Monday, March 7, 2011

Stories - Kasthuri Bhai

Kasthuri Bhai

The door bell rang as I expected it to at half past eleven. I lay there on my bed unsurprised by the new entrant into my overcrowded room. The day was almost half done but my mundane chores remained undone. She was preparing for the next thirty minutes of fun. At least that’s what she called it.

While her concoction was being warmed she changed from her vivid attire to a rather uninteresting costume. In the meantime I reluctantly undressed myself baring my over sized engraved self to the chilly breeze that managed to gush through the door that let her in. She banged the door shut and barged towards me with her potion.

Drawing her hands together she bowed before me. For any other person the whole procedure might be relaxing but for me it was an ordeal. She made it a point to plait all my muscles and weave my nerves. Her hands caressed every single atom I was composed of. She proved her years of practice on my flesh. I was happy when she splashed boiling water on me because that concluded the session of torture for the day.

And then it was his turn. She effortlessly stripped and drenched him in the still warm liquid she prepared. He did enjoy it more than I did. He was surprised at how she knew all his weak spots. She did not heed when he protested on her handling certain areas even I didn’t dare to explore. I hated her for that. I know he hated her too. But we couldn’t question her expertise.

Wrapped in fresh sanitized clothes both of us lay in bed again while she changed her outfit. She resumed her story from where she had left it the previous day. My attention span ran to exactly two minutes after which my eyelids found reasons to shut. He was having his usual drink after which I was sure he would have his siesta. He was least interested in listening to her animated tale. She sipped her hot drink and told me how satisfying her job was for her and for her regulars. I gave her a faint smirk and nodded in agreement.

She neatly packed up all her mixtures, cleaned the stained utensils, positioned them on the sun sprayed window sill and gave me the most cheerful smile for the day. She had made some not so spicy brinjal curry, dhal and rice at six in the morning before she left to attend to her first prey. Her bedridden husband will be waiting for her. We were her last clients before lunch. She will have four more victims after three.

Innumerable wet and dry nappies, three musical rattles, two soggy teddy bear stamped rubber sheets, one blue umbrella mosquito net with two holes, few milk stained towels, a couple of barely read books, blue bed sheets and clothes formed my environment for the past ten days. I wished I could doze off amidst all the clutter. But I had ‘feed time’ on the log sheet prepared and he was having his fill.

“All your baby fat will vanish in twenty days kannamma and raja will grow into a strong boy. I will be back tomorrow.” said Kasthuri Bhai our local masseur. She opened the door again. This time letting in the aroma of a sumptuous protein and calcium rich lunch that would wake any drowsy lactating mother in the neighborhood. And for the first time my face bore a genuine smile.

PS. My first short story.Usha has been my inspiration. She is my guru and is doing the painful task of editing my stories.


  1. Very nice. :) Thanks for sending me the link.

  2. Nice story....i can visualize every word of it..
    it reminds me of my childhood days when my mother used to do such things...:)