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   Swagato

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   *********************************Unforgettable times :
Part-2****************************************

   I can hardly consider myself to be a singer in true sense.  I love
singing since my early childhood and took part in various cultural
programmes of my school, but never seriously continued any formal training.
I did only for a brief period, but during adolescence, when my voice
changed, I was forced to discontinue.  By the time my voice stabilised to
an adult one, academic pressures came on the way and I could never pursue
any musical diploma.  Before Keka-di's mentioning of "singer's voice" in
me, I didn't ever bother to think if I really have one.

   "Keka-di, I am only good at humming - nothing beyond that." I told her
with a sense of modesty.

   "Okay.  I'll try to get a feel of your humming in the next couple of
days." she told me with a naughty smile.

   "Usually those are only in the bathroom..." was my answer.  I was trying
to indicate that she won't get any access there.

   It was time to depart.  The girls had to proceed to the hostel as they
were putting up with Sonali.  Chandan had to go home and myself and Abhirup
had to proceed to his Dadu-Dida's house.

   "See you in the morning then ?  " I reminded Keka-di.

   "Aschhen bolle bolbo asbonaa." was her short cryptic reply.

   I was so long using a formal way of addressing her.  Normally, we do
that way when we talk to someone elder or persons with brief acquaintances,
but she wanted me to talk with her in a more informal way.

   "Taahale boli esho" I said, quickly narrowing the level of formality. 
It surely helped in feeling more intimate, though we were hardly intimate
till then.

   Locating the route back home wasn't a problem.  There was moonlight all
around to guide us .  Moonlight in that evening was more powerful than any
floodlight.

   *****

   After the supper, Abhirup and I came to our room.  I was thinking of the
evening I spent with Keka-di.  Her looks, her figure, her smile - all so
attractive.  My heart was pumping rapidly as I thought about her.  "Am I in
love ?" I asked myself.  At the very next moment, my inner self tried to
caution me, "Swagato, accept the reality.  Come to your senses.  You can
not be in love with her, she is elder to you by at least three years and
the society will never legitimise your love." But how do I avoid thinking
of her ?  At least not during this lovely night.

   Isn't she too thinking of me ?  "Forget it, "I said to myself.  Who am I
afterall ?  She must be in love with someone already, I guessed.  But then,
why did she take interests in my singing abilities ?  Maybe, it was just a
casual talk and I was foolish enough to attach any special importance to
it.

   "Ei Abhirup !  Gaaner kotha-ta keno bollo re ?" I was keen to share my
inner debate with my dear friend.

   "Must have sensed your singing abilities from your voice, even though
you didn't admit it directly ."

   Abhirup paused slightly and continued, "She was next to you with
Baitalik."

   "Hmmm..." I was finding it difficult to share anything with Abhirup, as
my heart was beating like a drum a sound that I could hear myself very
clearly.

   "You liked her ?  Didn't you ?" Abhirup was trying to dig out my inner
feelings.

   "Forget it.  Tell me how you liked Papiya ...Nice ?  Isn't she ?" I just
tried to put the ball on the other court.

   "Oh, Papiya ?  I don't think I have any reason to feel anything special.
But, Swagato, something is going on within you."

   This time, I couldn't deny my inner turmoil before my friend.  "Think of
the barriers Abhirup - she is elder to me.. .."

   "Swagato, love may not accept these reasons.  You are in love, my
friend."

   "Naa naa - tui chup kor to !" I hurriedly terminated the topic.

   Abhirup was tired.  So was I.  Both of us woke up so early in the
morning.  Abhirup fell asleep soon.  Normally, I too would have by then,
but I couldn't.  I was again thinking about Keka-di.  Tomorrow is holi. 
Won't I play smearing of colours with her ?  I must.  How am I going to
touch her for the first time tomorrow ?  The very imagination of it brought
a different feeling in me.  So long it was only a feeling of love and now,
I got an erotic sensation.  I tried to imagine myself touching Keka-di,
applying abeer (coloured powders) on her face, her hair, her neck.  My male
organ wasn't remaining under my control any more.  It was steadily growing
with every details of my imagination of her body and my touch.  And since,
everything was just an imagination, at least for that night, there was no
barrier in bringing my imaginary

   palm, coloured with red powders, further down on her body.  My manhood
grew to a size, which wasn't known to me ever before.

   I was finding it difficult to sleep.  Fragrance of Spring flowers which
bloom during the night time, was sweeping across the room.  It smelled like
some sweet perfume sprayed on her body.  I couldn't keep aside my feelings
of love.  I wanted to live with it for the rest of the night.

   Abhirup was fast asleep.  We had switched off the lights long time back.
The moonlight was illuminating a portion of the room and there was hardly
any darkness.  I looked at the desk in the corner and on top of it, there
was a bookshelf.  It contained a collection of some books on paintings. 
Presumably, all these belong to Abhirup's Dadu.  Honestly, I am completely
ignorant about paintings, but just took one of those books if that could
help me to sleep.

   The book had a collection of Roman paintings, most of which were very
much erotic in nature.  The one in which I stumbled upon was the painting
of a nude female lying down, hiding her pubic area with her hands.

   I remember that during my early adolescence, I got turned on by a
similar nude painting that appeared in "Reader's Digest" magazine.  There
was a hidden place in my drawer, where I used to keep that particular issue
of "Readers Digest" and look at it secretly, whenever I wished.  Sexual
tensions were already running high in me and this particular nude painting
excited me further, as I imagined a striking resemblance with Keka-di's
face.

   I was eager to get a detailed look at the painting.  The diffused
moonlight in the room was perhaps a bit too insufficient for that.  I
didn't feel like switching on the light, lest it disturbs Abhirup's sleep.
I rather opted for a more direct moonlight and walked out of the room to
the adjacent balcony, from where I had looked at the rural beauty earlier
in the day.

   I sat down on the floor of the balcony with the page opened on my lap.
It was clearly visible now in the direct moonlight.  From a distance, I
could hear a Tagore song being played by someone on the gramophone record :

   "Tomaar aroopa moorthi khaani--- Phaalgunero aalote basaai aani, aroopa
moorthi khaani-- Bnaashori baajaai lalita basante, sudooro digante--
Bnaashori baajaai lalita basante, sudooro digante."

   With the painting still lying open on my lap, these wordings were quite
appropriate for me at that moment.



   I was imagining Keka-di with her totality, fantasizing an intimacy and
closeness with her body.  I imagined my hard prick making entry into
something soft and wet of hers, although the real feeling of softness and
wetness was unknown me.  With the rhythm of the song fading away, I
imagined yet another rhythm - a rhythm that is the origin of any new life
creation on this globe.  Now I couldn't bear my hardness any more.  I
rushed to the bathroom and used my hands, emulating the in and out
movements within Keka-di, in imagination.  All the hot, white, thick fluid
within me gushed out, more than ever before.  I started humming the tune
within me:

   "Aami tomaaro sange bnedhechhi aamaaro praan, surero bnaadhone Tumi
jaano nai"

   To tell my lover -"you don't know that I am in love with you."

   I came back to the room.  Abhirup's radium illuminated wristwatch dial
showed 2:30 PM in the night.  I lay down beside Abhirup, still thinking of
Keka-di.  I don't know when I finally slept.

   **************

   I couldn't sleep for long.  The room where we stayed had its windows on
the eastern side and through that, the early morning sun made its way in.
The erotic thoughts of last night was still having its effects on me.  I
thought of of having another round of ........, but on second thoughts, I
decided to keep it for later, maybe with some added imaginations and
fantasies.

   The cultural event associated with the beginning of Vasantotsav starts
early in the morning.  I finished my morning rituals quite early and put on
a much worn, old set of pajama and kurta, since the colours of holi would
spoil my dresses anyway.  I then called Abhirup, who was still enjoying his
sleep.  Chandan came to us on time and took us to Amrakunja, a grove of
mango trees, where the event was to take place.

   By the time we reached there, streams of humanity had already assembled
there.  More people must have flocked in to Shantiniketan since last
evening and it was impossible to watch anything from the position which we
got.  Chandan being a local boy, then managed to get a better position for
us.  Just within a day, I felt Shantiniketan had lost its peaceful
surroundings, as the visitors were making noise in their own way.  Sonali,
Papiya and Keka-di too were supposed to assemble there, but in this vast
ocean of humanity, it was impossible to locate where they were.

   Dressed in clothes dyed yellow specially for the festival, girls and
boys, young men and women came in a procession, singing and dancing,
flowers streaming about them, their bare feet raising small clouds of red
dust on the gravel path, leading them into amrakunja.

   "O re grihabaasee, khol dwaar khol laaglo je dol sthale jale banatale
laaglo je dol dwaar khol, dwaar khol"

   I knew this song, one of the best depictions of the festival of colours
since my childhood, but on this morning, everything seemed to mean
differently, and I had never quite seen the spontaneity in dance as I saw
it then.  Between their paces, the dancers scattered handfuls of the
"abeer" (colour powder) all around, inviting all to join them.  It was
simply fabulous.  A brief cultural event followed this colourful start.

   Holi in Shantiniketan is much different from the holi in rest of India.
People don't start applying colours on each other, till the cultural
programme in Amrakuja is over.  Another characteristic, which I really
liked was the use of dry "abeer" only, unlike other parts of India, where
people use water abundantly.  In those days, we didn't have the nasty
sticky colours of today, which irritates the skin and gives one the
appearance of a joker.

   Three of us walked back to Abhirup's grandparents' house.  The three
girls had arrived there, a few minutes ahead of us.  I could see Keka-di
from the gate, as all of them were sitting on the open space in front.  The
moment I looked at Keka-di's eyes, the drum-beating of my heart reappeared.
I felt like rushing to her , turn her lovely face red with colours, but had
to realize the constraints of reality.

   "Where were you guys ?  We couldn't locate you out there." asked Sonali.

   "Janasamudre haariye giyechhilam."(Lost in humanity) was Abhirup's
reply. He always uses choicest Bengali words and expressions.  No wonder,
he always used to take at least 10 marks' lead over me in our first
language.

   All six of us sought the blessings of the elders, that is Dadu and Dida,
by putting "abeer" on their feet as our "pronam"(a gesture of respects to
the elders) and then it was our time to play with the colours.

   Sonali and Papiya were easily accessible.  So they were our first
targets of colour play.  I don't know why I didn't see Keka-di, while three
of us were busy in applying abeer on their forehead and cheeks.  While I
was doing that, someone came from behind and coloured me all over my face
and there was a bout of laughter.

   "Keka-di !  Tumi ?  Dnaaraao, dekhachchhi majaa !!!" I shouted and
immediately wanted to make her my target in revenge of her acts, which
caught me unawares.

   As soon as I turned back, Keka-di ran away to the garden.  I ran faster
than her and grabbed her.

   "Paalaale cholbe ?  Aaj sabaar range rang meshaate hobe ..." I said,
quoting the last sentence from a Tagore song.

   "There's no use in being poetic.  You couldn't even sing a song
yesterday." she answered with a tone of complaint.

   Now, Keka-di was within my grips.  Without wasting time, I put as much
of "abeer" as my palm could accommodate and applied it all over her hair,
forehead and cheeks.  The pretty face of hers turned colourful, well beyond
recognition, in no time.  The touch brought a new sensation within me.  Her
cheeks were much softer than what I had imagined last night.  I wish I
could take my own time to colour her, but

   I was forced to do everything in a hurry, as Keka-di was trying to flee
again.  I also put colours on her neck, upto the border of her blouse,
knowing fully well that the border was my limit.  I had indeed gone well
beyond those borders in my fantasies last night, but now, I couldn't ignore
the borders of reality.

   In the meantime, Chandan and Abhirup had finished colouring the other
two girls and came running to Keka-di.  She tried to run away again, with a
shrill noise of screaming.  I tightly gripped her upper arms from behind,
allowing Chandan and Abhirup to colour her.

   "Ei please ....  please beshi naa -" she pleaded before them to restrict
their extent of colouring.  At least Chandan was in no mood to listen to
her plea and Keka-di tried to escape from my grip.  In that process,
something happened unintentionally.  My fingers got pressed against her
blouse and when I realized that my fingers were feeling the softness of her
right breast, my male organ started stiffening and throbbing then and there
!  The soft feeling was just incredible.  Being embarrassed of my erection,
I immediately loosened my grip and allowed Keka-di to run.  Abhirup and
Chandan had already smeared colours on her, as much as they could in such a
short time.  I simply escaped from the scene, before the prominent bulge in
my pajama was noticeable to anybody.  Thank God, I managed to hide quickly
and successfully !

   "Swagato, Dida is calling you.  She is ready with a plate of sweets."
Abhirup called me, as I was alone in a corner of the garden.  By then, the
heat within me had somewhat subsided, but still the drum-beating of the
heart was on.

   "Wow !  I'll be there." I answered.

   "Ekaa ekaa ki korchhili ?" Abhirup was quite curious to know why I was
out of the group.

   "Just enjoying these flowers." I said.

   "Enjoy flowers later.  Won't you talk to her ?" Abhirup was naughty
enough to give me yet another hint.

   "Shut up !" I said, apparently expressing my annoyance on the face of
it, but within myself, I enjoyed what he said.

   Offering sweets to others is a part of holi culture in India.  Dida had
prepared some "maalpoaa" (a special kind of sweet) and still a few were
remaining for me.  While taking the sweets, each one of us must have taken
a fair dose of coloured powders with it.

   "So you escaped before we could apply colours on you ?  It's now our
turn" said Sonali and Papiya.  Although I applied colours on them, the
reverse couldn't take place, before I was "attacked" by Keka-di.  In no
time, I was "womanhandled" by them.  There was so much of fun in it.  I
leave it to the imagination of the readers.

   Six of us chatted for some time together.  Unlike yesterday, today,
there was no boy-girl groupism.  All six of us together formed a group. 
Whenever I was having a direct eye-contact with Keka-di, my entire mind was
getting filled up with a sense of deep love and passion.  I wanted to keep
that wonderful feeling entirely within me and was conscious that none other
than me should get slightest indication of it.  Not even Abhirup.

   After some time, we had to depart.  Chandan had invited me and Abhirup
for a lunch in their house.  We hadn't been to his house since we came here
and by inviting us for lunch, he ensured that we don't just make a hurried
visit or a mere courtesey call to their house.  The girls proceeded to the
girls' hostel.  We planned to meet again in the evening during the open-air
cultural event.

   In Chandan's house we had yet another round of colour play.  This time
it was with Chandan's elder brothers.  With so much of heterogeneous
combinations of red, pink, purple and green colours all over our faces and
dresses, we had to take our shower before taking the lunch.  Usually, the
lunch on a holi day is taken quite late, as the showering and removal of
colours is a very time consuming process for those who take part in the
festival.

   I was not being able to forget the arousal which I had during the
accidental touch of her breast's softness in the morning.  It was making me
hot again, when I thought about it while taking my showers.  I was
fantasizing Keka-di in her showers.  In my imagination, she removed her
colour-stained clothes slowly, one after the other and came nude under the
shower.  The colured water streams from her forehead, cheeks and chin went
on flowing past her breasts and trickled through the bushes between her
legs.  "Shall I help you with your bath ?" I asked her in imagination.  My
hardness was becoming unbearable.  I was massaging my manhood in a rhythmic
way.  Pre-cum was already oozing out and as my rhythm and imaginations
intensified further, jets of cum shot out in projectile paths.  I increased
the flow of water in the shower so that everything could get washed away,
along with all the colours, some of which were applied by Keka-di. 
"Keka-di !  I love you so much.  So much !" I cried out in the peak of my
fantasy.

   After a nice lunch and afternoon time with Chandan's parents and
brothers, it was time to go for the cultural program in the evening.  I was
eager to see Keka-di again, be with her again.  Once again the drum-beating
of heart started within me.  Would I sit close to her, perhaps a bit too
close to smell the sweet perfume which she used last evening ?  When we
reached the open-air venue of the cultural programme, we found that Sonali,
Papiya and Keka-di had already taken their seats on the rugs laid on the
ground.  They had kept some space for us, where three of us managed to
seat. There was an exchange of smile and "hello" between us and them, but
no special interaction between myself and Keka-di, which I had expected so
fondly.  The exhuberance, which I had seen in her in the last evening, was
missing.  Is it because she was displeased with me for any reason ?  But
then, what could be the reason ?  Didn't she like the way I coloured her ?
Is it that she misunderstood my purely unintentional touch ?  If that is
the case, how would I tell Keka-di that I was innocent ?  These thoughts
made me tense and in the end, I was unable to enjoy the dance-drama, which
featured in the cultural programme of the evening.

   All six of us were strolling together after the programme.  Chandan,
Papiya, Abhirup and Sonali were doing most of the talking.  It was full
moon tonight, but pieces of scattered clouds had occluded the lovely moon
from our view.

   "Megh-ta shore jachchhe, dyakho" Keka-di told me as the cloud was
uncovering the moon gradually.  In no time, Shantiniketan was flooded with
moonlight.

   "Doesn't it look fabulous ?" she asked.  I could see a smile on her
face. I remembered Tagore's famous song:

   "Chnaader haasir bnaadh bhengechhe "

   and felt that along with Keka-di, full moon too was smiling with its
flooded light.  All the tensions that engulfed my mind so long, faded away
with the passing clouds.

   We decided to have a cup of tea at a tea-stall before proceeding to our
respective places.  We started discussing about the cultural programme of
the evening.

   I was impressed with Keka-di's knowledge about Tagore's literature and
discovered that she was up-to-date with the cultural life of Kolkata.  Her
interests were not restricted to Tagore songs and dance-dramas alone.  We
talked of Bengali film "Jana Aranya" of Satyajit Ray, the contemporary
Hindi films "Anand", "Aradhana", sensational dramas of Utpal Dutta, songs
of Hemanta, Manna Dey, Kishore Kumar, Rafi, Mukesh, Lata, Asha , melodius
tunes of Salil Choudhury and RD Burman in contemporary Hindi films, acting
talents of Amitabh-Sharmila etc.  Really speaking, we were passing through
a golden era of Indian films and culture in those days.

   "Don't you know Swagato sings Manna Dey's songs so nicely !" Abhirup
told Keka-di in a low voice.  He thought his words wouldn't reach my ears.

   "Abhirup !  Toke maarbo !" I was about to blow a punch at Abhirup for
this loose comment.

   "I won't leave Shantiniketan before listening to Swagato's songs" added
Keka-di.

   I just tried to to divert the discussion topic.

   "Keka-di, which football team do you support - East Bengal or Mohun
Bagan ?" I asked.

   Keka-di said, "Look, I was talking about songs and you are telling about
football !  Isn't it like the dialogue in "Janaya Aranya" film where a
stranger on the road, who was returning from the football ground was asked
if he was a Pass or an Honours graduate and he answered - Mohun Bagan,
without listening to the question."

   There was a roll of laughter.I really liked the sense of humour in
Keka-di.

   Tea stall is always a good place for a friendly chat in Bengal and we
didn't realize how quickly the time went by.  From literature to films,
cricket, football rivalry - we discussed everything and we could feel a
kind of closeness within the group.  A chat in Bengal is never complete
without discussing politics, but we didn't.  The painful memories of our
worst-ever political turmoils were still vivid in our eyes.

   It was time to depart.

   "What's our plans for tomorrow ?" I threw this question open to the
group.

   "Good question.  Can't we go out somewhere ?  I mean somewhere outside
this Visva Bharati campus." Keka-di proposed.

   We all looked at Chandan with the expectation that he would be our local
guide.

   "Oh no, I'm just sorry.  Tomorrow, I will be busy with a family get
together.  Would you just excuse me ?" he said, expressing his inability.
Our next choice of local guide was Sonali, since she was a student of Visva
Bharati.

   "Would you like to go upto the banks of Kopai river ?  I think it will
be nice." Sonali suggested.

   We all liked the idea.  The choice of place wasn't that important.  More
important was to spend some more time together and I was particularly
interested to know Keka-di more.

   "Okay, we will be at your place by 9 o'clock in the morning.  Get ready
by then." said Sonali.

   "For a change, can't we go to the ladies hostel ?" I asked.

   "You can, but don't blame me if you get a solid beating from the
inmates" Sonali said with a giggle.

   "You mean "womanhandling" ?  That's not too bad - I had a feel of that
in the morning."

   "It would be much worse than that, I'm afraid." Sonali cautioned.

   We departed for our respective places of stay.

   **** The full moon was looking more beautiful than what it was last
night.  Abhirup and I were sitting on the floor in the balcony.

   "Swagato, how do you feel ?" asked Abhirup.

   "Really really nice Abhirup.  I wish I could stay here for ever." I
wanted to express my inner feelings to my dear friend.  Perhaps the inner
self in me wanted to add "with Keka-di" in the sentence I uttered, but I
still maintained the secrecy of my dreams.  A feeling of joy and mental
bliss was sweeping my mind.  At that moment, the whole world was looking
beautiful in my eyes.  I was humming one of my favourite Tagore songs
depicting love in romantic Spring.

   "A bit of your touch A bit of your words And with that I compose my own
romantic Spring."

   are the essence of the wordings of the songs that I sang in Bengali :

   "Ektuku chhnoa laage, ektuku kathaa shuni, Taai niye mone mone rachi
mamo phaalguni"

   "Ektu galaa khule gaan kor -" Abhirup told me to sing aloud.

   I was afraid that Abhirup might ask me again about Keka-di.  Although he
was my best friend, I was in no mood to share my inner feelings with him. I
wanted to keep all my thoughts very personal.  Perhaps Abhirup too sensed
it and kept his curiosity within.

   When I came to the bed, one by one I thought about the every detailed
happenings of the day.  What a day it was !  My first touch, applying
colours on her face, the soft feelings of her breasts which came so
suddenly to me, the fantasy of her bath and finally, the nice time together
in the evening.  I was feeling the pinch of my hardness again.  This time,
I was in no mood to rush to the bathroom and release it instantly.  I just
softly massaged my male organ through the fabric of my pajama.  I imagined
her touch there and it stiffened me more.  It formed a tent with no sign of
subsiding.  I looked at Abhirup.  He was fast asleep.  So, I wasn't
embarrassed anymore.  With more and more erotic thoughts engulfing my mind,
I wanted to live with my heat and stiffness for a long, long time.  A visit
to the bathroom and the release was inevitable at the end.  Then only I had
a nice, sound sleep.

   **************End of Part-2. 
*********************************************