Close Too Close (15 page)

As they neared the cave where Somavat’s clothes were hidden, Sumedha realized the cow would separate them forever. She would make them eligible for wives; with wives would come separate kitchens, separate homes, separate children and separate responsibilities. The temple would still be the same, but everything would change. He felt his skin being torn from his flesh, his breath being separated from his chest. The pain, this deep intense pain of separation, was unbearable. He walked around the cow, to get closer to friend and hugged him from behind, resting his head on his friend’s shoulder. Cheek met cheek, a deep longing expressed itself.

This was not the needy hug that Somavat experienced many a time as they slept under the same blanket on winter nights. This was not the mischievous hug he had experienced in the city when Sumedha pretended to be his husband. This was different, more anxious, more demanding, a child afraid of losing his mother.

Somavat felt Sumedha’s heart pounding. Why was his friend so scared? The ordeal was over; the cow had been obtained. Somavat reached out and caressed his friend’s face ever so gently, his affection pouring out. He, too, was sensing the end of childhood. No longer students, they would be householders, husbands and fathers. Is this the heartache people describe when it is time to let go? Was this what was bothering Sumedha?

Somavat turned around and cupped Sumedha’s face in his hands. Were those tears? Yes, his friend was crying. The realisation of the end. He hugged Sumedha tight and let his tears roll down too. Years of emotions poured out. They clung to each other, afraid of the world beyond. Between them was the only security they ever knew.

How does a wife comfort a frightened husband? Does she hold him tight between her breasts? Does she become mother for a moment, gently nudge him to take charge, feel powerful? Or does she become a flirtatious nymph and wipe away fear with a giggle? Somavat decided to become the nymph. No, a clown who mimics nymphs. That would make Sumedha smile once agin. He sniffed away his tears, undid the knot of his sari, twirled around with an exagerrated giggle and let the red sari unravel. ‘What will people say!’ he said, fluttering his eyelashes in mock shame, and ran into the cave in his loincloth, arms crossed across his chest, his sari trailing behind him. Sumedha couldn’t help but smile, Somavat was so funny.

It was then he noticed Somavat’s skin, bronze in the sunlight, his painted palms and soles like the flowers of the palasha tree being blown by the wind. And something changed.

A company of parrots burst forth from a jamun tree, the sound of their feathers like the exhalation of Kama’s breath after he shoots a love-dart. Sumedha felt a stirring that he had never felt before. He noticed the muscles of his friend’s thighs and calves as he ran into cave. He had this intense desire to touch his friend, feel the firmness of his body, smell his skin, run his hands down his back. What was this feeling? Why was it so strong?

Sumedha entered the cave. It was dark and cold. Somavat sat on the rock under which lay his clothes, removing his earrings. Sumedha could not explain the excitement in his heart. He had this urge to hold his friend in his arms. Blood rushed up his neck. His ears felt warm. What was this feeling? This impatient urge?

The cow sensed the change of mood. She stood at the mouth of the cave, watching the loveplay unfold.

Sumedha walked up to Somavat and held out his hand. ‘What?’ asked Somavat. Sumedha continued to hold out his hand. Somavat accepted it and allowed himself to be hauled up into his friend’s arms. Sumedha sighed, embracing Somavat tightly.

What was going on? Somavat decided to indulge his friend.

Sumedha caressed Somavat’s arms slowly, gently kneading his muscles at times. The smell of turmeric filled his nose. He rested his head on his friend’s shoulder and then, very slowly, very deliberately, let his tongue trace the side of Somavat’s neck. The taste of sweat and flowers filled his mouth. They fuelled his appetite.

What was this? What was Sumedha doing? It felt so good. Somavat gasped, and waited impatiently to feel Sumedha’s tongue on his skin once more.

There it was, a wet line along his shoulders. There it was, a soft bite. Now, a firm bite. This felt so good.

The cow lowed. Somavat stopped. The friends turned to look. Outside a pair of peacocks were dancing, no peahen in sight. Both chuckled, sounding almost relieved. They were alone. It was all okay.

Sumedha returned to licking Somavat’s neck. He felt like a bee having its first taste of nectar. The feeling was heady. He kept moving his hands up and down Somavat’s arm. The bangles were an obstacle. ‘Take these off,’ he rasped, his tongue now probing into Somavat’s ears.

‘What?’ Somavat asked.

‘This,’ said Sumedha pulling off the bangles. ‘And this,’ he said, yanking off the armlet. ‘And this,’ he said, tearing the garlands.

Somavat did not resist. He had never seen Sumedha so forceful, so demanding, so impatient. He felt . . . wanted. Alive. Sumedha bent down to trace his lips with his tongue. Somavat parted his lips like the petals of a lotus unfolding when touched by the first light of dawn.

Outside, rain clouds rumbled. Drops of rain hit the ground. The kiss was firm, warm, affectionate. Somavat remained still as Sumedha, now emboldended, showered his face with kisses. The cold rocks of the cave suddenly felt warm and wonderful. Streams of pleasure burst forth from every corner and created a deluge of ecstasy. For once, Somavat did not know what to do.

Sumedha ingored the doubts that rose like demons in the fringes of his mind. He trusted this intense inexplicable urge. He slipped his fingers under the fabric of Somavat’s loincloth. He felt the throbbing of Somavat’s manhood. Very gently, and patiently he untied the knot. The organ curled out eagerly, delightfully stiff and joyful. Sumedha kissed his friend’s chin, his neck, his chest; he lowered himself, drawing his tongue down to the navel, to the nakedness below.

Whirlpools of sensations spread out from Somavat’s groin, spreading along the sides, shooting up right into his heart. He felt a happiness he had never known before. Sumedha felt completeness in his mouth. The taste of his friend’s body covered his tongue. He felt the sweetness of mango down his throat. The rain outside was not enough to quench his thirst. He felt parched, giddy like a greedy bumblebee.

Finally, Somavat moved his hips in response, ready to grab some of the pleasure that he was being given. He ran his fingers through his friend’s hair. He felt his hunger, and enjoyed being consumed. Sumedha’s passion had enveloped Somavat’s being. He stopped Sumedha. If this continued, he would burst. This moment would pass. It had to be streched. More importantly, this display of love, this joy, had to be reciprocated.

Lowering himself, Somavat kissed Sumedha, lip on lip, peck for peck, like doves around grain. The two friends explored every corner of each other’s mouth, feeling each other’s breath, hungry for the sweetness of lips and tongues and teeth, puckering and probing, sometimes ferociously, sometimes tenderly, letting love flow from one to the other. This was like a new game in the secret playground of Aranyani. It was full of delight.

Water poured rhythmically from the heavens, bringing music to the mood. The wetness from the sky made the green trees merge with the red earth. Sumedha and Somavat, dry and intimate in their cave, looked like Manu and Shatrupa, the only survivors of the deluge. The last couple. The first couple.