Left Right…Romance Chowk
Ouch! A thunder like sensation hit the hairy chest. He almost yelped in pain. Sejal stroke her lip with the tongue like a maniac and untied the lace on her Salwar Kameez while Mann pressed her curvy body with his hand, cupping his lip on her neck, to reach the naked back.
The sensation drizzled down his spine as he pressed and caressed the Salwar Kameez that she was wearing and ran his finger on her breast covered by the garment. Sejal pressed his belly with her hand that ran like a hot iron up and down, towards the chest and navel.
The sun shone glittered on their faces and the heat flew past the window to surround them on all corners. Sejal and Mann were unfazed and stuck to each other like glue, laughing unabashedly. Making out inside an empty train gave them a thrill and Sejal face was cupped to her lover who was playing with her tresses. Suddenly, the local at Bandra chugged slowly and they were caught up intensely with each other as their bodies pulled together and slipped like soap that pushed them violently inside the Indian toilet that made the door flung open to hit bang close right in front of them.
“Shit! The train is moving fast. Pull the chain,” She ordered. Mann pulled the toilet flush instead and the water that roiled inside the vase splashed on their faces. He made an innocent face, “Obviously, it’s the toilet chain and it cannot stop the train. Damn it, it’s the Indian railway to Punjab or something.” Sejal was sweating, “We gotta jump somewhere and it doesn’t matter if we land up with bruises or hurt the ass.” The train stopped after a long forty minutes and they nearly choked inside the toilet. Suddenly, footsteps and loud voices scampered inside the compartment before the engine roared to life again.
She slowly opened the toilet door and saw the horrifying image of a jam-packed compartment, human mass swathing like eggs. “We are screwed, dude!” she hit a panic mode.
“Obviously, we cannot make up inside the open toilet like that under the dirty water and shit. Shitty potty and stupid love,” he let off.
She shrugged it off and laughed like a maniac. “There is little that we can do. You can squat if you wish and me shall watch your performance as your sole audience. Baby! It’s your moment of fame.”
“And it’s your moment of thrill. Where do you get such crazy ideas of sitting inside trains to do weird stuff? You get a sort of orgy like feeling and lust spurting inside your body,” he pulled a senseless joke.
The latch was stumbling up and down as if it’s going to break at any time soon. Someone knocked on the door that freaked them out and Sejal whispered in his ear, “Now! We have to play chor and police inside. Keep pulling the flush to distract attention and make those idiots think that someone is having terrible loose motion.” Mann kept pulling the flush as if it’s some gun trigger to ward off the grandkids of Osama Bin Laden hell-bent to seek revenge on the United States.
It seems that the person who wanted to relieve got the message with the toilet flush sending the signal, Do Not Disturb for serious work is in progress inside. They almost stumbled on each other and the balance in the toilet tilted as if it was under the spell of an earthquake and both pulled their legs together, carefully not to step on water flowing on the edge of the urine bowl.
He held her by the waist and she pulled his hand away. “Shut up and don’t do that, you idiot. We are not in a five-star hotel but a toilet. I am feeling suffocated now,” she felt like biting his ear.
“You asked for such fun na. Your idea of unearthing some secret and that too inside a moving train’s toilet,” Mann sarcastically hit at her. Sejal turned her face away from him and was biting her fingernail, wondering how to get out of the train.
“Listen, we need to get out of here and coaslesce with the crowd without arising suspicion,” he furtively looked at the roof. She was restless. “But how? As it is, I am dying inside this train’s toilet. Think dude, think.”
She yanked the door open and pushed her body out of the toilet, closing it with a loud thud. Mann was almost thrust to the wall with force while she wriggled her way past the crowd, relieved that she could walk away from the odor inside. She moved with great difficulty between the crowd and finally found a place to stand awkwardly near the door to breathe free.
She stood to admire the rural life and forgetting for once that they have left Mumbai behind, as the wind blew on her face.
The sight of kids playing in a pool of mud, a villager walking with a pot of water in his hand adjusting his lungi and village women trotted with water buckets on their head as the train moved with hurtling speed. It abruptly stopped at the next station that was filled with people scampering their way inside like chickens sprouting in a farm. Mann pushed the door wide open and someone who was standing with his back firmly stuck on it, almost slipped. He looked at Mann menacingly who sneaked out by muttering a quick apology to avoid being beaten black and blue.
Mann was hanging at the train’s edge doing a Shah Rukh Khan with his hands wide open admiring the paddy field when someone pushed him and his body flung in the air to fall in a huge pool of muddy water. Sejal fell on him and the force with which she threw herself hit him like a tornado on the back.
“Now, stop looking at me like that. I pushed you off the train and thank me for that.” He was at a loss of words, not knowing how to react.” Mann’s body was spinning and hurting as if he has been whipped by a belt.