Adam And Eve

Adam and Eve

He felt good. Her gentle laughter, her delicate perfume, her tight kurta on a pair of jeans, they made him feel young. The two of them were strolling in the ruins of Mahabalipuram. He had actually called her there to discuss their next workshop with a nationally renowned artist. 

They were members of group that called themselves ‘Sculpt’ - An artists support group. No sorry, they were not exactly equal members,for he, Brahma had started it while she, Naina, was just an enthusiastic art student, recently passed out. She was just 23 for his 48 years but he knew she was drawn to his voluptuous manhood which he had carefully groomed. His  daily 500 pushups and 10 km run were a regimen no amount of pressure, would make him give up.

Even if Sunita, his wife of 25 years, had tasks for him  or their son needed his time, everything was secondary to his need of the self ‘maintenance’ schedule.

It did pay rich dividends, actually very young dividends. Though Brahma didn’t really do this deliberately. He just enjoyed attention and Naina had been giving him some.

Naina, was walking gayly between the shade of the rock- cut caves and the nourishing december sun light. She was a talented sculptor, exploring her own truths through her art. Joining and helping set up ‘Sculpt’ had been her way of contributing to her belief that art heals. Brahma, to her, was this sensitive and caring person who she had initially looked up to. But when the admiration switched to a crush, she did not know. All she knew was, if he called a meeting, she would be magnetically drawn to go. Though this was the first time she and he were alone, as the few who had committed to come to discuss the next event, had backed out in the last minute. 

She was humming a number from a new bollywood movie. He didnt know the tune, and didn’t want her to know that. The difference in their ages, made itself felt in these moments. But not when they discussed art.

Soon he said, ‘Chalo Naina, lets move on, we’ll decide the details over lunch.’

‘Sure! How about we eat at ‘The Banyan’? 

‘Hmm, ok, though i haven’t heard of it before’.

‘You’ll love it Brahma!’ Naina gushed with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

‘The Banyan’ turned out to be pretty exotic, there were individual tables in tiny cottages, the whole contraption resting on top of trees. Every tree, a table!

Climbing up on the narrow steps, they went into one of the small cottages. As they sat in, slightly squeezed, Brahma’s expanding biceps, brushed past Naina’s breast and Brahma became acutely aware of how close they were seated.

Avoiding her watchful eyes, he ordered a fruit juice and started answering some mails on his phone.

Then Naina, gently touched his calves with her feet.

He looked up, obviously stricken and feeling instantly aroused.

They were just inches apart, and in a second, something regrettable could have happened. Brahma got up suddenly, and climbed down the cottage steps without another word, left, flushed red and flustered.

As he drove back to Chennai, he thought, it had taken him three years to set up ‘Sculpt’. Though he had been trained as an artist, he had given up art to make a living in advertising. ‘Sculpt’ was his way of making amends for this purely materialistic choice that was forced on him, when his 

sweetheart in college became pregnant and he had to find work that paid, right after college. 

He had now reached a homeostasis of financial stability but his soul wanted more. ‘Sculpt’ was his wife’s idea. 

Initially Brahma set a trust fund, from which he arranged group shows in prestigious art galleries of promising young artists. Soon a large group of young and old artists joined the folds of ‘Sculpt’ and Brahma now had a team to arrange bimonthly exhibitions with talks at interesting locales.

After three years, the whole thing had become a kind of predictable routine.  So to break the  humdrum, Naina, one of the active and early entrants of the group, suggested that the next show be at Mahabalipuram amidst the rock cut caves, where permission could be had for a sculpture show near the beach, preceded by a talk near Shore temple.

Thats how Brahma had found himself in this uncomfortable situation.

He had no intentions of getting involved with anyone. And certainly no one from the group or so young. He was completely committed to his wife, even though there were always minor irritants. In the art world, some of his colleagues had become internationally known. They suffered initial years of  penury but eventually their steadfast hard work saw them through and now there was no turning back. Somewhere deep down, Brahma blamed his wife for having lost another way of life.

Brahma had a fairly great start in his advertising career, there was plenty of money, but fame had eluded him. He also felt the listlessness that comes from set routines in stable jobs. 

‘Sculpt’ was to make amends and add some meaning to his life.

The last thing he needed was a blemish to his reputation. Not having fame was better than being gossiped about. In matters of gossip, Chennai was just like a village, where everyone knew someone connected to someone else, and two heads were all that was needed for delicious gossip. 

But as he thought all this, suddenly in his mind, he imagined feeling the soft curve at the nape of Naina’s neck with his face in it, as his lips traced the line of her collar bone to the depression under her throat.

He drank a mouthful of water, while he held the steering wheel with one hand. He had just entered the city suburbs. ‘The Banyan’ was a couple of kilometres behind. 

Abdominal Breathing. He remembered the advice he had received for controlling his emotions. He began breathing so hard, his inflated belly touched the steering wheel.

It worked, he reached home. Finding Sunita curled up attractively on the bed in an afternoon nap, he slipped his hand over her saree and undressed her, made love to her, who though surprised, quickly got into the mood and eventually  Brahma totally  exhausted, slept off that sunday afternoon without a lunch.

Two weeks later, ‘Sculpt’ was having a meeting at the very pleasant casuarina trees covered sit- out at Brahma’s house. He had built a semicircular small amphitheater with the trees almost forming a canopy, which could comfortably  seat 50 people, in his sprawling garden.

As friends trooped in helping themselves to the tea kept in the flask, placing the colourful cushions on their backs or behinds, Brahma saw Naina walk in.

She had left her long tresses open and wore a saree. A tasteful chosen hand-woven saree, worn slightly under the navel, a silver pendant on a black thread, encircling her small neck, kajal lined eyes, and tingling yellow glass bangles.

Brahma couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had an urgent need to urinate and he excused himself. Back home, he noticed his wife and asked her to join in for the meeting.

‘I’ll be bored’

‘No, you won’t, today we are judging artworks of final year students from Cept, Ahemdabad, on the  projector. Come, na, it will be good.

Keeping his wife close  to him, he felt more protected, from his own imagination!

The meeting went well after that. The new batch of artists for the next exhibition was decided, the  venue arrangements for the workshop at Mahabalipuram detailed by Naina. Brahma was largely content. People started leaving, after helping with packing the projector. 

Lastly Brahma went to close the lights of the amphitheter when a hand caught his wrist in the dark, as he was weaving back under the trees, to the house. He knew the arm, the smell. She pressed herself against him, her soft belly against his hardness, he found her mouth and kissed her in complete abandon. Lifting her he took her to the stepped amphitheater and right there on the floor, few feet from his wife, his son, perhaps a servant or two, his two dogs, he made love to Naina, semi- clothed and naked in places. It felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes. 

The need to keep making love, enflamed them both for a while, and they met here and there, in hotels and in her home, in day trips and short out station trips. It was  like a cloud had encircled Brahmas’s head, from one ear to another, making everything in between hot. He just couldn’t think straight. When he tried to work, his mind would conjure images of their love-making and the cloud would be back. He was useless for three weeks. 

Eventually everything cooled down. He had to end it. But how?

He asked Naina to come home one day. He said, he wanted to show her something. Sunita was at home and had cooked a delicious maharastrian spread. After lunch, Naina who had been mostly quiet, looked at Brahma, with a ‘what  next’ question in her eyes. He took her to the den, and for the first time, 

Naina saw pictures of Sunita and Brahma’s entire life in framed pictures that went from floor to ceiling. 

‘I am sorry Naina. We can’t go on. Sunita is my whole life.  I didn’t have the strength to resist you, but now it has to stop.

Please forgive me, if you can.’

Naina was looking at him carefully.  A light suddenly shone on her face. 

‘I understand. The fire has died in you. I guess its because you are old. Its still alive in me, but it doesnt matter and dont fool yourself about Sunita or these pictures or the past. Had you been 23, you would have not said what you just did, in merely three weeks!’

Brahma could not look her in the eye.

She smiled and left.

They never met again.  Each found a way to forgive, forget and move on. Years later, Naina made an award winning sculpture of two figures in the gayest abandon of making love under trees, that set viewers on fire. It was titled ‘Adam and Eve’.