saratkanur

What other name"...I don't have one.Still,I felt hair on my neck stand up and my groin tightened."What name" ..I whispered again and looked at the door, expecting his mother to emerge and catch me bare.

What mama calls you,........ "bolti".

Ahhhh......'bolti'.That bastard Darren! I had disliked it the day he foisted it on me .When young, on the way to school ,I had to cross a railway yard .An homosexual,a dirty old railway kalashee in flapping khaki shorts ,stood guard to a gravel yard and lured young boys with promises of sweets and small change to behind a stack of tar barrels and had them jack him off. One day, at a corner sweet shop, he sidled up to me and thrust a few sweets in my hand and invited me over.

"Come..Bolti......I'll show you a rare bird".I ignored him and ran away.A few days later ,as I was crossing over the rail tracks , the old man came up from behind and draped his arms around my shoulder.I tried to shrug him off,but he held me close and whispered,

Boltiboy.....he said,his eyes gleaming and brought out a big bar of chocolate. "Here,a beeeg chocolate, take it". I brushed him off.

"What,don't want to see the bird.??..........come..."

I squirmed and tried to free myself,but he tightened his grip and dragged me along. I was getting desperate but couldn't shout for help for fear of bringing shame on myself .Just then I felt him loosen grip and didn't wait to hear him out and ran a few feet and I turned back to see Darren facing up to the bastard.Even at that age,Darren was hard to scare and stood with both fists up, ready to throw a punch.The old man too raised an open palm and there was a standoff for a few minutes between them .Then ,what was happening there, surprised me. Darren started negotiating.

"How much did you tell him ...." Darren asked, pointing to me.."50paise?...NO..No...I want more... I want five rupees.".The old man raised a clubbed hand and asked him to fuck off and walked away.

Darren ran after him."How much do you have in hand now" ?,I heard him ask and then after a few words.

"Okay..okey.."

The man dipped into his trouser pocket and fished out a handful of coins and dropped it in Darren's palms.Darren came over, gave me the coins and asked me to go ahead and wait beyond the yard and went along with the impatient man and disappeared behind behind the stack of tar barrels.A minute or two later, I heard a triumphant whoop and saw Darren heading down my way full blast with the old man's khaki shorts clutched to the chest.

"Run man run,we'll teach that sonofabitch a lesson"... he said and ran ahead,waving the dirty trousers over his head as a victory flag and as we crested an embankment,I looked back and caught the old fucker emerge from behind the tar barrels, bare-assed,desperately yelling to get his trousers back.

We ran and Daren threw it down the slope. It was a thirty feet drop and a gang stood on the other side and booed the old bastard as he got down to retrieve his trousers.Two things happened then, one, he was blown to the world and it cured the oldman of his sickness and two, I was forever stuck with that name..Bolti.

Darren had heard him call me that and had gone to town with the story and pretty soon the whole school was calling me by that name. I was forever fighting those who called me that but as we grew and over the next few years ,it was forgotten and except for a few ,nobody remembered that name. Not Darren. He always told a different story and called me Bolti,not always ,but once in a while when he needed to get my goat. He had told the story to Radha, and I had to tell her the real one, but she had her cunning fun ,calling me Bolti. But I had liked it, she had a way of saying it, especially when we attained climax together. "Bolti..ummm .I can feel you coming like a tiger".

It was all so long ago.How does she know me now...Bolti? .That bolti? I wondered

"So, and what does your friend's mother do during the day ?" I asked,eager to know,but I didn't let it show.

After a half eaten dinner,he didn't like the food and I didn't want the thread to fade,so I had followed him to his room and hoped to get him talking.I was curious to know if Radha had shown any particular interest and asked him about me or whether I was mentioned in a passing conversation.Any specific references to me would be a pointer.It was I who had concluded that I was her daughter's biological father though Radha had not even shown a fleeting moment of recognition when we had crossed each other on the road.

My son was the clue to the answer, I could subtly probe deeper and find out whether after all these years she really remembered me, but my son wouldn't even look at me.

"mr rockkkk,.......want to wrestle on the terrace".I asked as if I was in a great mood for monkey business, like prancing .

He was busy...."go away,I'm busy".he said ,looking intently at the computer screen and furiously toggling the joy stick.At his age he had to be busy,pushing buttons on his play station and killing his own dad.I was getting a little too nervous and angry,but I held.

"Well,if you don't feel like wrestling, why don't we go upstairs and catch up on the stars." I wanted him to be an astronaut and thought a gentle introduction to the mysteries of the universe would kindle in him a desire for larger missions and had a telescope installed on the roof.It had remained largely untouched..

He didn't care and twisted his ears by reaching it from behind his back."What stars..........the sky is full of clouds" and screwed his face.I tried again while he adeptly sidestepped a six pointed atomic weapon and launched his vajraastra."boom..boom " "look dad,I've been waiting for three days to get this bastard".

I cuffed him.."what kind of language is that" ...I yanked off the controls and hauled him to the terrace.

"First....never use that kind of language in my presence....and two, if you want to play again, you better explain yourself."

"Dad, everybody says that....if they miss" I cut him off .

"I said ....what you meant about that lady knowing my name."

I had no inkling Radha had recognized me when she saw me.Today when my son said she knew my name,it set me thinking. If she did,she should have some reason to remember,because our relationship was so brief to so remember unless she had a reason to do so or so I thought.Now, did she ever reveal to her daughter the truth? Did she tell her child that I was her father?I was in deep thought when my son interrupted me ...

"She knows your other name.........

"I don't have any other name."

"What mama calls you somtimes"...... that dropped like a bombshell and I cringed,if Radha could recollect that, I should have been in her mind all along.Why?

Suchita had virtual antennas and it probed the air for words and ticks that signaled trouble and she always moved swiftly to head it off , neatly snipping whiffs in the bud before it had a chance to grow and become unmanageable monsters.

So,at the table when my younger son said that Radha knew my name, I tried to play it down , but Su's roving invisible sensors had picked it up and said sweetly,

"Yes muchi,muchi and how did she know that...did you tell her? When she addressed Markus,she used endearments that grated on one's ears..."muchi muchi"... I hissed under my breath

"No mama"...."shaedoesamuasu".. He always answered in monosyllables and mumbles, something which his mother instantly deciphered and understood and relaxed.

I cut in .."anybody will know my name by the way you mama yells it and besides that,it's plastered as a banner on the front wall." When I had ordered for a copper plate ,I asked for proper font size and the agent had arrived at the hour of death with a copper plate and my name the size of a hoarding and installed it with promises to replace that as soon as the smaller one was ready. He took his money and had disappeared while the board stood and announced my presence from a mile out.

My son ate in silence , but I knew something was unsaid and I had to move with trepidation. Suchita would blow her top if she found out that I had fathered a child , albeit long ,long ago,in the heat of an unstoppable moment of sheer sexual pleasure, where consequences of such actions were least contemplated.My wife would most probably walk out on me were she to learn the truth.

But I was way in too deep with my date with destiny. Radha had come back into my life, not so lightly so as to shrug it off, but with a daughter in tow ,mine, and mine only and her umblical connection extended to me that I wouldn't be able to severe it in any manner, nor could I ignore the fact any more or live without holding my daugher in my arms at least once........no a million times. Yes ,be her father in the truest sense and bond and bond until my yearning soul rested content at her acceptance of me as her father .

After the initial encounter, weeks passed before I saw her again and then on, most of my time was spend at places where she appeared at different times of the day, and now I wasn't too bothered about whether she noticed me or not and after about two weeks of tagging her, I hoped to god that she would have a divine revelation and recognise me as the father of her girl. I hoped and hoped.

Meanwhile I had also set a detective, a sleazy bastard, on their trail and learnt Radha was the mistress of a wealthy businessman and he owned the supermarket where I now had to compulsively shop; my daughter helped out there in the evenings after college. Radha had a son by this fat , swarthy pit-of-the-world and they lived there separately,in a house owned by this tycoon . Any other women would have barfed at the mass of flesh in human form but Radha was rumoured to have him by his balls, holding that and part of his wealth as a
proxy , managing the business at his supermarket and also standing in for some of his not so legal businesses. The man was generous to her and it helped her maintain a fairly good lifestyle, going by the house and the way she carried herself.Like she didn't need one more mister to look after her.

James bond briefly sketched these details ,skirting most of the big story to tell me with a knowing gleam in his eyes her daughter's name was Samhita .Samhita? I had to look up it's sanskrit meaning. On his undercover mission,he had caught me tagging her and inferred that my true interests lay in the young girl. He had even proposed that he could set her up for me and whispered to me with great conspiracy....

"...see ...just like her mother, one day she will go that way. You know that's how these things end, after the mother , you know.... the daughter...yes,yes these kind of things happen ... it's easy ,you buy a small apartment, he winked and said that with his help and with some expensive presents ... "set her up as,...".you know, wink, ...".I knew that sly wink and I could feel my blood boil and stopped him short...

" What did you say?.". He was taken aback by my change of tone and explained that kids her age were vulnerable and usually ended up in the same rut as their mothers.I didn't want to listen further as that thought had crossed my mind and it disturbed me to the extent of going on and owning up and taking charge of her life.I couldn't come to terms that a similar fate to her mother awaited her in life ,when I could easily buy her any kind of life she desired. My concern for her had almost made me go across and own up.

One day, I saw the mother and daughter at their supermarket,at the far end of the line, among a row of hanging undergarments and had hurried down in great haste,determined to confront Radha ,when they had turned and vanished into the sheer wall adjacent the the shelves. I looked around. No trace of them. I peeked over the door of a small enclosure to be spat on by hissing cat with mamaries half stuffed into a lacy bra. I withdrew and hurried down the aisle and in the meantime, regained my senses and decided to be discreet until that time I had a plan .

Later I also learnt Radha's son and my younger son, Markus, went went to the same school and rode the same bus and were friends, being from thereabouts the same block and boarded the bus for school at the corner on the main road. My son told me he had been to his house and that his mother was a very funny and nice person.Yes, Radha the laughing miracle, every moment seemed to tickle her.

So, and what does your friend's mother do during the day ? I asked

Discontent and restlessness warped my weary head and I could feel the twist that sent testing nueral impulses , compelling me to sit when I lay down , and when I sat , I had this urge to run ...oh my god .where is she ?. Oh my god.......for days I moped and fell ill, aggravated by an unseasonal flu, further aggravated by the mental distress I suffered ,the remorse of not being aware of a precious life so dear to me existing somewhere, probably forsaken to pitifully get by on crumbs of love , where I would have swathed her with my affection . My ability to reason impaired, tormented as I was by guilt for abandoning her when she needed me most , I wandered in a daze to to find her and catch a glimpse and let the weakness ebb, but no, she was nowhere and my regret persisted and I wanted to be her father all over again and buy her pretty dresses, take her to the park and let her happily ride my back.

I was possessed by her to the exclusion of all others and I would get disturbed and angry. Now, who was this bastard stand-in dad?. Son-of-a bitch. I could have wrung his neck,...... bastard ....., probably a two bit cheapo, wife beater ,preying on the kid and mother , manipulating them, using their helplessness to tie them down and enslave them in his wicked world.Questions niggled me from deep recesses of my mind on how she would have coped in this heartless world , scorned and spitefully teased when I didn't appear at her side after school for her to joyfully take my hand and go home. I am certain she would have cried and pined for me. Did she wake up and cry in the dark for me to make those frightful demons lurking in the dark go away? Wouldn't I have leapt at the slightest moan of discomfort and hugged her , held her close to my chest and reassured her, gently patting her fears to rest and watched as her breath evened out, her contentment when she fell into a deep slumber, safe within my arms and the warmth .? Now ,who the fuck are you.........Bastard , I am going to kill you, I'll wring your throat and squeeze the blood from your heart if you so much as go near my kid.... lecherous faggot.... I will kill you.

When I woke up, Su sat beside me on the bed wrestling with my arm . She was in a grey uniform, a name badge on her chest and unfamiliar square black spectacles framed her eyes. Madness!!.. I flexed my knee , sending her tumbling to the floor, the clamour of crashing vessel and shrieks opened the door and I saw another Su run in , horror and fear showing on her face as the nurse picked herself up and glared at me.

I was in bed and from my younger son I understood that I had temporarily lost it ,crying and shouting nonsense and was in a hospital for seven days now . Seems Su's mother in desperation had sent her personal witch to try exorcism and when it didn't work , they had me almost committed to the mental asylum, but Su had prevailed and, according to the resident doctor, my son , the psychiatrist had ordered medication for temporary madness.

The shrink had diagnosed my condition as probably related to shock ,consequent to loss of stardom and attention , the trauma of a sudden and absolute lack of an identity and occupation had severely impaired my ability to think normally and was about to hypnotize me and give me positive suggestions to get real when I had woken up and kneed the nurse in her broad seat

I gradually felt better.I found her again and I would hang around and hide behind pillars and bushes and watch her , her face, her smile, her not so innocent charm,yes... she had plenty of boy friends, it angered me, she had taken to her mother's loose ways. I would itch to go a cross and tell her some and give her a small hiding, if need be, to behave proper and not venture beyond rectitude and lady like conduct I expected . Then I would imagine her refrain, her entreaties to let her be,

"Oh papa. you are so old and unfashioned, all the girls have five boyfriends"

Truth . I had never felt the urge nor the immense need to be a father even when my first son was born and I had felt down right silly and bashful and did not rush home when the news reached me, preferring to put as many days between me and the prospect of facing my parents and shriveled old ladies inquiring how I felt being a father and going through uneasy moments during the naming ceremony, awkwardly posing for photographs with a forced smile, bawling kid and wife on side and siblings and cousins sensing my unease, mercilessly poking fun and throwing knowing looks and making me extremely uncomfortable with innuendos. I had felt naked and as if I had been caught in the act. Looking back, I wasn't particularly gung ho about such a trivial act of mating and making babies and didn't feel the onrush of manhood that many studs claimed to have experienced at the news of their first born. But here and now, so many years after the event, I felt an exultation of being one to a beautiful girl , whose smile stretched a wee bit more and flashed, forever ingraining that magic moment deep within my heart. I yearned to see it again and again that I would carry my racking soul to that super market to catch a glimpse of her. Until one day.

The scene looked an hospital ward and concern etched my wife's face. Though it was her house, I had brusquely ordered them off my couch to show I had some authority and besides I didn't want his dirty blood staining my couch and remain a grim reminder of the circumstances that may turn me a homeless hobo.

"Get the hell off my couch, run away ....go..go...go now", I thundered and they hastened off the couch to the dining table where Darren lay his head enacting his final minute on earth .

Ammanie had taken control, she was a nurse and round in shape being fat both side to side and front to back, her huge mammaries dropping heavily down and countered by an mighty behind and if she had sharpened teeth,she could have been straightaway cast in jurrasic park .But the resemblance ended there, she was an extremely likeable person and was in complete command when she was around and stood by cradling his bleeding head against her huge chest and ordered her kids to get her emergency kit. Radha stood on his other side ,visibly flustered, the incident had taken out the joy of reunion and he moaned his make believe trauma and flopped his head between her exquisite bosom as well, a little too deeply for the miserly cut he had received. The slight gash had pulled the tight scalp apart and blood spurted in disproportion to the wound, making it look bloodier than it was. My son's eyes welled up, Captain Brainless, his hero, sat between two gorgons, mortally beaten to pulp and he whispered with little hiccups to me..

"Uncle Darren might not survive the hemorrhaging , we have to find the right blood type for a massive infusion , or he'll slip into a coma from which he may never wake up....Ever". .. so I pointed to wilkie at the foot of the door and asked whether the dog's blood would do.

"Papa , be serious... he is not used to our conditions and he could catch tetanus". That was a welcome thought, nobody survived tetanus for more than twentyfour hours, a relatively manageable interval, surely the hospital should be able to take care of that.

"Cruel.....Why did she have to do that, I think she over-reacted ...Look at her now , as if she cared!" she whispered in rage.Suchita was on my side, she couldn't comprehend the viciousness of the women who seemed to complement her in several aspects.

Overreacted! Ha ha .. who cared? whoo haahah!!.. I would have given half a hand if she could have as much penetrated an inch into the skull, deleting his floppy memory and wiped out ancient images and instances stored in his useless brain for at least the time they spent with us in India. What harm could he do from France, he couldn't even email and he had two families to look after when he found the time from transmitting aids with his fucking lifestyle.

Being the man of the situation he was taking advantage, playing up his injury,writhing and accidentally brushing Radha's rump as Ammanie isolated the cut on his head with a surgical blade and deftly sewed the skin together to stanch the slight ooze and wrapped a bandage around his head and contended with her work, she gave him a pat on his back, peck on his face, bit her lower lip , released it slowly while nodding her head and complemented Radha for her sharp aim. Hearing that ,Darren said

"What do you know, either she marries me or I'm claiming damages... tulips, ask your husband to sell your house" and Radha giggled bringing back memories in a flood. How long ago was it, twenty years since then ? In the loo, on the throne and locked in silence, my thoughts regressed to those carefree bachelor days and the subsequent truth I had come to know a few months ago. On the day of our house warming, after we returned to India , my brother- in -law came in after some emergency shopping and said he had seen a young girl in the neighbourhood who was a spitting image of my sister,his wife. We joked about my dad's trysts and concluded that he would have been too old to father a girl so young and speculated I could have been the one who had sown the wild oats.

Much later I was to see the young girl and my heart skipped several beats and I palpitated like a running dog shedding heat. I was at the grocery store and she was there with a women whom I had known briefly and had sex when I was a bachelor. I do not know whether the woman, Radha, tulips to us, recalled me from the drug induced haze of those days, if she did , she passed by without any hint of recognition. But I did and gasped , stunned by the realisation Radha was probably the girl's mother and the pretty young girl was my daughter and a feeling of uncontainable longing hit me. Then on,it was a search.