The Tinseltown

By NiyaanUttam
Edited by Er. Ruchit

Tickets are Expensive

The glitter of Mumbai is enough to confuse any sane teenager from smaller towns. My first visit to Mumbai was the wedding of my cousin. I was 14 and for the next four years my only fetish was to be in The tinseltown. I would bootlick any person who would give me a hope to be a model in Mumbai.
'pata hai wahan pe bahut kuch karna padta hai....' an uncle of mine from Pune convinced me to do everything. (you need to do a lot of things there .....)
'uncle main sab kuch karne ko taiyaar hoon, bus ek baar mujhe model ban na hai...'( Uncle I'll do everything, Just make me model)
'tu agli chuttiyon main pune aa jaana, main tujhe contacts dilwa doonga'
(come to Pune in next holidays, I'll see if I can do something )
I was 17 when after my eleventh i forced my parents to let me holiday in pune. Reached Pune with full preparation to be a model. I was dreaming of walking on the ramp .... Lights, camera, action.....my face on billboards, banners, magazines..... I was living for the dream.
Uncle lived with his wife, two sons and an ailing mother. They all gave me dirtiest looks on seeing my two large bags.
'papa yeh kahan rahega...'(dad where will he stay ?)
'aapke room main.....beta niyaan aapka bada bhai hai.....one month ke liye apke saath hi rahega' (In your room, he's your brother, will be with us for a month)
Reluctantly they shifted me in their room. Aunty and kids were to leave to their maternal uncles home in a day or two, so i didnt worry much sleeping on th floor. Ramp ke liye kuch bhi karega.(Will do anything for ramp)
'aaj raat main tujhe pune ghumane le jaunga....sab ko jaane do'(Will show you pune , just let everyone go)
Uncle was a distant relative of my dad and we hardly had any interaction with the family. Due to my persistent arguements i was allowed to go and meet them for a month.
My parents, as our, are pretty conservative. Modelling is a taboo word. You can well imagine my plight on disclosing my dream. Mom gave in and convinced dad... Rest is history.
After all left the ailing mother, uncle and me were left all alone. Ailing mother was actually dumped in her room and uncle suddenly transformed into a drunkle. 6 pm the family left and by 8 he was dead drunk.
'chal mujhe koi modelling kar ke dikha'
(Show a few of ur modeling steps)

Naive, as i could be, i put on the music 'fashion' and started walking in the room.
'shirt utaar ke koi sexy pose bana beta....aisa nahin chalega'
(take your shirt off ang give a sexy pose)
Reluctantly i removed my shirt and in my vest and trousers, i walked the room. He was sipping his peg with flaming eyes. Unsure about my next step, i would look at him and after his libidinous affirmation, start walking again.
'niyaa (nick named) aisa thodi hota hai....ek kaam kar. Hum change karte hain. Tu peg pee, main chal ke dikhata hun.'
(Its not done dude, lets swap places. I'll Walk, you drink)
I nodded and sat in the corner as a scared goat. I could never imagine what his plan was. Naive, as ever, i held the peg and watched him strip to his vest and underwear.
His over-extended paunch with hairy chest and shoulders tore the vest through its seams. His jet-black dyed hair and paan stained teeth bore him a look of a monster.
He started walking from the door towards me. I could see the dangling penis pouch in his undies. The loosely held VIP brown color undies were not enough to cover his bear-like ass.
While walking, he would pout his lips and give me a flying kiss. The whole scene was atrocious and he wanted me to repeat it. Unable to plan, my numb mind gobbled the peg. In the back of my mind i was planning to puke and spoil the night.

The music in the room, whisky, chicken pakoras, papad and smoke were too much for a vegetarian like me to handle
'Mera bacha....ek aur laga, aur himmat ayegi....phir dikha mujhe....apna jalwa'
(Kid take another sip, you will be more confident... you will be able to show your body)
He took back his glass, poured me a Patiala and forced it down my mouth.
'uncle....mujhe yeh achi nahi lagi....bahut kadvi hai'
(uncle I dont like it)
'model ban na hai na....bus phir seekh le....'
(You want to become a model na, then you have to learn)
My head was dizzy and he was hard. He was smoking on my face. Couldnt take the stench any longer, i put a finger in my mouth and vomitted. He was sitting next to me and my puke drenched his vest.
'bhenchod.....'
(MotherFucker)
'uncle im very sorry.....kabhi nhi pee pehle'
('m sorry never touched alcohol before)
'saala gaandu ... Agar peeni nhi aati to kyun modelling karne aatey ho.....madarchod ....'
(why do you come to do modeling if you cant digest a bloody drink)
his expletives knew no limitations.
I puked again, soiling the entire mood. He got up and left the room. That was the last time i saw him that night.
I slept in that condition, dreaming of a monster cutting me into pieces. Whole night passed in convulsions.
In the morning, he called me 'niyaan.....tujhe main station chod raha hoon....apne gaon jaao.....tumhare liye yehi theek rahega.'
(m taking you to station, will buy u a ticket back to your home)

The train was at 6 pm and i had to be at the station by 530. He came back at 4pm and put my two heavy unpacked bags in his car.
'uncle please mujhe ek mauka do.....main wohi karunga jo aap bologay....please' the idiot in me begged the rascal.
(just give me another chance, will do what you say)
I was crying till the station. One turn before he opened his stinky mouth....'jo kahunga karega, yaa tujhe wapis bhej doon...'(you will have to obey my command)
I killed my reality to follow the dream.....
We went home. Ailing mother was sitting in the verandah. 'kahan gaye they tum log....'
(where were you?)
'bus maa, yeh bhatk gya tha, waapis laaney gya tha isko....'
(he was lost)

The beast turned to me 'aaj raat mera dost aaney wala hai.....naatak mat karna....uske mumbai main links hain....agar tu ussey pasand aaya to woh tujhe mumbai le jayega.....bus ussey khush kar dena'
(tonight my friend is coming....he is from mumbai...just make him happy ....he has lots of contact... are you understanding ? )

Ailing mother was put on sedatives and locked in her room. I was made to wear low jeans, stylish undies and a sleeveless vest. Before the drunken party, i had cleaned the house of last nights mess, sourced food from a nearby dhaba, frozen water for ice, set music and dimmed the lights.
'niyaa....mera raj kumar.....yeh apni aunty ka laal scarf galley pehan le....this is very lucky....' forcibly i wore the red scarf.
(wear this red scarf of you aunt)

'ab lagta hai john abraham' uncle patted my butt.(you are looking great)

The friend was late by an hour and i was in the kitchen when he arrived in his Honda City. Dressed in white pants, dark checked maroon shirt and silver hair. His accessories could put Bappi Lahiri to shame. Friend was fair, heavy, bald and stained teeth too.
'abbey o laundey....sahab ghar pe hain....' he shouted from the kitchen window.
(Lad is, your master home ?)
'ji uncle ghar pe hi hain....aapka intezaar kar rhe hain...' i was extra sweet.
(yes sir , he is home )
Drinks and snacks.....pervert jokes and non stop winking at each other was making me sick in guts again.
I was half a peg down and already tipsy. Uncle and his friend danced on every tune. First while sitting and after 3 pegs they were dirty dancing. Uncle had removed his clothes as usual and friend was in white trousers and vest.
'beta uncle ki pant khol do, unko problem ho rahi hai...'(son take uncles pant off, he is feeling unconfortable)

Chikni chameli started booming in the room and uncle transformed into a whore. He was shakira -2. Friend was also dancing, but due to his heavy weight he wasnt too mobile.
'niyaa tu bhi aa...bada maza aa rha hai....' came a command.
(Lad join us)

'apne scarf se isko pata le...teri life bana dega yeh banda' whispered uncle.(just make him happy, he can make you life prosperous)
I started gyrating my hips... Friend leaped at me and held me by my love handles. He started gyrating too.
Uncle was making me behave like a slut. He himself was the sluttiest man on the planet. Friend opened his clothes and i helped him out of his pants. Within a couple of mins, all of us were in our undies. Friend was so fat that he might have never seen his penis all life.
By 12 we were all dead drunk.
'yahin soj aaj...' uncle offered friend.
(sleep here tonight)

He agreed and i laid the bedding on the floor. Two matresses and three pillows and a big family sized blanket. In the night Pune was quite cool.

At about three, we snuggled into the bed and i pretended to sleep. All in undies, i felt weird and amusing at the same time.
I felt friend massaging my back before the sunrise. Got up with a shriek.
Friend signalled me to be silent. Once everything was settled, he resumed.
Continued...On one side was my uncle while on the other was his friend. Uncle was snoring in his loudest ever voice, while friend was busy trying to erect his member by rubbing his body on mine. I could hear the chirping of the birds and the early morning sun in the suburubs of Pune.
With my splitting headache, i was praying to god. 'bhagwan please....'
(God please)
Kya maangta....mujhe jaaney do, ya mujhe le chalo....heart wanted to run, mind looked at the long term goal.

Friend forced my face towards his stinking mouth. Kissed me lightly and suddenly turned into a beast. He started sucking my lips to the extent of paining them. Didnt even give me the chance to express my pain. He started biting my lips. I was sick to the core. With one hand he engulfed my penis and with the other started mauling my nipples.



All scenes of my catholic school and conservative home were swirling before my eyes. 'never speak lies....always be honest....be good....do good....' i was getting deaf on hearing the echoes of my teachers and parents....'jaldi ghar aana.....der na karna....'
(come home early... dont stay out late)

Eyes full of tears and mouth full of moans......suddenly the pain stopped. Silence. Pin drop silence. I regained my senses to find blood seeping out of my painful guts. Uncle and his friend were looking confused....they were shouting my name and pouring water on me.
Agony was the ticket to the Tinseltown.

The Runway

I survived sodomy. Uncle's friend sodomized me in Pune but that was a deterrent of my dream to become a model only for a few days till i recovered the pain. In the process i gained a weapon. Tears.

They work wonders when work is be gotten done. I was bleeding on the floor after losing my virginity and cringing in pain. Friend and uncle were immediately paranoid. People would ask the reason, which they had none to tell.

Somehow i was taken to a confidential doctor. Was medicated and treated like a king for the next 48 hours. All i needed was tears and work would be done.



'ab main kya karunga...'(What will I do now?) I asked uncle one day when his family came back.

'dont worry, im finding a contact in mumbai through my friend'

I started crying. The next thing i knew was that i was hurried to a photo guy to get my portfolio done. Within 3-4 days things started moving. Uncle and his friend drove me all the way to Mumbai and handed me over to a third grade modeling agency in western suburbs.

I was found a PG and they actually dumped me there with a months money to survive. Nishant, my roommate, was a struggling model too. He had joined grooming classes and a gym and for the last year he would smoke and then complain about the cough and bad people.


Nishant was a despicable creature initially, but the more i came closer to him, the more i started liking him. He was more than 6, lean, great body frame and innocent baby face. He hailed from

Haryana and was a very helpful and an honest guy. A perfect lover.

I had no idea about Mumbai... And nishant was my only hope. He took me to places which i had just heard of in magazines. I joined gym with him. He had a terrible habit of sleeping in undies. Being from UP's conservative family, I loathed this idea.

'aap aise kyun sotey ho?' (why do you sleep naked?)

'kaun saaf karega mera night suit...?'(who'll wash my clothes?)

'agar aap promise karogay ki aap roz pehnogay....ill wash it for you' (if you promise...)

These words were more than enough to melt that Haryanvi. He started wearing track lower and i used to hand wash it every three days. I would clean his room, set his clothes, take care of him and actually behave like his wife (except bedding him)

Days passed and he recommended my name everywhere. My first ramp walk was for a very unknown designer. I was given 5200 after commissions. Apart from that i was given an invitation to join a post-fashion-show party.

My first party ever. I was supposed to hold a glass of wine and behave drunk. The party was amazingly boring and Nishant and i were sitting like dead ducks on the side. We left the party in between and walked to our apartment. On the way we both held hands and talked about our families and career.

'mere ko kuch nhi pata is line ka' i said (i'm new to this)



'compromises hain, jo main nahin kar sakta....is liye main ek unsuccessful model hoon. Aisi zindagi ka kya fayda jo compromise kar ke jee jaye' he said. (Its just a compromise. Whats the use of such a life ?)



We stopped. I looked into his eyes. He was crying. I wiped his tears.



'tu kabhi mujhe dhokha to nahin dega ...' (promise you wont betray me)



'nahin' i replied. (I promise)



I felt as if he was going to kiss me....



'main saturday ko haryana wapis jaa rha hoon....tu bhi mere saath chal....tu lucknow chala jaana....hum izzat ki zindagi jiyengay'
(I'm leaving for home this saturday, come with me .... away from this dishonest hell)


'nishant....' i cou'lnt speak anything.

He kept his finger on my lips....'i know tu bhi yehi chahta hai'
(I know you would agree)

We walked home .... He happy, me sad.

I got my ass screwed not to go home. Niyaan had come to Mumbai to rule the 'runway' not to 'run away'.

He packed his stuff and so did i. Next morning we had to board the train to delhi. There was no other option but to leave a letter by his bedside. 'i cannot go with you....mera raasta sirf ek tarafa hai, yeh waapis nhi jaata'
(I have brought a won way ticket ...!)

I shifted with Sajid, a guy in the same modelling agency but very popular and focussed..... I had caught him eyeing me many a times.


I used my weapon (tears) to stay in his apartment. He was staying with his boyfriend. I used every trick to manipulate the situation and finally succeeded in replacing the guy within 7 days of shifting with him. Tears worked wonders this time too.

Now i was Sajid's official bitch. And bitches get maximum work on the runway.

The dance

Sajid turned out to be a great guy. He had contacts which i could never dream of making. I was thanking my stars all the time. In the first week of our relation, he gifted me with a branded clothes hamper and two assignments with decent payments.



He is about 6.1, stunning cheek bones and broad jawline. Loves to mess his hair....and mine too. Deep set hazel eyes and dimples to die for. Dont keep guessing, he moved to Paris already. His chiseled body and athletic lean look would give a run for money to most of his peers.



I was always wondering about his contacts and mesmerised by the names he spoke which i just read on page 3. Being as slavish as i could be, i never poked my nose in his affairs. As long he let me stay and get me work. Sleeping with him initially was a hassle, but i overcame that as all he was interested in was body play.


I even caught him red-handed with a much better guy than me....but did not utter a word. 'he may sleep around with anyone, but will come back to me in the night' was my belief. And trust me guys, he never spent a whole night out.

'would you like to come to a party tonight....***** is hosting it. Selected guest lists, just corporate honchos and la-creme-de-la-creme of Mumbai....its a bachelor party'


'am i invited?'

'no, but they wanted four models, im getting short of one.'

It was a golden opportunity to meet the best. Sajid's and my height and built is almost the same, so i slid into his clothes....shoes too.


On the way, we collected two guys....they sat in the back and all the time kept smooching. Even Sajid was dismayed.

'Nikhil....we would be late.....is it ok with you?'

'Niyaan.....' I corrected Sajid..

'Nikhil for tonight...and I'm Terence for tonight'

'I don't understand'

'shut up and just do what I say....'

I shut up for rest of the way listening to slurrrrrping sounds of those two sex-starved maniacs.

The party was on Napeansea Road....apartment was about 4000 sq feet, facing the sea. We parked our Honda and took elevator to the 17th floor. Silver plated antique door, heavier than a ship. We identified ourselves on the camera and the motorised door opened automatically.

A palatial apartment, statues dispersed in the dimly lit hallway, MF Hussain dotted the spot-lit walls and classical music played in the background while we were escorted by a butler to the party hall on the 18 floor. We climbed the pristine white circular staircase entering the terrace. A pool and a garden, overlooking the Arabian sea. The warm, balmy wind was enough to arouse us.


Far end of the terrace was Mr. *****. he looked better in real life than his interviews on TV. The guy had a charm and walk of a tiger. I could smell his pheromones a kilometer away.

'heyy Terence....'

'hi *****. meet my friends Nikhil, chiraag and mohin.'


'aww so nice of you' he whispered something in the ear of the butler who whisked us to the powder room. We got fresh and entered the party again.

All we had to do was socialise and laugh and be merry. Sajid urf (Aka) Terence wanted us all to dance when the floor was lit. We had to be the catalysts of the party.

The music boomed on the speakers after an hour and by that time all the guests were slightly tipsy. Terence took to the floor. We three just watched as he gyrated alone. Within minutes a pole appeared on the floor. I couldnt believe my eyes on seeing my Sajid dance so damn well.


People gathered around him and started clapping. Terence started to strip. I was blushing and feeling terrific too. The whole Mumbai is crazy for my Sajid. And he is only mine.


Fifteen minutes and he was in his thongs. Little did i know, he wore thongs underneath. Boots and thongs on the backdrop of lashing waves and moonlit night, Terence shone like a marble statue. By this time people were going bonkers and gyrating with Terence. Everyone wanted to touch him and possess him. So was I.

We were dancing and drinking too. Crazy as ever. I was desperately trying to find my Terence in the 100 odd people. He seemed to have vanished in thin air. Was that a trick too? Anyway i kept dancing...but not for long. Curiosity kills the cat.

I went to powder room and just to check the apartment i wandered in the penthouse. Saw the door slightly ajar of the master bedroom. Terence was blindfolded and tied to the bed posts. Mr. **** and his 3 minions were naked and taking turns on making love to my Sajid.

I ran all night....far from the madding crowd.

Painted faces

Seeing my boyfriend with other men set me thinking of integrity of our relation. Why was he doing it? Confused as ever in a fit of rage i started walking mile after mile. The sodium lit Mumbai streets dotted with sex workers and shady pimps were of no concern to me.

Every time I would cross a bus stand I could see painted faces begging me to take them before the night ended. At 3 am the night still had 3 hours. I reached Girgaum chaupati, not so close to napeansea road (the place I saw my Sajid)



While sitting on the filthy beach, I felt filthier inside. A painted face came to me, 'maangta kya?' (want one ?)

'kitney?' (for how much)

'100 ka ek shot' (hundred bucks apiece) 


'nah' 


'chal tu acha dikhta, 70 de de' (you look cute, I'll agree for 70)

'nahin bola na....' (cant you understand ? I said No)

'50 last.....dekh thoda time bachela...chal na' (how about a 50 ? I dont have much time left)


I couldnt control my anger and started shouting at her. She went away cursing me, 'saale....kuch na bachey tera....teri biwi kissi aur ki ho jaye.....' (you will rot in hell... your wife will cheat on you.. motherfucking asshole)

When a person looses control, all he collects is abuses. I collected ample that night. Snapped at guys and girls.

'maalish?' another young guy 14-15 years old. (massage?)

I started crying. He sat near me, started pressing my head. I put my head on his shoulder and cried my heart out. Like my mother, he kept swirling my hair and patting my shoulder.

I took off my tie and gave it to him.

'nahin ... Kya karunga iska...' (what will I do with it ? )

'designer tie hai.....bahut menhgi hai rakh le....'
(its a designer tie, costly one)


'khana khila de' he said. His name was Mohan as he told me later.
(get me food)


I just looked at him and saw his innocent face and starved eyes. When hunger attacks, morality gets killed.


I held his arm and we walked till Churchgate station. I had 50 bucks....I bought him a vada pav and boarded the first train back home.


Sajid had not come home till then. I took a bath, freshened up and lied on our bed, staring at the fan.


Got up after hearing the bed creak.

'Sajid?'

'Niyaa.....who dropped you? I was searching crazily for you....'



'Me too....' and i started crying.

Sajid hugged me, sensing i had seen him with other guys.

'Yes you guessed it right....i am a call boy'

'Why did you play with my feelings Sajid? Why?' I was howling by now.

He just sat there looking at me shouting and hurling abuses at him.

'kya karta....koi option bhi to nahi thi....' (what could I do ? ... I had limited options)

'why didnt you tell me....?....i trusted you....you broke my trust.......you broke it....' i was sobbing by now.

'I'm leaving for Paris day after, a shoot.....I've given your name to all my agencies.....they may call you for my replacement....not coming back'


'I'm not doing it.... I'm going back home..... I'm sick....'

'as you wish.....Niyaa.....I never used you for sex.....ever....I just love you'

He left.....leaving behind huge contacts and a portfolio to me....

I understood Sajid, Mohan and all the painted faces now..... I salute them now.

Silence of the lights

My first love 'Sajid' left me for Paris. In the heart of hearts i still had the thorn of betrayal. I was grateful to him for reaching me my goal .... But he left me alone on the runway. Lights Cameras and Niyaan - alone.
Did i actually ask for it?
Did i want glory or did i want Sajid?
Get up 6 am
Workout, body treatments till 9 am
Go for assignments till 9pm
Rampwalks till 1 am
Return home by 2am
Introspect till 4am
Nighmares till 6 am
I was living my dream....but was i living?
Seeing my work and body, i started getting offers from all the big business houses. Very soon my face started getting splashed across Mumbai and then in magazines. A renowned TV channel approached me for a serial.
My crew pushed me for audition. Every part of my body yearned for a 'hello'. I would look at my cell 1000 times a day. Sajid might call. Sajid ... Sajid .... Sajid
The 'Thump' of my heart was replaced by the 'Sajid' of my heart. Every breath i took, every cell in my body knew only his name.
Came the D-day 'Auditions'. Was given a task to enact 'aapki gf aapko chod kar chali gayi hai....' they wanted to check my soul.
I was brain jammed. Stood like a stone on the stage. Didnt utter a word. There was silence ... the strong lights had silenced me.
'I cant' I left the audition and came out .... I had crushed my life with my own hands. As per auditors...'models cant act, they are brainless flesh'
Almost four months had passed, since the last good-bye. All I wanted was just a 'hello'....I would go back to Lucknow once I knew Sajid was fine. I would leave everything. minnatein maang maang har pal beet raha tha.
Every night I would nightmare of Sajid getting into trouble. He would call me for help....but i stood there with jammed feet and he would drown in the swamp.
Four months five days and three hours..... A missed call from +33
+33 again. 'hello...' crackled a voice.
'Sajid....'
'Niyaa'
'kaisa hai.....saale.....itne din .... baad phone kiya' my voice started to weaken. (hows you... after so long ...)My knees became water. My energy just drained out.
'tera photo magazine main dekha.....mera niyaa bada ho gya hai....' he was getting emotional too. (saw your pic in a magazine, my Niyaa has become famous now)
'tera niyaa waisa hi hai.....' my voice was choked now. (I'm same for you)
'acha sun.....paris aaja' (look, come to Paris)
All betrayal was washed in tears.

Paris - the City of Light

As my plane descended from the clouds, i could see the dotted houses and running green boulevards of France. Right in time my plane hovered on the air channel of Charles De Gaulle International Airport. The second busiest airport in Europe after Heathrow of London.
I was excited as a child to meet Sajid and that too in the most culturally developed city of the world. A historic city, Paris, is the fashion capital of the world. Every model has a dream to walk on the ramp in there. The feeling of plane hitting the ground was fantabulous. It was my first ever flight. Sajid had sent the required documentation for Schengen visa. He had also sent me an e-ticket.
Paris had been a dream ever since, but meeting Sajid in Paris was a fantasy in the dream. Oh my God!!! Could I have asked for more? To be with him for a day, I could wait centuries, but the trip from runway to exit was eons.

I saw him waving at me at the exit. The doors opened and i could smell the French air, considerably fresh as compared to Mumbai. He was wearing a red high neck sweater, white trousers and a camel leather jacket. Awesome was a lesser word. After staying in Paris for five months, his skin was crystal clear and hair impeccably shiny and clean. He had grown his hair to shoulder length and the breeze gave him a dreamy look.
'Niyaa'
'Sajid'
I put forward my hand, but he hugged and took my face in his hands and kept looking at me as if i was a baby. There were hordes of people moving everywhere.... In the midst of everyone he smooched me. Not a short peck but a proper deep throat smooch lasting for minutes.
I was on cloud nine. Every grudge, every betrayal, every ill feeling just vanished. All i knew was, that he was mine and i was his. We sat in the taxi and left for his apartment. All along the way, we just kept kissing and looking into each others eyes, oblivious of the world around us.
We ate something from the cafe below the apartment and went inside. For the next four hours, we were one. That was my first ever formal, proper love making session in life. Eiffel tower in the background, in the most romantic city, with the person i loved the most in the universe....
Next seven days were a dreamland. We had rented bikes and like small kids, we explored the city. Twice a day, we crossed Avenue des Champs-Élysées. We would sit in the bistros and enjoy life.
The city is so receptive to homosexual relationships that we did not feel awkward while expressing affection. I saw his ramp walks and his work. Amazing. A dream.
But my dream was about to be over. Next day was my flight back home. We cried, laughed and treasured the times we had together.

Acceptance

The assignment was over and Sajid came back. I was at the airport waiting for him, planned a thousand things to say. But to reciprocate I wanted to smooch him at the airport like he did in Paris.
My tiger strode out, his flowing mane and his chiseled jawline, making heads turn as his hair bounced giving him an air of a super being. He smiled his million dollar smile as our eyes met. My heart skipped a beat. GOD!!! I could sacrifice my life to see him smile.
I was waving frantically as he strolled his luggage towards me. People were actually staring at my childish behavior. Did I care??? huh. I actually did, thats why we didn't smooch. All my plans fell flat.
We taxied our way to the apartment and after settling his luggage, we smooched till eternity, i think. We were simply laughing and remembering Paris. He took off his clothes and ripped me too.
I was busy beating coffee and he was busy necking me. I was loving every moment of our priceless union. We licked the thick creamy mixture from my fingers. Then we licked our lips. Coffee never tasted so good.
or the next two days we were caged in the apartment feeling each other, doing every crazy stuff, pillow fighting, biting, kissing...... looking at each other, simply sitting and staring. Worth every second of wait.
Manic Monday morning I had assignments and he had to meet someone at the derby. I was slowly withdrawing from rampwalk and entering theatre, my passion. I had been tinkling with the idea of joining drama school and formally learn acting.
Ironically when body sells, brain rusts and no one pays for corroded stuff. Theatre was all brain. It had to take time.
I waited and waited and waited. It was past four in the morning when he landed with a 40+ man by his side. Sajid was in senses but the other guy was whacked out. I had seen that guy before but couldnt put it together as he was so disheveled that even he himself could not recognize him.
'Nikhil meet Mr. ****, CMD **** advertising' said Sajid.
Not again. The painted faces came dancing around me. I was so not interested in being 'Nikhil' again. On top of it, I was so non-passionate to see 'Terence'. Sajid saw me sulking and controlled the situation.
'Please get us some wine that I got from Paris' he commanded with a poker face.
By the time I got wine, Mr. **** was almost nude and Terence was playing with his body. CMD was lying on the floor literally begging Sajid to make love to him.
I put the wine on the table and went in the room. I could hear CMD moaning and screaming. The voices stopped. I went out and saw the room empty.
We met the next night at 10pm. I had been crying my eyes out. Almost everywhere, I was a disaster.
'Sajid......why?' I asked
'What Why....I bagged a contract with **** for two years' he smiled
'At this price? I will have to die everyday. Kill me once and for all' I howled.
'Niyaa...... this is an investment.....' he was cold as ever.
'We are together, we are one, we are earning, why sell ourselves to such people.....' I was sobbing.
'Niyaa be practical.....you own my soul, my body is my investment........'
For the next one hour I ranted and cried and howled, he simply listened and kept looking at the floor.
'Why did you leave your parents? Why did you dump Nishant? Why did you move with me?' he spoke only these three lines.
I was stunned.
'Do you still love me?' he asked like an innocent child.
'I do'



---THE END---