Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows

‘Do you still remember it?’ asked Sheena.

‘Of course.’ She drew a breath and closed her eyes again. ‘My beloved. Your body is an entire galaxy; your moles and dimples a sprinkling of stars. I am just a weary desert traveller, my lips parched and searching for refreshment. Each time I am ready to give up, I look up, and there you lay in the stretch of midnight skies. Your hair billows around you and your hands fall away from your chest, revealing your pale, round breasts. At their tips, your nipples point to greet my puckered lips. I kiss them tenderly and feel the shudder of sensation rock through your body, your world. Between your legs, a flower is moistening itself, its lips plump with anticipation. Your body is an entire galaxy of its own accord. I explore you with my lips, grateful for my thirst to be quenched and when I reach your forbidden garden, my thirst becomes your hunger. Your long legs are draped around my neck, your hips thrusting against my mouth. My lips become wet with your dew. I press them inside you and feel the throb of your blood pulsing into your most intimate places. How grateful I am to have my lips against yours in this way, to connect these blushing parts of ourselves together.’

A serene smile gave Gurlal’s face an ethereal quality. She dipped her body forward into a modest bow.

‘Tell us what it was like when you two finally got together. Just as good?’ Preetam asked.

‘Oh, I bet it was. If his hands could spell out such beautiful poetry, imagine what they could do in the bedroom,’ said Sheena.

‘It was very good,’ Gurlal said. ‘He wrote a poem for every single night that we were together. I can recite every single one.’

The impossibility of this claim bothered none of the ladies. The room was filled with a hallowed silence.

‘Go on then. Tell us another one,’ Arvinder urged. Gurlal opened her eyes and was about to respond when suddenly a visible jolt shot through her. The room filled with a quick rustling. Nikki looked up and felt a stab in her gut from the sight.

Kulwinder Kaur was standing in the doorway, her mouth agape.

Nikki crossed to the front of the room with a smile plastered on her face. She could not know how much Kulwinder had heard but excuses were already forming in her mind. Maybe she could convince Kulwinder that the women had been discussing alternate endings to an Indian drama.

‘I want to see you outside now,’ Kulwinder hissed. Nikki followed her into the corridor.

‘You’ve just dropped in at an unfortunate time,’ Nikki began. Kulwinder held up her hand to silence Nikki.

‘How long has this been going on?’ Kulwinder asked.

Nikki looked at her feet. She was about to mumble a reply when Kulwinder spoke again. ‘To think that I trusted you to lead these women into literacy. All this time you were filling their heads with filth.’

Nikki’s head jerked up and she stared Kulwinder straight in the eyes. ‘The women wanted this.’

‘Rubbish,’ Kulwinder retorted. ‘You’ve been corrupting this community right under my nose this whole time.’

‘I haven’t! Look – many of these women’s husbands don’t know they’re here. Please don’t tell them.’

‘I have better things to do with my time than go around poking my nose into other people’s lives,’ Kulwinder said. She looked past Nikki into the room full of women. ‘How did you get all of these new women to sign up? What did you tell them?’

‘I didn’t have to tell them anything,’ Nikki replied. ‘Word spreads quickly in this community, as you well know. The women wanted a place to express themselves.’

‘Express themselves?’ Kulwinder retorted, showing Nikki just what she thought of her response. She pushed her way into the room, her palms open in a silent but clear instruction: give them to me. The few women who had written stories reluctantly handed them over. The majority could give her nothing. The eldest women reacted admirably. They stared at Kulwinder, their lips tightly pressed together as if to protect their stories from being stolen right from their minds. As Kulwinder’s raid continued, women scooted out of the way to create a path for her. She reached the desk.

‘Where are the rest?’ she asked.

‘In my bag,’ Nikki croaked. Her satchel was closed. She could not imagine any other circumstance where she would allow somebody to open her bag and search it as Kulwinder was doing now, her thick fingers extracting the binder like it was a diseased organ. Kulwinder strode out the door and down the hallway, the binder held tightly against her chest. Nikki went after her.

‘Bibi Kulwinder, please. Just let us explain.’

Kulwinder stopped walking. ‘There’s nothing to explain,’ she said.

‘So much work has gone into those stories,’ Nikki said. ‘You have no idea. Please give them back to us.’ She had thought of scanning the pages into a back-up copy but she hadn’t got around to it. ‘You weren’t even supposed to be back yet,’ she accused.

‘And you thought that as long as I was away, you’d make a mockery of my English classes? Thank goodness I had the sense to check up on you. You’ve never taken this job seriously.’

‘You advertised for an instructor for a storytelling class. That’s what I wanted to do, and that’s what the women wanted out of these sessions as well.’

‘Don’t you dare blame me for this,’ Kulwinder said, pointing her finger inches away from Nikki’s face. ‘I should have known you were going around recruiting women to sabotage my classes and turn them into something corrupt.’

‘The women came on their own,’ Nikki said.

‘You were knocking on doors on my street just before I left for India. I saw you.’

‘I only visited Tarampal because I wanted to—’

‘You went to Mrs Shah’s house before that. I saw you from my window.’

‘I got the address wrong,’ Nikki said. ‘Honestly. I wasn’t going around—’

‘That’s enough. You are lying to my face now.’

‘Well, it’s true. You can ask Mrs Shah if you want. The form said 18 Ansell Road but Tarampal lived on 16 Ansell Road. She had written 16 but the ink was smudged and it looked like 18 …’ Nikki paused. It didn’t sound like the truth. Tarampal did not know how to write her own address.

‘I don’t want to hear any more excuses. You’ve gambled with my reputation. Do you know what people will say once this gets out? Do you realize how hard it was to ask the men of the Board to fund these classes?’ Kulwinder asked.

Nikki nodded absent-mindedly. Her mind was still on the form. She recalled Jason’s story about his mother scrubbing the ink stains from his left hand.

‘And with so many women joining the classes, did you really think you could hide this from me? How long were you going to—?’

‘Bibi Kulwinder,’ Nikki said.

‘Don’t interrupt me.’

‘Bibi Kulwinder, this is important,’ Nikki said. The urgency in her voice must have struck Kulwinder. For a moment, she looked concerned.

‘What is it?’ she asked irritably.

‘Your son-in-law, Jaggi. Was he left-handed?’

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