Hello friends,
My name is Sajan Sharma, from Delhi. I was around 44 at that time. Married to Sandhya for 20 years, life was a straight boring line: 9 AM metro, 6 PM return, Sandhya’s food, sleep, repeat.
Then one day Shivam called, my friend from Jaipur.
Five years ago I had gone there for office work. He was 25 then, I was around 40. In one week we became like brothers. He invited me to his wedding; I couldn’t go. Every call he would say, “Sajan bhai, come once, yaar.”
This time I said yes. Told Sandhya, she frowned, “Fine, but not more than three days.”
I took a full one-month leave and left for Jaipur.
When the train reached Jaipur station, cold air kissed my cheeks. Shivam was waiting in his cream Range Rover. On the way he told me his business had grown huge. When we reached his house my eyes almost popped out, it wasn’t a house, it was a palace. White marble, massive lawn, swimming pool, fountain… pure royalty.
And then I saw Amrita standing at the door.
Friends, I swear I had never seen a woman so breathtaking in my life.
Figure: 34D-30-36, perfect hourglass. Slim waist, light pink saree pallu flowing gently. Long silky black hair on her shoulders. Tight blouse barely holding her heavy breasts. Deep kohl-lined eyes, dimples when she smiled, soft lips. She looked like a real princess who had stepped out of a painting.
The moment I saw her, my heart screamed, “She should have been mine.” But I controlled myself.
I touched her feet in respect. She folded her hands, “Namaste Sajan ji,” her voice so sweet it felt like drowning in honey.
First day tea-snacks, then royal Rajasthani thali. At night I went to the guest room, but sleep? Impossible. Only Amrita’s face in my mind.
Next afternoon Shivam took me to his study, locked the door, face red, eyes wet.
“Bhai… I need a very big favour.”
I laughed, “Tell me, what is it?”
What he said next made the ground slip from under my feet.
“I can’t become a father. Sperm count almost zero. Doctors refused. Amrita wants a baby. If she finds out she’ll break. Please… sleep with her just once. Give her a child. I trust only you. Please… for our friendship.”
I grabbed his collar in anger, “Have you gone mad?”
He fell at my feet, crying. “I can’t lose Amrita. Do it… just once… I’ll forget everything.”
The pain in his eyes… I couldn’t refuse.
I whispered, “Okay… but will Amrita agree?”
He said, “She won’t, and I don’t want her to know about my problem. Promise me she’ll never know.”
I promised.
He smiled through tears, “I knew you’d find a way. I’m going to Bangalore for a month tomorrow. You stay here. I’ll handle Sandhya bhabhi.”
That same evening everything was fixed.
We dropped Shivam at the airport. Now only me and Amrita in that palace.
First two days we could barely look at each other. She called me “Sajan ji”, I got nervous.
Then one night… I made up my mind.
I finished the full whisky bottle I had brought from Delhi. Drunk and burning with lust, at 1:30 AM I stood outside Amrita’s room.
The door was slightly open. Blue bed-lamp glowing. Cold Jaipur wind making curtains dance.
Amrita was sleeping on her side in a thin pink silk nightgown. It had ridden up to her thighs. Nothing underneath.