Short and Swift like a Animal

I was sitting in my office when my secretary came with a file and said, "Sir, all bids for office chairs have been listed out. Please go through and select the people you want to interview.

She put the file on my table and left. I opened the file and saw there were four bids for office chairs. I casually saw the attached data of all the persons who had applied. I immediately focused on a bid that had a photograph of a woman. I opened it and was pleasantly surprised that it was from a Navy officer's wife who was also doing interior decoration.

I did not proceed further but immediately called my secretary and told her that I had finalised the list in favour of this person ànd handed her the file with the lady. She nodded her head and said, "I will ring her and tell her to come and meet you so that we can go ahead."

This is the beginning of this short tale. I pick up the telephone and dial the number given in the data sheet. I wanted to talk to the lady directly and not rely on my secretary.

I rang up and told her that I was the vice president of the company and could she come and meet me as early as possible.

I examined her bio data before calling her and read that she was 30 years old. This had been the deciding factor in calling her. Another factor was that she was an officer's wife. I wanted to help her. Just for the record, I have spent over 2 decades in the air force and have now made a mark in civvy street.

I am fond of reading books, but one book has made a deep impression on me. It is D.H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover. The book had been banned and was only circulated privately.

I mention this book because parts of my life are akin to the game keeper who loved the mistress. Maybe it's a coincidence but that is part of the story.

The meeting went very well, and the contract was awarded to her. She was beautiful in a way with a dusky complexion that brought out her inherent sexuality. Slim, small-breasted with a lovely navel left uncovered by her sari, she was sexy. After tea and biscuits, she left with the contract duly signed.

I wanted to meet her again. I told her I wanted to discuss some finer points of the contract with her. This was a lot of bull, the main reason being that I wished to see her again. She came the next day in a skirt, and my word, for an Indian, she had very good legs. Her accent and complexion told me she was from Tamil Nadu, a Tamilian, and she confirmed it.
I am a Punjabi from the north, so I wonder where the meeting point is. After a desultory conversation, maybe she understands the reason she has been called. After tea and samosas, I suggested that I could drop her off at home, but she told me she had come in her car.
I did not meet her for the next week, but I made a point to talk to her on the telephone every day on my mobile on the plea that I was checking on the progress of the contract.
During conversations, I came to know her husband was posted on the aircraft carrier, which is now positioned in the Andaman Islands, and would be coming home after the next 3-4 months. I am a Sikh, and my conscience warned me, and I decided that I would not see her again, but then the tale of DH Lawrence has to go forward. Could it be the work of Lord Krishna, the God I believe in?
Another week passed, and I tried to get the girl out of my system. Maybe I succeeded, for I didn't call her. The next meeting is something bizarre. I came out of the ISKCON temple and sat in my BMW. I then saw a small Alto Suzuki come and park a little ahead of me. My heartbeat quickened as I saw it was the lady, the officer's wife.
She didn't see me and went inside the temple. I decided to make a quick getaway from there and pressed the ignition of my car, but I was in shock as there was no response; in other words, the car would not start. I was wondering about this because the car had just been serviced two weeks ago. I want to go away, but there's nothing I can do except keep sitting in the car. It now began to rain, and then I saw the girl come out of the temple. This time, she saw me sitting in the BMW and came to me and asked," Sir, are you waiting for somebody?"
"No," I reply," my car is not starting."
" It's OK," she says, "you can come in my car and I will take you home, and from there you can inform the mechanic to bring the car to my place."
I did not want to go, so I said, "Don't bother, I will ring my mechanic from here". She looked at me with a smile and said," Don't be silly, come with me."
I sat in her car, and with the rain falling, she drove slowly towards her house. It's a small house with a garden, and it faces the mountain. So it was almost like a secluded place.
The rain had picked up momentum and was lashing everything all around. The visibility was almost zero or maybe just about four to five meters. During the drive, I looked at the girl all the time and was again struck by her ethereal sexuality and beauty. Suddenly, with the rain falling, I remember the passage from DH Lawrence. I was a little bewildered and wondered what was going to happen. She smiled and said, "This is wonderful. The rain is getting stronger, so we have to dash to avoid getting wet."
She got out of the door and then rushed towards the door of the house. I was thinking of getting out of the car when I saw her fall on the lawn. She had slipped and fallen, and the rain was beating square on her. She pulled up her knees and tried to get up, but then I realized she had twisted her ankle. I quickly got out of the car and moved towards her. I went down to pick her up, and then the hailstorm began. The best I could do was to cover her as the ice pellets flayed my back. I liked her and realized she was warm and comforting, and then the passage of DH Lawrence came to me; the words reverberated, 'he took her like an animal, short and swift in the rain.'
Involuntarily, my lips found hers, and with the rain and thunder all around, I realized a terrible storm was brewing. This was what the Lord wanted.? Suffice to say, I was the predator, and she the prey. I cannot see. I close my eyes and visualise the scene with the gamekeeper making love to the mistress of the house, and he takes her like an animal in the rain.
The same thing happened, and it was a hideous yet superlative and thrilling experience. It ended like a lamp that can scald you. I am panting and then lift her and take her to the house. I entered with the girl, totally dishevelled, with only the petticoat now pulled up to the waist. I heard the horn of the car and recognized it was my BMW.
I opened the door and I saw my mechanic.
"Sir," he says," I have brought the car."
"Fine," I say, "Thanks."
He looked at me quizzically and said," I don't know what you're saying, Sir, but there was nothing wrong with the car; it started with one switch." He gave me the key and said he would walk down to the bus stop with his umbrella.
I wondered what had happened; my legs felt like jelly as I moved to the girl on the bed and buried my face in the altar of her beauty.

I left after the storm had abated. I was in a pensive mood, wondering what had happened. I had a sense of guilt, and after thinking for quite some time, I told my secretary the next day to ring up the lady and cancel the contract. There are untold mysteries that cannot be solved, and this is one of them. I have tried to add up the dots, but it doesn't lead anywhere. I wonder what the vision of the Lord was. Was I to be the vehicle for a greater cosmic dance? Readers can think. The ways of Lord Krishna are something special, did he not say, "not a leaf moves in this world without my will.'