Rani and Raja

A short story by
prathamesh @poetrybyprathamesh
Rani was getting fucked. Her eyes went to the clock, still 10
minutes to 11. She was getting bored and impatient. The guy
above her had lost any awareness of her. It felt like he was just
masturbating himself using her. She laid on her back in her
cubicle, dimly lit with red and blue lights. They told her it was to
set the mood but she knew it was just to hide the shame of the
visitors. The dim lights felt almost hypnotic to her accompanied by
the whirring of the table fan near her. She thought of increasing...
The guy above her suddenly went rigid and grunted the name of
his almighty. She screamed a fake moan to accompany his
orgasm. She laughed inwardly at the way people screamed their
god's name while doing something they thought as sinful.
She saw that the demons in his eyes quelled a little bit. He had
come into her cubicle as a monster trying to conquer her, like
every man in her life, who wanted to conquer her, own her or
mount her. Now there was the no monster left just a regular man
filled with guilt and shame.
He smelled of tobacco and cheap alcohol, most men in her life
did, most women too. She had lived her entire life around this
smell but never got used to it.
Zipping up his pants, the man left, avoiding eye contact with her.
Rani meanwhile stared at him unabashedly. Her eyes made him
run out of there even faster, he almost stumbled but somehow got
out of the sliding door. In her cubicle, wolves came for a bite and
shameful sheep left when they were done.
The hour hand of her clock was at 11. Now, It was time for him to
come. Her favorite customer. Her Raja. She teased him with the
name in the beginning when they first met, "Raja".
But as she spent more time with him, she fell for him and now she
really thought of him as her Raja. She was a Rani who belonged
to her Raja. She loved him not because of the sex but because of
the morning conversations they had when they rose up from their
night sessions, together. Talking to him over cigarettes and tea in
the morning was a weekly luxury in her hellhole of a life. He told
her of different things about the world, things he was passionate
about, things going on in the country, politics, science. Even
though she understood almost none of it she liked listening to him
talk with his vibrant eyes and passionate hands. Sipping Lalu
Bhaiyya's tea and her cigarette as she watched him talk in a
happy voice. He was always in a good mood in the morning. Most
men would be if they spent an entire night with her. However, his
morning mood was different, his morning mood was such that it
even cheered her up too.
He always paid for her entire night. She was expensive, she was
the prettiest and best in the business, but he never minded the
cost. He had a lot of money, she judged him because of the way
his clothes felt expensive to touch, his laptop, the many cards in
his wallet, and his 3 different car keys. She had an eye for such
things. A habit she learned in her trade.
She took in a hard-hitting puff of the cigarette, that her last visitor
had left behind. She felt dizzy and excited at the same time. It
was Saturday night and this was the happiest night of her week.
The night spent with him. She hoped he felt similar too. She
wished she could cook him breakfast in the morning. But Didi
would go berserk if she did anything like this.
A brief fantasy rose in her, a fantasy where she cooked in a blue
saree in his house. Her favorite color, blue, and her favorite saree,
making Poha, her favorite food for her favorite man, Raja. She
stopped herself. Such dreams were dangerous and such dreams
were not for the likes of her.
She was brought out her thoughts by the noise of the door, the
door slide open and in came her Raja, she quickly crushed her
cigarette, she didn't want to smell like tobacco to him. Anyway,
they would enjoy cigarettes later. She was excited to see him.
Even in the dim light, she thought she would light up the room
with her joy. His eyes were exactly opposite to her mood at the
moment, drunken, hopeless, void of life.
Not to worry, she thought. She would change that. That was the
main reason he came to her. He didn't even acknowledge her.
Today was one of his bad days.
He always said hello to her on his good days. She quickly applied
a dash of perfume to her neck and waist. She was now fresh and
ready as one could be in her profession.
Raja had already started removing his clothes. She was naked as
the day she was born. She forgot that sometimes, she felt normal
in her bare skin. Other girls had to cover their bodies with clothes
to hide. She was the most beautiful when she was naked, even
her visitors agreed. Clothes were a hassle for her, a cover over
something beautiful. Raja was naked now. He had a good body,
better than most of her visitors. She enjoyed his body. She never
knew what he felt of her body. He only complimented her face and
eyes. Such habits added to his innocent charm, one of the
reasons she loved him.
Raja came near her and she switched off the lights, putting her
cubicle in complete darkness. In the darkness she felt him
hugging her from the side, putting his head sideways on her
chest. She could smell the expensive shampoo in his hair. She
started caressing his hair and face. He just hugged her even more
tightly.
And slowly she started to hum, his hands loosened a bit. But they
were still tense. And then she began, she began to sing "la la la
la... la la la la... la la la la... la la la la"
She could feel her chest getting wet now. He had begun crying.
She began singing him a Bengali Lullaby. She wasn't Bengali, she
had no idea what she was, but the whore who raised her used to
sing her this lullaby, the closest thing she had to a mother growing
up.
"la la la la... la la la la... la la la la... la la la la" Raja started
sobbing. "la la la la... la la la la... la la la la... la la la la"
Among the sounds of sex in the whorehouse, the sobs and the
song felt eerie and beautiful at the same time.
"la la la la... la la la la... la la la la... la la la la"
There she lay with a sobbing man, the love of her life, Raja,
whose true name she didn't even know.
-prathamesh