi, he said and got an equally tingling hi from her.
So long, where are you, what brings you to Bengaluru, and the uncomfortable conversation between them? At the Kempagowda Airport, she still followed her as both picked up their bag and waited for their office cars to pick them up. She stood close to him, and then her hands moved to clasp his hands. He was prepared for it this time, half expecting it. Would you want to complete the story at Windsor- Trooty asked?
He was her adventurous Raj and was not going to leave the opportunity to find the answer to her question. I am at the Windsor too – he smiled, telling her. He was wiser with age and time. And he was no coward like Sanz.
The only way for him to do it right this time was for Trotti t take his car to the hotel and finish the story in his room. He smiled; that would be easier than anything else. The Lamb was still the Lamb, and he the master. She smiled; finally, she found her Lamb.
At the hotel, they were on the same floor. His room was first. She left him to change and went to her room. She never married, and he was a divorcee; there was no problem. She leisurely took a bath, delaying the inevitable. With filled glasses, she knocked at his door.
There comes my Lamb- thought Raj and Trotti said- here I take the Lamb to the slaughter. He won’t ever know what hit him, and I waited all this time. And she hummed softly – Trotti Has a little lamb… little Lamb… little Lamb.
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