A bright Wednesday morning welcomed my sleepy eyes. I woke up, stretching myself in front of the mirror. The clock showed 5.30 a.m. “Fucking momos. I’m late.” It’s always the same with me. Momos? I don’t even like momos. It’s just this weird thing I’ve said for ages now — some odd habit that sticks.
Nothing personal. But somehow, in those few seconds of flustered panic, it feels right. Another stretch. Nothing too fancy, just enough to convince myself I’m getting the blood flowing. The clock on my phone was relentless, though — glaring back at me like it had some vendetta.
My hand reached for the yoga mat on the mirror stand, spreading it across the floor. Being a yoga practitioner all my life, I calmly relaxed my breathing before starting each asana one after the other. Each one was tough by general opinion, but I effortlessly performed with dedication and discipline.
After an hour, I looked over at my reflection in the giant wooden mirror, silently waiting in the corner. A girl stood on the other side, with a pretty heart-shaped face, slender, with really beautiful curves. Quickly freshening up, a graceful bath in the hot shower, I prepared for the office.
I left my apartment, clad in a saree, my usual office attire. I was the only one to wear a saree to the office daily, owing to my orthodox, strict Brahmin upbringing. The same which made me never date anyone, though I am hot eye candy myself.
Cruising through the busy streets of Bangalore, I often miss the peacefulness of my village back in Alappuzha, Kerala. Reaching the office, I made my way to my cabin, fending off glares, compliments, and greetings from the staff.
At 24, I just got promoted to Advertisement Manager, the youngest person to be in that position in the MNC I was working in. It was my hard work and commitment, coupled with my natural talent as a people person. It landed me a huge promotion in just 2 years.
I opened the door to my new cabin, wondering when I would get used to having a cabin for myself. An excited feeling of accomplishment rang in my head as I saw my name board on the table, Apsara Pandit. I smiled as I gracefully sat on the chair.
I childishly rotated before stopping abruptly as my phone rang. It was Sophia Rathore, the Assistant Director of our branch, who was my boss. I sprang up almost instinctively, “Hello ma’am,” I respectfully answered the call.
“Hey Apsara, have you settled in your new cabin yet?” She queried. She had an authoritarian voice, though elegant and posh. She is of upper management, and her decision is final in our branch.
“Yeah, it’s really great. Thanks for all the support, ma’am,” I responded.
“Okay. I want you to know you earned it. However, I expect a lot from you. I have sent an email right now, go through it. We have a meeting with that client coming on Friday. I need you to pitch the idea we discussed. Make a PowerPoint presentation. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am, saw the mail. I’ll get it done” A silent pressure shook me, the first responsibility as manager. I cannot afford a mess up. Spending the rest of the day on the presentation, based on prior discussions and my own research, it was almost done.
Just need to wrap this in an elegant format, then it’s over, a job of less than 2 hours. And I have the whole next day remaining. Deciding to call it a day, I packed my things to leave. Not bad!
Walking down the stairs, I saw Kunal. A tall, handsome guy, already a manager in the company. He was staring at me with puppy eyes. I did feel sorry for him as I ignored him, moving on. He was the latest guy whose proposal I rejected, and he definitely won’t be the last.
While parking my scooter in the shed back at the apartment, Pournima walked up to me. “Hey, manager ma’am,” she mocked as she pinched my shoulder.
“Ouch,” I giggled. Pournima is a married homemaker, living next to my apartment. She’s a close friend of mine, and we hang out in the evenings, cooking food, and shopping. She never made me miss home. “Where’s the party you scrooges?”
“Scroogess? That’s not even a word!” breaking into laughter “Okay, Highness, I’ll do the cooking today, happy?!”
I got back to my apartment, planning to cook something really nice. Veg fried rice and Paneer butter masala with Gulab Jamun as dessert, good idea! I thought to myself. I scavenged my kitchen. “Paneer Check! Rice Check! Oh wait! Tomatoes!”
I put my hand on my head, tomatoes being the only missing ingredient. I need to shop just for that. Pournima told me of a new vegetable vendor close to our apartment. So no longer necessary for a drive to the store, almost a kilometre away.
From afar, the stall was humble, but seemed clean. There was no customer, which meant no queue to wait for. While walking over, I simultaneously checked my Google Drive, trying to arrange a few documents I gathered back when in the office.
I reached the stall, eyes glued to the phone for a few minutes. “Fucking momos!” I yelled, unable to find a file, only to find it in the next few seconds. A relief soothed me as I put away my phone, looking up to meet the vendor.
It was a young boy. A book on Engineering Graphics in his hand, something taught during the first year of engineering. So, he’s probably 18 or 19 years old. So he is in his growing phase, but at least now, he is shorter than me. His face was of mongoloid structure, strongly suggesting north east Indian.
He was very cute, though he emitted a certain rough, thick masculinity, aided by well-defined biceps and arms adorned with complex tattoos. His t-shirt was torn and dirty, and he was wearing beaded bands on his arms.
The kid seemed to belong to the slum complex a few blocks away. However, he carried an aura of firm personality and maturity. “One kilo of tomato, please” I smiled at him in a friendly gesture. He indifferently stared at me, then returned to reading his book.
I was taken aback. He was obviously being rude, ignoring me plainly. It was shocking, never have I been ignored or rejected. In a slightly higher tone, I repeated, “Kiddo… I said, One kilo tomato please.”
He raised his head briefly, giving me an irritated look, before getting back to his book. A cocktail of emotions was spinning in my head. I scoffed and left the stall. Getting back to my apartment, I closed the door behind me. I was disturbed; I thought this day was going to be perfect.
I lay on my sofa, thinking about what went wrong. Was it the momos remark? Or is he like that generally? I got lost in my thoughts, feeling uneasy. Brushing it off as a silly incident, I went to prepare food as planned. But I couldn’t; some uneasiness held me back.
I called up Pournima to tell her to cancel our plans as I wasn’t feeling good. I kept on rewinding the scene and again, getting more restless each time. Finally, I decided to sleep on it, maybe I’ll be better tomorrow.
The next day, I woke up at 5.30 a.m. But today, I wasn’t feeling any energy or enthusiasm. I pulled my blanket over and slept again. I woke up again at 10.30 a.m. “Dammit, I’m late for work!” Opening my laptop, I applied for Work From Home.
I felt guilty and disappointed, I had never before broken my yoga session before, nor missed a day at work. My mind drifted to yesterday, how a perfect day was ruined, and my mood got worse than yesterday. I needed a distraction. I opened my laptop again, working on my presentation.
An hour passed by, but I was getting nowhere. My mind was not in the right place. I closed my laptop. Getting dressed in a loose t-shirt and pyjamas, I get a polythene cover and head outside. I watch the stall from a distance, and there is a good crowd there.
I needed some closure, or maybe I’ll yell at the kid, I needed something. I reached the stall, waiting in the queue. I saw Pournima there, and she waved at me. I listlessly waved back as I joined her, skipping the crowd. She was buying vegetables and also chatting with the boy.
He was totally different now, smiling mischievously as they went, talking, occasionally flirting. When her turn was done, she moved aside. I raised my voice, “A kilo of tomato.”
Seeing me, the smile on his face disappeared. He didn’t care to open his mouth, just signalled his hand to move to the back of the line. Some aunties in the line joined him, ordering me to get in line. I felt humiliated as I abruptly left, and Pournami followed.
“Are you okay?” She asked as we entered the building. “You said you’re not feeling so good yesterday”.
“Yeah… no, I’m fine,” I replied, “Who is that kid?” I poked her
Her face lit up, “Oh, him, that’s Anang. His family is from Manipur, though he’d been here his whole life. He lives in that slum complex. Isn’t he adorable?”
“You seem to like that prick a lot, or you forgot you’re married,” I shot back before thinking. I walked ahead, leaving Pournima behind, shocked.
Back in my room, I was feeling miserable as each second passed. Never in my life have I felt so helpless. I couldn’t figure out why he’s rude to me. Finally, I decided. He’s just a slum kid, a poor beggar, who doesn’t even deserve a second of my attention. I switched on my TV.
A little after noon, the sun was bright. I observed the stall; there was nobody buying, just him. I inched closer to the stall. “What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I let this go?” I shrugged as I reached the stall entrance. “I need one kilo of tomato,” I demanded.
The boy just sat there indifferently. After a brief pause, he got up reluctantly, weighing a kilo of tomato before dumping it into the polythene, tossing it at me. I extended the money. He didn’t even bother to check, gesturing for me to keep it on the counter, while he returned to his phone.
I walked away. I felt a slight feeling of victory; I got the tomato. Back in my kitchen, I was chopping up the vegetables, deciding to make something elaborate. I set the water to boil, waiting. Several minutes passed by, and the water had already been boiling for a long time, as I got back to my senses.
I couldn’t lie to myself anymore; I was not over it. It was never about some tomatoes, a lie that I used to soothe my mind. It was about the lingering thought of rejection, something I never had to deal with. Now it caught me off guard. I needed closure. I was obsessed with him!
Evening grew thicker as the streets began getting empty. I got back from the shower, getting into grey pyjamas, and a pink body-hugging off-shoulder long sleeves. My work was a mess. A few minutes of focus is enough to clear it up, but focus is something I didn’t have.
I lay back on my cushion, closing my eyes. My day of promotion got ruined, I was rude to my best friend, I suffered a lot of mental stress. My work is messed up, all because of that slum prick. I felt embarrassed as I let this happen to me. I’m better than this. I felt grains of anger lingering in me as I got up.
It was around 11.00 pm. I was marching towards the stall. This time, I’ll show him! No more being nice. The prick had been taking advantage of my kindness. These idiots don’t deserve politeness. The only question that remains is whether he’s dumb or just a rude asshole.
The stall was semi-shut; he might be inside preparing to close and go home to his filthy slum house! I walk inside the stall, closing the shutter behind me. He was surprised to see me, which seemed cute for a moment. He let go of the basket he had in his hand, the tattoo on his biceps flowing accordingly.
He looked intensely at me as I went close to him. “What the fuck do you want?” he asked arrogantly. I stood frozen, unable to choose my next move. The intention to hurt him ebbed away as the boy stood close to me now, his eyes showing firm resolve.
He wasn’t afraid, nor did he care. He is arrogant, rude, and insanely hot! That’s what was bothering me all along! I was attracted to him from the moment I saw him, and his arrogance only fuelled it. An overwhelming sensation got over me as I looked at him, like a prey that walked into a lion’s den willingly.
“I’ll go, we’ll talk later,” I softly told him as I subtly retreated. But my luck was already down the bin. He sensed my feelings as he firmly gripped my hand “Where are you going now?” He pulled me closer to him gently, in a continuous flow. I moved to him, pressing myself to him, locking our lips.
A wild frenzy ensued as we were smooching each other with raw passion. Embarrassed, angry, and horny, I got into a heated tongue battle with the hot slum boy who ruined my two days.
Breaking off the kiss, he brushed his lips along my neck down to the shoulder exposed by the off-shoulder sleeve. He had a hunger that made me tremble. He licked, nipped and traced every curve, sinking his mouth on my collarbone. He was sucking the delicate skin while I wrapped my arms around his neck.
Embarrassed, biting my lips, desperately trying to hold my moans from escaping. I gasped as his hands found my ass, pressing the soft peaches through my thin fabric pyjamas as his lips found mine again. We made out feverishly, my desire burning away any final residues of resistance.
Within minutes, my sleeves fell on the dirty ground, leaving me in a black bra barely holding my huge breasts. Moving his arm behind my back. His skilled fingers unclasped the hook effortlessly, tossing the black fabric aside.
In a mixed feeling of embarrassment and pride, I did not even try to hide my exposed breasts. An erotic burning sensation coursed through me as, for the first time in my life, a guy was seeing me so. Without wasting any time, he pushed me down. My back squashed a heap of tomatoes on the ground.
My body was tainted with red juice as I giggled at the irony. Now I have all the tomatoes I need. He climbed on me, fondling my breasts as he sucked on my nipples. I was on cloud nine. I got lost in pleasure, moaning so loud I thought I might wake the whole neighbourhood.
He took his time feasting on my erect nipples, sucking and licking. I moaned and squirmed, kissing his hair as my fingers traced his muscular shoulders. He trailed kisses down my toned belly, sucking on my navel, making my belly jump up in excitement.
He looked at me, smirking, as I blushed. Suddenly, we heard a thud on the door.
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