Consoling friend’s grieving mother
Life is more dramatic than drama
Some events appear to be abnormal crazy, extraordinary, diabolic, taboo, unethical, unbelievable, and even perverted and unacceptable to societal norms. Analyzing the behavior of people involved in such incidents without bias opens a door and reveals human psyche. The persons in the story happen to fulfill their inner psychological need and physical desire the basic instinct in peculiar circumstances. Some people may call it animal instinct and indecent but the desire to satisfy hidden, craving physiological need erupts despite all reasoning, logic, traditions, religious beliefs, and possible consequences. Love and romance made them happy and consequently lead a normal satisfied life without guilty complex. The story is based on real life incidents. Names changed for obvious reasons. However, the essence of what happened described in detail revealing the inner thoughts and feelings of the people involved. There are erotic moments described in detail wherever necessary to reveal their inner psyche.
It was a Sunday early morning, hearing loud noises from the Hostel corridor, I came out of my room and learnt to my shock and surprise our classmate Mohan was found dead in his room, obviously committed suicide. An empty arsenic bottle and a suicide note found besides the bed.
He hails from a wealthy rich landlord family, the only son of his parents and doing well in studies. He married six months earlier Madhusmita. No one could imagine plausible reasons for his suicide. The Warden informed the Police and the body was sent for Postmortem.
His parents arrived the following morning from their native place. All of us were in the Hostel Common room when Mohan’s parents arrived. The moment, they got down I went near Mohan’s mother Padmavathy and took her hands into mine. She instantly leaned on to me as I put my hands on her shoulders. Mohan’s father accompanied by the Warden and some of our friends went to the hospital to complete the formalities and take his son’s body to their native village.
I being Mohan’s close friend, I stayed back to take care of grieving mother Padmavathy. I took her to the Guest room situated on top floor. She was obviously exhausted and tired. I requested her to take bath and she went to the bathroom. I went out and brought breakfast and coffee in a thermos for both of us from hostel Mess.
She was looking refreshed after having bath and changed into a fresh thin georgette sari.
I said, ‘Amma, you must be starving since yesterday, have some breakfast’
She said, ‘No Shiva, I am not hungry. Please go ahead and have your breakfast’
I said, ‘Let us have some coffee at least.’ On my insistence, she sipped a cup of coffee.
I told her if she wanted to take some rest, I would leave her alone.
She said pleadingly taking my hand, ‘don’t leave me please. I want you to be with me’
‘I will not leave you Amma, I will be with you.’ I said and sat on the sofa.
She was standing in front of full-length mirror. Sitting on the sofa, I could see both her back and front, her huge voluminous bouncing breasts hung heavily from her chest moving as she lifted both her hands to remove hairpins from hair bun. She raised her hands, inserted fingers into hair bun, removed hair pins, lifted up and flaunted her hair to loosen further. Her long thick luxurious lustrous wavy oily smooth silky soft shining hair cascaded down reaching mid thighs. She combed her hair slowly and carefully to disentangle her hair. She combed hair backwards from forehead, parted her hair perfectly and neatly in the middle and put two equal parts onto the front over both the shoulders. She combed uniformly thick voluminous long thick hair until the perfectly trimmed ends. It was a time a consuming task and took long time to disentangle and comb her thick voluminous hair. I was captivated and fascinated watching her comb oily long uniformly thick jet-black luxurious lustrous voluminous smooth shining silky wavy hair. I wanted to comb her long hair but restrained to volunteer for the fear of being rebuked. She tossed her hair back and combed downwards. Her hair spread wide covering her entire back reaching mid thighs.
It was a visual feast to me watching her back and her front image in the mirror watching the fluid moments of her huge heavy firm hung bouncing breasts, curvaceous lean taut hourglass body and the fluid movements of her beautiful hands while she was combing her hair. She arranged her hair with deft hands covering her ears and left loose till the hem of the wide deep very low cut blouse and skillfully arranged by making loops with hands into a neat loose big beautiful bun without hair pins resting on her back.
I watched the moments of her beautiful loose big hair bun, her curvaceous hourglass shaped body draped in a flowing thin transparent chiffon plain sari with plain border, pleats tucked neatly much below the deep navel, taut belly, and the narrow waist widened as it went down to wide huge bouncing hips. The sari pallu open along her shoulder as well as arm highlighting her top heavy breasts and hour glass figure. The shape and contours of her top-heavy big extra-large huge firm swinging bouncing breasts, proportionately large areola and long nipples were visible through her thin matching color blouse and bra in the mirror. Her breasts looked from the side view like mountains with firm erect large brown nipples.
At that moment, I remembered her beautiful exuberant confident smiling happy and joyous sexy sizzling image exuding and flaunting her beauty and feminine sexuality during her son’s wedding ceremonies. She was like a Beauty Queen. She was wearing rich pure silk gold Zari border silk saris low hip and backless blouse. She was adorned with elaborate heavy gold and diamond jewelry from head to toe, showing off her beautiful curvaceous hour glass sexy sizzling sensuous body. Her wide expressive large eyes kajal lined, top heavy extra-large big bouncing conical huge firm voluminous provocatively swinging mountainous full breasts with firm large erect nipples extending out of lean frame, thin taut lean midriff, jasmine flower threads adorned thick silky thigh length long braid.
She was undoubtedly a beautiful and sexy sensuous woman exuding feminine grace, epitome of sensuality, the height of prime sexuality and crescent linger of explicit womanhood.
I recalled her actively encouraging engaging indulgent flirting conversations, her bewitchingly beautiful and inviting smiles, her deep husky sexy voice, her invigorative intoxicating body scent mixed with aroma of jasmine flowers in her braid, the unmistakable infatuation, mutual fatal attraction and love at first sight, and the longing desire to spend time with each other. I felt bit surprised at myself having such thoughts about her at that juncture. She was a grieving mother. I looked into her eyes with admiration, love, lust, compassion, empathy and desire.
She sat on the sofa, adjusting her sari pleats and pallu neatly. She was calm but her large sorrowful expressive eyes revealed showed the agony and grief.
She asked ‘when did it really happen?’
Even before I replied, she started crying, stream of tears rolling down continuously on her cheeks making her sari pallu wet.
I said, ‘Amma, I can understand the pain and agony you must be going through ever since you heard the news. I have so many fond memories of him hanging out and but most of all we remember the beautiful days we spent. I talked about some memories and the good times I shared with Mohan. I said, ‘he became my closest friend in the college and I miss him very much.’