Charu was very disturbed after the outburst with Sam. She stayed put in the balcony standing with her face against the iron grill and stared at the nightly sky.
Alex did not interrupt her meditation and retired early.
Yes, that’s your problem. You are so consumed by what you are and what you want to do that you don’t care for others’ emotions or feelings.
After a while she picked up her back-pack and tottered towards the guest room. It was a small cozy room with a narrow bed at the corner. She took out her laptop from the back-pack and placed it on the desk. It was an antique desk and could have been made with wood from a teak or wall nut tree. An incandescent bulb above the desk made the room glow a sultry yellow. The ceiling fan was silent but rotated very slow.
She waited impatiently for Microsoft Word to launch.
Alright, here goes my story. Who am I?
I am the vagina you have been desperate to get into.
Hairy and the audacious one.
Someone whom you tried hard to impress, even when my best friend was dying. Didn’t you ever realize, what I must have been going through? Did your pea brain ever imagine my emotional turmoil? All you must have imagined the entire ride would have been how do I get into you?
Every time you say that I look gorgeous, it makes me wonder if you really mean that or it is just an excuse to open the door and maybe find a way inside.
Have you noticed my smirk when you say that? Well you never observe, never listen. You are so full of yourself.
Yes, that’s your problem. You are so consumed by what you are and what you want to do that you don’t care for others’ emotions or feelings. Have you for once asked what and where I am from? What and where I studied? But I always listen to your crap.
Why do you wear those colour coordinated branded clothes? You try too hard to impress, not because you care but that you have to prove that you are the best. And that is such a turn off.
That day at the library I was going through such an emotional upheaval, but you went on and on about some stupid software. Yes you enquired, but I did not feel the warmth. I thought you were judging me. And may be feeling good about how your life is super cool compared to my messy fucked up life.
You have a rich man’s complex, which creates a false sense of superiority, where you have to be constantly right and loud, always. You want every other penis and vagina to sit and suck up to your fucking balls.
For all of you, it is just about the conquest, once we let you in, you lock us up as a trophy, put it on display for your tribe to applaud your achievement and then move on to the next hunt.
I am amused at how you idiots consume your entire life in the sole pursuit of conquering us that you have lost sight of other important things that really matter. I many times doubt the sincerity of some penises that climb mountains, swim across seas, jump from tall buildings, or fall into an inferno. It is hard to believe that you all are capable of such feats without the motivation of impressing a vagina, so that she would let her guard down, and you can sneak inside.
Why do you and your tribe want to possess, control and lock us up? You can’t even manage one. Why do you feel so insecure about your capabilities?
But aren’t you forgetting something? That we vaginas have a life of our own? That we like a world that has nothing to do with you? That we love sunrise, rain, chocolate, the kiss of a child, hug of a dog, water kissing our feet, smile of a toothless granny, smell of sand before the rain, taste of a sour mango, the rush of adrenalin before the win, audiences’ applause, money at the end of a hard working day.
And did you notice that you or the wretched sex had nothing to do with any of these?
I just read that a bastard in central India literally screwed a lock across his wife’s vagina and carried the key with him. My blood boils at you rascals. But somehow the emotional politics are worse than physical torture. It is so hard to gauge what goes in the heads of your dirty penises.
We would never be able to measure where we are in your million scales. It’s amazing the number of vaginas you could fall in love with at the same time. I really don’t mind the lust part, it is just natural, but at least be honest to yourself.
Alright, we commit to you. We will not see another penis ever. Can you make that commitment? Would you wear that cross for an entire life? Fuck you will do it. It is not your fault, you have a manufacturing defect. You are all designed to think only from the head of the penis, everything else follows later.
You know what; I would want to love any person I like. I love because I can, irrespective of whether the other person can reciprocate or not. I like to be loved. I want to fall in love completely and unconditionally, and as the relationship fades which it will, I’ll quickly move away without becoming baggage. I might want to make love to men, not because they have a damn penis, but because they are more than a stupid lump of muscles, bones and nerves… That their words speak the truth of the heart… That their lives are bigger than the digging of vaginas. When they can be kind to a child on the street and at the same time hold their ground even when speaking the truth might spoil their chances in life.
Don’t be quick to judge me. I don’t like to lead a life because someone thinks it is the right thing to do.
Make no mistake, if I want you inside, I will tell you.
If you thought you can figure me out, screw you.
A shameless vagina
Charu in a quick reflex copied the text and posted it on her Facebook profile. She hit submit, slyly bit her lips, smiled at the screen briefly, closed the laptop, switched off the light and swiftly jumped on to the bed.
She slept well immediately, but got up in the middle of the night to find some food. After some investigations at the refrigerator, she settled for an over ripe banana and washed it down with a bottle of water. She looked at her mobile to check if Sam had messaged. He had not, but she was not worried. She was anxious how he might respond if he read her post.
we love sunrise, rain, chocolate, the kiss of a child, hug of a dog, water kissing our feet, smile of a toothless granny, smell of sand before the rain, taste of a sour mango, the rush of adrenalin before the win.
“Good morning Charu, when did you wake up?" Alex approached her at the dining table the next morning.
“Very good morning sir, care for some toast and green tea?" she offered and her eyes were burning bright with a sense of accomplishment.
“You seem cheerful compared to the grumpy Charu of last night and I am hoping it has got to do with little more than you making breakfast," Alex was sarcastic.
Charu continued to smile while nodding her head sideways. “Read this," and moved her laptop towards him. Her passionate but ratty post on Facebook had provoked a highly polarized thread of comments on her timeline. Her post had already been liked by over 240 people and shared by 72 people and still counting.
Alex’s face remained still most of the time with occasional smiles and sometimes with raised eyebrows. His face turned serious when reading the comments that followed. A few of them did quite stand out.
Alex took a deep breath and looked at her, “Charu, your post is going to make you very popular in college for sure, but be ready to face the consequences."
“Being fearless is one, but never be conceited. People don’t remember what you did to them, but they would never forget till their grave about how you made them feel. You might argue that it was a reaction to how someone made you feel, but never underestimate the potency of a disgraced beast."
“Anyways, I will be leaving after my bath, when would you be gone?" and he looked directly at her eyes.
“I am packed, was just waiting for you. Thank you for allowing me to stay at your house. It really helped me, collect myself."
Alex smiled at her as he walked towards his room.