string which ran between them.
‘Bring it into the bathroom when it is ready.’
Champak got up, opened her wardrobe, fished out a shaving set hidden in the folds of her saris and went into the bathroom. She did not close either the door behind her or the other one which opened into the courtyard. Mundoo was not going to restrict her movements. He was just a servant and a grubby little boy at that. She decided to ignore his presence.
After a few minutes she came back to her bedroom without anything on. She put the shaving set back in its place and stood in front of her full lengthdressing-table mirror to inspect the results of the operation and admire the contours of her chocolate brown body. She loosened her hair and turned round to see how she looked from behind. Her hair fell to the point at which her buttocks rose like softly rounded water-melons. There were dimples on either side of her rear waist. She turned round once more, inhaled deeply, and lifted her breasts with the palms of her hands and then ran her fingers round her nipples till they became rounded like berries. She clasped her arms above her head and wriggled her hips in the manner of hula-hula dancers. She drew her belly in as much as she could and stroked it with her hand down on either side to her knees. She studied her face and figure in all the postures she had seen in photographs of nude models. She found the reflection in the mirror to her satisfaction.
In the courtyard, Mundoo finished washing the kitchen utensils and was on his hands and knees once more blowing into the hearth. He looked like a frog with the wrong end up.
Champak smiled to herself and went back to the bathroom. She shut the door opening into the courtyard without bolting it and shouted for the bath water. She turned the tap full on into the bucket and began to hum the tune coming over the air.
Mundoo lifted the canister of hot water by the wooden rod which ran through it on the top. It was heavy; he carried it a few paces at a time. When he reached the bathroom door he put it down to regain strength to take it over the threshold. He gripped the handle with both hands, knocked the door open withhis forehead, and carried it in. He put the canister beside the bucket and looked up.
‘Why don’t you knock or call before you come into the bathroom?’
Champak hid her nakedness with her hands between her knees. Her raven black hair fell on either side of her neck. Her breasts looked out from between her arms. Mundoo stared stupidly at her without replying and then started to back out of the door.
‘What shall I mix the water in? Both the bucket and the canister are full.’
Mundoo turned off the tap, tilted the bucket a little to let some of the water run out, and began to pour the hot water from the canister with a small copper mug. His eyes never rose above Champak’s knees, nor left them. Champak remained as she was, hiding her nakedness with her hands, watching the boy’s embarrassment.
‘In future, knock before you come in. Sometimes I have no clothes on.’
‘I must tell you what happened today. My God! I nearly died of shame.’ Champak always added ‘my God’ or ‘by God’ whenever she wanted to emphasize something. She also had the habit of turning the conversation to herself. It was either some compliment paid to her, a pass made at her in the street, or someone looking at her lecherously. It invariably ended the same way, ‘my God,’ or, ‘by God,’ the embarrassment had nearly killed her. Her husband paid little attention to these anecdotes, and that evening he had matters of greaterimportance on his mind so he barely heard what she had to say.
‘You should not have stayed alone in the house all day; you should have come to the fair. What a turnout at my meeting! First we had a march past of the Student Volunteer Corps. No one had seen such smartness from civilians before. The S.V.C. has come to mean something. Then I addressed the meeting. There was
‘Bring it into the bathroom when it is ready.’
Champak got up, opened her wardrobe, fished out a shaving set hidden in the folds of her saris and went into the bathroom. She did not close either the door behind her or the other one which opened into the courtyard. Mundoo was not going to restrict her movements. He was just a servant and a grubby little boy at that. She decided to ignore his presence.
After a few minutes she came back to her bedroom without anything on. She put the shaving set back in its place and stood in front of her full lengthdressing-table mirror to inspect the results of the operation and admire the contours of her chocolate brown body. She loosened her hair and turned round to see how she looked from behind. Her hair fell to the point at which her buttocks rose like softly rounded water-melons. There were dimples on either side of her rear waist. She turned round once more, inhaled deeply, and lifted her breasts with the palms of her hands and then ran her fingers round her nipples till they became rounded like berries. She clasped her arms above her head and wriggled her hips in the manner of hula-hula dancers. She drew her belly in as much as she could and stroked it with her hand down on either side to her knees. She studied her face and figure in all the postures she had seen in photographs of nude models. She found the reflection in the mirror to her satisfaction.
In the courtyard, Mundoo finished washing the kitchen utensils and was on his hands and knees once more blowing into the hearth. He looked like a frog with the wrong end up.
Champak smiled to herself and went back to the bathroom. She shut the door opening into the courtyard without bolting it and shouted for the bath water. She turned the tap full on into the bucket and began to hum the tune coming over the air.
Mundoo lifted the canister of hot water by the wooden rod which ran through it on the top. It was heavy; he carried it a few paces at a time. When he reached the bathroom door he put it down to regain strength to take it over the threshold. He gripped the handle with both hands, knocked the door open withhis forehead, and carried it in. He put the canister beside the bucket and looked up.
‘Why don’t you knock or call before you come into the bathroom?’
Champak hid her nakedness with her hands between her knees. Her raven black hair fell on either side of her neck. Her breasts looked out from between her arms. Mundoo stared stupidly at her without replying and then started to back out of the door.
‘What shall I mix the water in? Both the bucket and the canister are full.’
Mundoo turned off the tap, tilted the bucket a little to let some of the water run out, and began to pour the hot water from the canister with a small copper mug. His eyes never rose above Champak’s knees, nor left them. Champak remained as she was, hiding her nakedness with her hands, watching the boy’s embarrassment.
‘In future, knock before you come in. Sometimes I have no clothes on.’
‘I must tell you what happened today. My God! I nearly died of shame.’ Champak always added ‘my God’ or ‘by God’ whenever she wanted to emphasize something. She also had the habit of turning the conversation to herself. It was either some compliment paid to her, a pass made at her in the street, or someone looking at her lecherously. It invariably ended the same way, ‘my God,’ or, ‘by God,’ the embarrassment had nearly killed her. Her husband paid little attention to these anecdotes, and that evening he had matters of greaterimportance on his mind so he barely heard what she had to say.
‘You should not have stayed alone in the house all day; you should have come to the fair. What a turnout at my meeting! First we had a march past of the Student Volunteer Corps. No one had seen such smartness from civilians before. The S.V.C. has come to mean something. Then I addressed the meeting. There was
Similar Books
