Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows

‘Do any of our new members have a story to share?’ Nikki asked, lest the discussion digress any further. This was the other risk of adding more members. In the warm-up to telling stories, the women often traded gossip: what colour lengha a friend’s granddaughter wore to her wedding reception; what time the bus to the market arrived on Sunday when there were disruptions; who had recently misplaced her sandals at the temple and allegedly taken another pair, starting a chain of thefts by people who had to replace their footwear.

‘Nikki, wait a while, nah? We are just getting to know our new friends,’ Arvinder said. ‘I heard that Kulwinder is away in India. This means we can stay in the building longer.’

‘And make more noise,’ Sheena said.

‘I don’t think we should take Kulwinder’s absence as a reason to relax,’ Nikki said, although she felt much less tense knowing that the office down the hall was empty for the next four weeks. ‘I’d rather not stay till late. I have to catch the train home.’

‘You take the train home at night by yourself? Where do you live?’ Bibi asked.

‘Shepherd’s Bush,’ Nikki said.

‘Where’s your house? Near the market or far from it?’

‘It’s not in Southall. I live in West London,’ Nikki said.

‘It’s safe to walk around here at night,’ Bibi said. ‘I do it all the time.’

‘You can do it because you’re an old lady,’ Tanveer said. ‘What would a man hiding in the bushes want from you?’

‘I happen to have a lot of pension money,’ said Bibi with a huff.

‘Tanveer means that you wouldn’t be assaulted,’ Sheena said. ‘Younger women have to worry about that.’

‘Is that what happened to Karina Kaur?’ Tanveer asked. ‘I saw the advertisement for the new television programme about the anniversary of her murder. It happened a few years before we moved here from India. Honestly, if I’d known that this could happen to one of our girls in London, we might not have come here at all.’

At the mention of Karina’s name, a noticeable hush fell over the room. A moment passed in which everybody seemed to be thinking and Nikki sensed her outsider status more acutely than usual. She cast her gaze over the group and noticed a visible tension on Sheena’s face.

‘I remember that. People said she was walking around alone in the park. Meeting her boyfriend,’ Arvinder said.

‘And that’s punishable by murder is it?’ Sheena snapped.

Arvinder looked taken aback. ‘Sheena, you know I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘I know,’ Sheena said quietly. She blinked and then gave Arvinder a small nod. ‘Sorry.’

Nikki had never thought Sheena could become so unnerved. She did a quick calculation. From what she could remember of the case (not that her mother would let her forget it), Karina and Sheena would probably have been around the same age when it happened. She wondered if they had known each other.

‘Don’t be scared by these stories, Nikki. Southall is very safe,’ Gaganjeet said brightly. ‘Why don’t you live here? It’s full of our people.’

‘Nikki’s a proper modern girl,’ Arvinder informed the others. ‘You just can’t tell because she’s dressed like a good Punjabi girl today. Nikki, you should wear some bangles.’

Nikki kept an eye on Sheena, who appeared lost in thought. Her fingers fluttered at her collarbone where she touched her necklace as if making sure it was still there. Nikki took a step toward her and was about to ask if she was okay when Gaganjeet called her name.

‘Nikki, are you looking for a husband? I might have someone for you.’

‘Nope,’ Nikki said.

‘Why not? I haven’t even told you about him yet.’ Gaganjeet looked hurt. She blew her nose into a crumpled tissue. ‘He has property,’ she added.

‘Does anyone have a story?’ Nikki asked, stepping back to the front of the room. ‘We’re running out of time.’

‘Okay, okay, no need to be impatient,’ Arvinder said. ‘She’s still very bossy,’ she muttered to the others.

‘I’ve come with a story,’ Tanveer said. She hesitated. ‘It’s a bit unusual though.’

‘Believe me, every story told in this class is unusual,’ Preetam said.

‘I mean, this story has an element of something quite different,’ Tanveer said. ‘Quite shocking.’

‘Well, I could not possibly be more shocked than I was last lesson,’ Preetam said. She threw a dirty look at Arvinder.

‘Tell us your story, Tanveer,’ Nikki said before there was a quarrel.

‘All right,’ Tanveer said.





Meera and Rita

Everything had a designated place in Meera’s home because she liked order. She and her husband even had a schedule for their nighttime intimacies. They did it on Tuesdays and Fridays, right before going to bed. The routine never changed. She would take off her clothes and lie down on the bed, staring up and counting the tiny pockmarks on the ceiling while her husband thrust into her, one hand gripping her right breast. There were no surprises, although Meera always made sure to say, ‘Oh! Oh!’ as if opening a present she didn’t really like. After his final grunt, her husband would roll off her and instantly fall asleep. It was this part of their ritual that filled Meera with mixed emotions – relief that it was over and disgust that he did not clean himself afterwards. Wednesdays and Saturdays were for washing the sheets.

The detergent Meera used for this specific task was a special floral-scented powder. She kept it on the top shelf, above the regular detergent that was used for washing the clothes of her husband, their sons and her husband’s younger brother, who also lived in this house. When the younger brother announced that he had fallen in love with a girl named Rita, and that he was going to marry her, Meera’s first thought was, ‘Where will Rita’s place be?’ Everything would have to be rearranged to fit this new bride into their lives. She shared this concern with her husband, who reminded her that she was the elder. ‘You’re allowed to give orders to her.’ He said this generously, as if, after years of bossing her around, he was finally giving her the privilege of doing the same to somebody else.

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