THE TALE of the RIKSHAWALA

life has many turns and twists. Now I am reminded of an episode in my life which I can dare to write of only now after a lapse of a good many years; fifteen to be precise. All these years this story has remained etched in my memory. But now I thought of putting this story on paper. Somehow the thought of Bihari the rikshawala has a touch which for me is difficult to forget. His love life has a certain poignancy which brings out the fact that love and perhaps sex have no barriers.

I am a journalist and frequently travel to India and abroad. It all began in 1993. I had come to Calcutta to do a series of articles on life in the city. Being free in the evening my colleague Mala Bhattacharya suggested a night show at the Lighthouse. We emerged from the cinema hall located near the Esplanade after the show. I have forgotten the name of the movie, but I do recollect that it was a toching love story.

Out side the Lighthouse there was a nip in the air and a cool breeze wafted along. The sky was ever cast and a distant rumble could be heard. It was clear that it would soon rain. Mala shook my hand and left immediately. I was eager to get back to my hotel and hence decided to take a riksha. There were not many rikshas standing, as all were getting engaged. As the rumble increased I quickened my pace and approached a riksha. Somehow it was the rikshawala who caught my attention. He was dark, light and strong. I thought a stronger man would take me faster to my hotel. The man smiled at me

"Kither (Where to) memsahib?"

Droplets of rain began to fall. That quickened my resolve and I climbed into the riksha. As the man lifted up the riksha his biceps bulged and I could fathom the power in them. I wondered how it must feel to be taken in those arms and crushed. Lascivious thoughts, but sometimes they cannot be helped.

The man again smiled back at me and began to tug riksha forward. The rain seemed to quicken. Lightning flashed across the sky and soon the rain had turned into a downpour. Sitting in the riksha I could not escape the rain falling on my face and arms. The rikshawala was all wet, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Stop" I said "I am getting wet"

The rikshawala looked back and smiled again. His white teeth sparkled in the darkness. Hell! Why did this chap keep smiling? "Ok, memsahib". The riksha puller stopped and turned to the right. A few more steps and through the rain I could make out a dilapidated building. Sometimes I wonder how Calcutta abounds in such buildings. We drew into the foyer of the buildings. It appeared deserted. Outside the rain continued to lash all and sundry, but at least we had some protection. The rikshawala again smiled "Memsahib, the rain may not stop for sometimes"

"Don't worry" I replied "I will pay you extra."

"Arrey, nahi ( Oh no)" the man smiled again.

I felt a slight chill as the wind blew. So I took out a cigarette from my hand bag and tried to light it. The match box was wet and the flame didn't flicker. I threw the match box away.

Spontaneously the rikshawala pulled out a lighter and held it for me. The cigarette lighted and I inhaled deeply. There was a lightning flash and for the first time I saw his eyes. Did there lurk sadness behind them? Yet this man had always been smiling.

The man pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

"Did you like the film memsahib?"

"Yes" I replied, "it was a good pass time"

The rikshawala puffed at his cigarette and blew the smoke upwards.

"My name is Bihari" he volunteered. After a momentary pause he continued "Memsahib, it was a nice love story"

"yes" I replied, not knowing what to say.

"Yes" Bihari carried on "story that brings out the power of love"

"Bihari, what do you know of love" I felt foolish after having said it. Bihari didn't answer for a long time and then asked in almost inaudible tone "Memsahib have you ever loved?"

"Yes" I whispered "Yes". Somehow I couldn't fathom why did I admit this to a mere rikshawala. I was reminded of my own love a decade back. I was only eighteen then and my lover had vanished like the morning mist.

"Bihari" I replied "please tell me about yourself." Perhaps I thought I could write a nice story on the life of a rikshawala. A flash of thunder rent the air, lending a eerie feeling to the atmosphere.

"Memsahib" began Bihari, "it's a long story almost like a dream" .
"Continue" I said with an air of finality. My mind was made up to listen to Biharis tale.

It appeared that for a moment Bihari was lost in reverie, but he suddenly appeared to wake up "It was a long time ago. In those days I used to stay in the village back home"

"Home?" I asked,

"Yes, Bihar. I was eighteen when I got married. She was a nice girl two years younger than me."

Bihari told me it was a arranged marriage and he got to see his bride only a few hours before the wedding. The rain in the meantime beat around us creating a veritable storm. Bihari continued with his tale "Memsahib it all started during the marriage rites when I was going around the sacred fire with my bride to be. Sitting close to my mother was a lovely girl. She was beautiful and I was smitten by her. I do not know whether it was love or animal instinct. Whatever it was I longed to possess that girl. Later I came to know that she was my wife's best friend."

"Was she very beautiful?" I asked.

"Yes! She was slim with a narrow waist and lovely hips. But what struck me were her breasts. Lovely and erect. As you know village girls do not wear any bra, yet her breasts seemed to strain against her coarse blouse"

Bihari took a deep breath and continued" Memsahib I tried to forget her and took my wife to my home. But fate always has a hand and so it did in my case. After about two months of my marriage my in laws called me to their house for a short visit. I did not want to go but my wife insisted. In fact I feared that something ominous may happen for my emotion, but finally I went. Her parents gave us a small room at the back of the house. While entering the room I saw my that girl again as she had come to greet her friend.Strange thoughts enveloped my mind and I wanted to possess her and nothing could take that thought from my mind.

"Bihari abruptly stopped and looked up at the sky. My fear that he would stop his tale were unfounded. He took a deep breath and continued, "I went to sleep and woke up early. The sun had as yet not risen and it was still dark. I went out to ease myself. My wife slept on. After some time I ventured towards the hand pump. I was a few yards away when I stopped in my tracks. Right in front of me taking bath at the hand pump was the same girl. Bihari paused for a moment and took a deep breath. It was as if he was savouring that moment. Outside the shelter the rain continued on its devilish course.

"Bihari, what was her name" I asked quietly, somewhat afraid to interrupt his thoughts.

"Malti!. Memsahib she looked like a goddess. She was dark and her skin glistened in the night. At that time Malti saw me and ran away"

"Did you not go after her?"

"No memsahib, no. I wanted to go but the rising sun and the first rays of sunlight deterred me. I came back to my room in an excited state. Seeing my wife sleeping I closed my eyes and thought of Malti.

Biharis tale and had a aphrodisiac effect and I felt a tumult in my heart. The roads were deserted as the rain had now turned into a virtual cloud burst.

"Bihari, Agge kya huah? ( What happened then?)" I asked curious to know what happened further.

"As I have told you that girl had taken possession of my soul. However I had to leave and so we departed back to my house after lunch"

"Did you never see her again?" I asked.

Bihari replied "No , memsahib that was not the end. There was one more encounter and after that I never saw her again. It was the festival of Holi when Malti came down to spend some time with her sister. I noticed that she had taken great care with her appearance and dress. I wanted to smear colour on her".

A flash of thunder caused a momentary interlude in Biharis tale. He drew the riksha into the darkest of nooks and continued "The day of Holi dawned. I waited my chance and springing like a tiger carried Malti to the local pond near my house. Under the guise of Holi I dipped her into the pond. Afraid of the water she clung to my chest. The wet sari clung to her body. Her breasts jutted out and I smothered them to my chest. And then I could restrain myself no longer. I kissed her lips and jabbed my tongue into her mouth. I kissed her throat and carrier her to a nearby bush.

She continued clinging to me while making soft whimpering sounds. I tore into her and completely possessed her. She left the next day"

Bihari was now lost in a reverie.

"And that is the end of the tale!"

"No memsahib, no. She was married within a week of that fateful day. However just two days after her wedding Malti's husband had a fall and broke his neck. The death was termed as accidental"

I was shaken. This tale had profound effect on me. It was a macabre ending. The lightning flashed and I saw the eyes of Bihari. One look and I knew the killer. But Bihari lifted me from the riksha and pressed me to him. The rain was beating ferociously I sensed his intention. But I could not resist and he kissed me again and again and thrust his tongue deep in my mouth. He had brute strength. All the while he whispered

"You are like Malti, my Malti...."
As the rain beat all around mercilessly and no one in sight this man Bihari possesssed me as never before. It was more like a dream. I sighed. Bihari now in full prime took me to the Garden of Eden. He moved furiously and after what seemed a eon paid his tribute to me. The rain had stopped. Bihari rose and kissed me.

"Maf Karna( forgive me) Memsahib. You looked so much like Malti"

Satiated I walked away as if in a trance. Needless to say I never met Bihari again. Somehow I never did a story on Bihari. But now that fifteen years have elapsed, why not?