In urban India where we are always looking over our shoulder, society self destructs. Whether it be protest against caste, religious restrictions, education, or choice of sexuality, these are the boundaries that if broken incur socio-familial wrath. Yet people rebel against the supposed morals, traditions and values that have led to discord, disharmony and many a times suicide by those unable to grapple the trauma caused by outdated conservatism.

Those who stick on to archaic patriarchal practices are also inevitably homophobic in their outlook. The fact is now our fundamentalists have finally found a common cause to be united against - to beat up the faggot and the butch!! And as usual they make homosexuals the bogeymen out to prey on the children. Yes, it’s always about the children. The last desperate straw when invoking the message of a homophobic god fails- think about the children!

In this brutal environment there are few straight people who stand by gay friends and wonder how they survived the brutal Indian environment where disdain and most of the times violence was committed against them. There are very few of us who in social occasions and even in the midst of family with sure voices say that we have no problems if our children are gay.

When homosexuals rise from the ashes and reach for the rainbows, how can heterosexuals sit back and not be part of the extraordinary unfolding? The triumph of the human spirit cannot be denied.

Only when the heterosexuals stand by them shoulder to shoulder and give them the courage to come out of the closet will they breathe easier in a country which they call their own and yet live in fear or suffer loneliness. When we are willing to take a brick meant for them will the country change.

This isn’t a fight against the morals or values of the country. Gays love and live like us. They dream of happily ever afters; they dream of acceptance from family, sincere friendships, of having their own families, or simply the desire to be treated as human without being judged.

Today, I am proud of being from Delhi - the capital of India where to love under the rainbow is perfectly legal.

She took in the panoramic view. The snow capped mountains with thick ever green forests hardly spoke of the teaming wild life hidden in their cold embrace. The dark skies gently unloaded their hoarded wisps of angel feathers and insisted that Christmas had not passed a few weeks back. The world was pristine white, uncorrupted and silent.

"Come back in!" Bobby's call broke Kajol's reverie and she rolled her eyes. So much for honeymoon in the mountains.

"You're letting in the cold. Get in now!" His irritated tone had gone up an octave. She went back in and he growled at her "Look at you! You are not even wearing a sweater! Get into bed."

Bed?! Again? Kajol bit her tongue and eyed her gorgeous husband lying buck naked under the thick blankets. She wished he had a reading habit and rued the fact that she was the one who told him - No laptops, no portable dvd players. Nothing to distract us! Just you and me in the wild.

She thought they would enjoy nature together instead her husband had turned into a bored octopus with eight hands.

Kajol wanted to kick herself. Her husband had taken the -you and me part to heart and neglected the wilderness completely. There was no space between them and she already was suffering from cabin fever. She wanted out of the luxurious cabin with its roaring fireplace, plush wall to wall carpeting and cozy furnishings.

"Come baby! Lie down with me. I'll warm you up." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she opened the thick wooden door a little more letting in the cold. Bobby shivered and crossed his arms over his naked chest "Sweetie? Whats going on?"

He cocked an eyebrow and stared at his beautiful bride. Something was different about her.

Kajol took off her nightwear and stood naked before Bobby. Her brown nipples peaked in the cold and goose bumps raised the downy hair and tingled every inch of her soft skin. It was time! She could feel it in her bones. They had find the one common ground to seal their marriage forever.

Bobby knew something was wrong. "Baby?! You'll fall sick! Close the door and get in."

Kajol thrust her head back and ignored the cold and spoke in measured tones "Are you sure you want me Bobby? This time it will be different."

Bobby grinned and pushed back the doubt that was slowly gripping his heart "Honey, its always different. Every act between us is beautiful and special."

She walked over to him and pushed him back against the warm bed. He relaxed against the soft cotton pillows and stared into her cool brown eyes. She pulled the blankets off him and rested her hand against his scrotum.

"You talk a lot of bullshit, Bobby. This is not going to be beautiful. Its going to be wild and painful"

He cleared his throat "Painful? You're kidding; aren't you Kajol? Stop playing around and close the door Kajol! You're letting in the cold."

"A little bit of cold won't kill you."

He sucked a breath in as she caressed him and he felt desire rise within him. He looked at her expressionless face. He tried to reach forward and kiss her lips but she put her slim fingers against his mouth and whispered "Look outside Bobby. What do you see?"

"Babes! C'mon!" He tried to roll her into the bed but she grabbed his balls and commanded " Look out mate of mine! What is it that you see?"

Bobby held back a nervous chuckle- Mate of mine?! And she had him by the balls. Well, two could play the game he figured.

He looked over her shoulder and whispered in awe "I see nothing. Its dark and cold. Its feels like cold death."

"Cold death?" She whispered and began to caress him again "Yes, there will be death but it won't be cold."

"You mean little death?" Bobby smiled up at his wife as she sheathed. But Kajol didn't smile back. She looked at him with serious intent as she rode him. He sucked a breath in and held her waist. It was different this time. It was more intense and his body seemed to react to her's strangely. It was as if he was captured. He bucked as his juices flew through his member to her dark womb and her inner muscles gripped him tighter.

There was no respite. His eyes flew to her and tried to push her off. She stared into his eyes and took in short breaths. She continued to grind against him and his member responded.

Bobby's struggle became frantic "Kajol! Stop it!"

He grabbed her shoulders to push her off. She grabbed his hands and pinned them to the bed and continued to move.

He bucked again and this time he felt as if his very essence was being pulled in her.

She fell on him.

He felt her teeth break his skin and bite his jugular. He screamed. She held him down. He felt like a child pinned down by a monster. His mind reeled- Was she human?

Memories flashed in his mind as she sank her teeth deeper. He remembered meeting her at their workplace, taking her for dates, meeting her family, marrying her. Kajol, the ever kind Kajol, his loving bride was killing him!

He screamed and his call flew out of the door and decimated into the silent night.

He whimpered - Please ..please

Before he fainted, he saw his wife rise above him and push his hair away from his forehead and say softly- Its done.

For two days and two nights he remained in bed. She did not hold him down. She didn't need to. Fever rode him hard. He sweated and mumbled. Dreams tormented him. He ran through the forest and felt the moist earth greet him and egg him on back towards the cabin. Back to Kajol. He tried to resist but the pull was strong. The door of the cabin was open and she stood inside waiting for him.

He reached her and tried to kiss her. His beloved wife. He loved her so and she bit him. He howled his betrayal and woke up with a start and found himself looking at his wife.

Kajol smiled at him softly "Welcome back!"

"What?" he croaked and tried to clear his throat. She handed him a glass of water and spoke.

"You had been out for a long time but now you are back. The door is still open. Tell me what do you see?"

Bobby turned his head and looked out into the night and spoke "The skies are clear and the moon looks - my god! it looks as if I could reach over and touch it. Its looks as if its rising from below the mountain. How can that be?"

He turned back and looked at his wife "I don't feel the same. I don't feel human."

Suddenly he shifted his head and stared at the corner of the cottage "Snuffling! I can hear snuffling. Whats it? A rabbit?"

Kajol threw her head back and laughed "You made it. You truly are my mate. Come, rise. Walk with me."

She moved away and let Bobby rise on his own. He looked at his naked body in surprise. He felt renewed instead of exhausted from the illness that had plagued him for so long.

Kajol held out a hand. "Come husband. The moon beckons."

Bobby walked out of the cottage with Kajol. The wet crunchy snow felt good under his feet. He stared at the silent moon that pulled his very bones and began to change.

The moon was always gentle and benevolent in her magical gifts. In his heart Bobby heard the primeval call from deep within the forest and let the wolf that was now him respond in a deep throated howl.

Kajol gently nuzzled against her husband and raised her head and joined in the call. The two wolves with the dreaded silent grace that was granted only to the lupus then streaked into the wild.

The perfect honeymoon had finally begun.

I wanted them both but then decided to take two Magnolia Pumila, one tree of sweet lime, some treasure flowers and ornamental grass.

There still are plants waiting to be planted and soil that needs to be weeded, dug up, replenished and seedlings to be taken care of. And I basically added more stuff in the queue.

Since I have a lot of plants in containers, watering them is also a chore I have no way of shirking. When it pours I thank the gods for taking the chore of my hands if only for a day or two. But then again its back to toiling for over an hour every day.

One can never be done with a garden since its forever evolving. A friend of mine in the US used to devote her Sundays to gardening. Initially I couldn't understand her obsession but then again the love of soil soon enough pulled me down and made my roots earth bound.

Sometimes I even find myself apologizing to a wilted plant. But then again I'm not the only gardener who feels guilt if a plant dies of neglect.

Gardening takes us back to nature and I think I am ready to now try my hand at growing vegetables. Flowers look good and balm the soul but its the vegetables through which we really reap what we sow.

Next week I will prepare a small plot to grow tomatoes, aubergines and gourd and will blog about my efforts.

When we drive up to Mysore, which is just over two hours from Bangalore on the well-constructed new highway, we tend to leave by 4:30 AM or so to beat the morning traffic build-up as you get out of the city. This time, though, it was about 5 as we bundled the drowsy kids into the backseat, double-checked locks, bags, cats in the house and bumped our way through the half-completed road in front of our house towards the highway.

I took the on-ramp to the spanking new and as-yet incomplete NICE Road (or the Bangalore-Mysore Nandi Infrastructure and Corridor Expansion). The series of tolls before we touched the Mysore road took a somewhat unusual bite of over Rs. 50/-, unusual for a city that has taken its infrastructure for granted, and cannot fathom paying for better services. The toll road is a breeze, smooth tarmac, enclosed in a cocoon of cleanliness, and a time-saving wonder, except for the brief patch of disputed land.

Once we were on Mysore Road, our next landmark was our favorite halt at the Janapada Loka restaurant, which serves cylindrical idlis wrapped in plantain leaves, and piping hot coffee. Soon after, we drove past the drive-thru Mickey D's promising ourselves a visit on the return leg. We reached Mysore in good time, checked in to our temporary quarters, and post a quick bite, set out to explore the city.

We decided to check out the much-praised Mysore Zoo, set up by Chamaraja Wodeyar of Mysore in 1892, and designed by the German designer G H Krumbeigal, who also designed the Brindavan Gardens at the KRS Dam in Mysore, and Cubbon Park in Bangalore. The zoo was originally ten acres and has since expanded to over 250 acres of verdant greenery, very close to the Mysore Palace and juxtaposed against the slopes of the Chamundi Hill.

As soon as we stepped into the zoo, we knew we were in for a treat. The first exhibit was a large expanse of green with a few sparse trees and some very tall giraffes. One particular chap was quite curious about the visitors, bending down and peering almost into our faces.

The exhibits are laid out along a three km long path, and a nifty tour bus trundles along for those who might prefer a more sedentary pace.

Often the tour bus is held up by a bullock cart carrying snacks for the zoo's inhabitants.

The large felines have a happy hunting ground and seemed quite content. This particular tigress seemed to be waiting for her lunch to be served.

The Mysore Zoo is also the only zoo in South Asia to host a gorilla. He seemed quite glum and pensive.

An African elephant is also in residence, and a couple of lions.

Some of the best exhibits are the birds, ranging from pelicans to swans to more exotic varieties.

Zoos do engender an uncomfortable reaction. On the one hand, they perform a useful service, and well-run zoos like the Mysore Zoo are a delightful experience. On the other, the scenes of engineered captivity are unsettling, especially the evident pathos many of the animals display. The New York Times addresses some of these concerns in a recent article about the new snow leopard exhibit at the Central Park Zoo.

one of the dominant impulses in the contemporary zoo is a guilty conscience: Yes, we capture these wild creatures and put them on display, but we affirm that it is being done to save them— and to teach others to save them.

These justifications shape an approach to design. No one could wish a return to the 19th-century cages or the monkey houses you can still find in older zoos; they overwhelm with the stench of enclosed animal life, and cannot fail to inspire pity or dismay.

Now the smells are gone (zoos have become nasally antiseptic). And in the lovely snow leopard exhibition, the old zoo order is thoroughly overturned: the animals are on the outside and humans in the enclosure. But is this model any less artificial than the old? Look closely: Nature here is a stage set, portraying something we want to see and something we believe animals want to see. The waterfall, rocks and mist are manufactured, created for both the viewers’ pleasure and the animals’, shaping a creaturely spa for voyeurs. Some fake rocks are even heated during cold weather.

The claim is that this is an improvement on the natural world. The animals are taken in at night for safety and housed in a facility that allows for breeding and offspring. They are protected from the hazards of avalanche and predator. We are tempted to believe that the animals may be better off here: to speak anthropomorphically, happier.

The Mysore Zoo adheres to this principle of making the habitats aesthetically pleasing and more attuned to the animals' needs than merely cages with the stench of unhappiness. Visitors, too, seem respectful of their surroundings. There was minimal litter, and people did not crowd around noisily at the cages, hooting at the animals (well, a few did). This was a marked contrast to the Bannerghata National Park in Bangalore, which is a ghastly, over-crowded, poorly maintained excuse for a zoo. Interestingly, the Mysore Zoo is an autonomous body, not receiving any funds from the government. There were some incidents of animals dying mysteriously in 2004, including a couple of elephants, a macaque, an emu, and a tiger, allegedly due to poisoning.

----------Stephen King

No, don't get all uncomfortable about it. Where is the waiter? I want my whiskey on rocks! Alcohol tastes good, doesn't it? Look at the glimmering gold that burns a smooth hole down my belly and gives me the courage to stay put in the same room as him.

He has maintained his slim figure despite the ten years that I last was with him. Lucky man! Handsome men wear age well whereas pretty women like me start to look like plastic surgery wannabes.

There you again looking uncomfortable. No! I'm not drunk. Bitter? Sure! Sorry! I think I'm a little dizzy. Drinking on empty tummy does reel the senses. Nice music, don't you agree? Wanna dance? Its been a while since I let loose.

Come on! Just you and me. Don't be so mean. You and I are single ready to mingle and all I am asking for is a dance. Fine! We won't hit the floor. We can dance right here.

Nice coat, must say. Let me remove the flint from your sleeve. White hair? Oh you have a cat uh? How sweet! Am I too close? Want me to move away? Don't look so worried. I won't pounce on you not like he pounced on me and forgot all about me.

He used to pounce on me quite a bit during those good old days. Sit, did you say? Sure, why not. Lets sit at the bar. And yes I will drink and no, you will not stop me. Waiter! Bloody Mary. And yes! I am mixing my drinks.

See how he is all over that barely out of college kid. She is all weak- kneed over him being a 'uncle figure' and he has pedophilia thoughts stuffing down his pants.

You are laughing? Yeah, I can be funny. At a grand old age of forty some shit I can afford to be funny. But you know its easier for me to get a lay than for him to get a fuck from that kid.

I can have just about any man in the room, even you. Too much to drink? Maybe but not enough to go completely Dev D on you. Now you find me hot, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. Liquid Sherry! Thats the color of your eyes.

Your skin feels smooth under my fingers. You shaved for our date, didn't you? And yet you won't even hold my hand. The thorough Indian gentleman.

He on the other hand is a wolf tearing through sheep's clothings. Bad boys like him get all the action, the money and the pretty girl where as men like you get spent women like me!

Don't shake your head. Men like you don't get women like me. I'm sorry about that. You are very nice man. And deserve a woman as nice as you not someone as hard as nails like me.

There you go shaking your head. I think I am going to be sick. Ladies loo for me! I can walk on my own. Damn! I better not bang into that a-hole. Now that would be a real highlight of the evening, right?

Demands came and my heart sank. There was no food and no help. I muttered - I need to get some groceries; won't take too long. They nodded the guest nod and went on conversing. I grabbed my car keys and drove out and to my utter horror found all the roads dug up. I found myself in a jam and began to have a massive anxiety attack. I couldn't breathe, my fingers shook and I began to sweat.

I stepped out of the car to take a breather but my heart kept skipping like a frantic rabbit. There were people and yet I was alone. I rested my head against the heated metal of the car and tried to catch my breath but I couldn't breathe.

It seemed as if my lungs felt constricted and I began to crumple on dug up road. I was dying -no more breathing for ddlamba, a voice whispered and just then I woke up with a start!

This is the best time for gardening is when the soil yields and the weather is no longer blistering hot and the best time to get in tune with nature is either early morning or late afternoon. Gardening can also be a good way of exercising. I bought over ten plants on the way back from Mysore and they required planting. So I grabbed a spade and got to work yesterday evening

I struggled with the heavy sack of potting mixes, grabbed my containers, my rickety wooden stool to park my butt on and got to work. It took me over two hours and still there were more plants and even two small trees that required planting. I heaved and wondered if all the toiling was really worth it and then I looked at the greenery and the flowers.

Beyond my little home lies a land stripped of all greenery. There is only dirt and construction. On entering the Lamba residence one is welcomed by the site of greenery. Trees, plants and lots of flowers lift the visitor's spirits. But it all takes effort and without a gardener the toiling is therapeutic and yet tiring

Gardening has become more than a hobby for me. It is an obsession. I want to visit more nurseries than my usual ones and look for exotic plants. In fact I have a long list of plants that I want but are not available. Living in a city like Bangalore where a family even managed to grow strawberries can easily be a gardener's paradise if one is willing to put in a wee bit of effort and time.

We have other visitors too. A resident rat snake is a regular, and I've encountered him sunning himself on the cool granite at our doorstep. The carcass of a lizard was found yesterday.

He watched her enter and followed her as she made for darker cooler interiors- the bathroom. Her beautiful light brown scales caught the rays of the rising sun from the window before she went and coiled herself behind the frosted plastic bucket.

The youngest of the family members entered the bathroom. He peed in the pot. His mother screamed “Did you put the seat up before peeing?!” The five year olds tongue snuck out between his teeth and his eyes glimmered with surprise. His mother had caught him without even being there. She was all knowing. He flushed and scampered out of the bathroom. The snake went unnoticed and so did the one who watched the snake.

The bathroom door shut with a bang and a childlike voice could be heard demanding Gobi Paranthas. Adult voices responded. The male voice said something and the female laughed. The little boy cackled and whooped. A happy family he told the resting snake that ignored him.

She hid her head between the smooth twists of her form and felt his loneliness as he watched over her. He garnered no sympathies from her. It wasn’t in her nature to empathize. She lived to procreate and to eat those delicious rats that were becoming few in number. The rains were coming, the rats were dying and there were few places left to live in moist cool solitude.

Here too, there was no peace to be found. She would have to move. The noisy human had proven the place was not a conducive habit but where would she go? It would be best to wait, even if only for a while. The cool stones beneath her lulled her to sleep.

He stayed with her for she was his brethren in nature. He lodged against the wall and waited for the next human to enter. It was the blurry eyed father who next walked in. He ran a hand over his rough unshaven cheeks and began to shave.
The snake went unnoticed. The father didn’t take a bath. It was Sunday after all.
There was no need to hurry.

“Anil?! Where are you?”

“Coming! What yaar? Can’t I even shave in peace?” The father of the five year old yelled back and left the bathroom.

There was more yelling. He heard them fight as did the snake catch the vibrations who was rudely woken from her siesta.

“Why do you always go to the bathroom when I lay the table?” she yelled
The father yelled back “Woman! This isn’t the army. I can go to the bathroom whenever I want to.”

They fought on and the snake raised her head. It was time to leave.

He nodded. Wise decision. The family could drive anyone up the wall. He would know he had suffered them since the damn house was built on his land and he was forced to live with them.

The bathroom door was left ajar and she began to make her silent trek whence she came from. He followed her till the thresh hold of the house. She slithered out of the open doorway. Out into the open where nature was distorted and pillaged by hungry humans.

She didn’t look back. Why would she? He turned back to be in the midst of those whose warmth never touched him. The five year old ran through him and he felt a slight tremor in his ether and he resumed his form.

Damn humans, he muttered and watched them eat their Gobi Paranthas.

She looked at the lean figure of her husband. His hair was still thick though peppered liberally. When they got married his mane was raven dark and his mouth without laughing lines. He knew how to bring her body alive but her heart continued to slumber.

Even now with her marriage at a breaking point she felt nothing; nothing but a cold shaft of awakening relief. She sat back against the couch and spoke in even tones. She was about to topple her marriage over the plank, feed it to the ravenous sharks.

"What do you propose, Rajiv?"

He turned and looked at her. He took in her sturdy beauty. She was big boned with sharp features and creamy skin. He knew every nook and cranny of her body but even in her sex embrace there was a pervading coldness that chilled his heart.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the cool surface of the glass window. "Divorce. I don't see why either one of us should continue to live this hollow existence."

She sighed and looked away "You deserve to be loved, Rajiv. You're a good man."

He shook his head. "I don't know if I have it in me to go through it one more time."

Sonali saw the hurt and wanted to ease it for him. She wasn't cruel but she knew she'd feel the same for a wounded animal. A practical concern devoid of feelings.

"When do you want to begin the process? We have to inform our families."

"Families?" he asked. "Are you not forgetting our own children?" Anger crept into his voice.

Sonali shrugged. "They are young and resilient and will bounce back. At least we can ensure its an amicable separation; that way the hurt will be minimal."

"God! How can you be so cold? So devoid of human love? Even with our children your behavior is always so matter of fact. So bloody sterile. Even a nanny would have given them more love" he seethed

"I lead a detached existence Rajiv. Nothing can touch me. I am emotionally crippled. Cold and barren. You knew it when you married me. I told you as much but you still married me. Don't lay all the blame on my doorstep. I've never taken you for a ride. In fact I led the life you wanted me to lead." She continued to speak in cool tones.

"And made me fall in love with you." He shouted and then tried to control his raging emotions. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. A habit she was well aware of. He would do that whenever he was stressed and then rub his high forehead.

She knew him like the back of her hand. She could break him easily but even the knowledge of her power over him did nothing for her. She was a cold unfeeling fish.

The silence between them was telling in its temporary existence. He wrapped his arms around himself and bowed his head, trying his best to hold the tears of misery back and she continued to sit on the couch - a mute spectator to the drama where she played the phantom.

"Ma?" A tiny voice whispered

The couple turned and saw their two year old son standing in his flannel pajamas holding his crotch.

"Ma, I have to pee," he continued to hold his crotch and like a little shaman did the rain dance.

On seeing their apple cheeked son's antics the parents smiled despite themselves.

Sonali got up from the couch and took the toddler to the bathroom. As he relieved himself she wondered at the havoc her inabilities would wreck upon her innocent children. She pulled up the child's pajamas and kissed his warm head.

"Go to bed" she whispered.

"You phut me in bhed" his words were already slurring and eyes drooping.

He looked like a little cupid. She caressed his hair, picked him up. He wrapped his little body around her like a warm coat but no motherly love cupped her heart.

She laid him back in the bed, pulled the covers over him and looked at the other children sleeping in their beds in the big room. They were like their father, affectionate, giving and full of life. They were the antithesis of their mother.

Sonali sat down on the bed of her youngest who she put to bed and wondered whether her desire to run from her responsibilities was the right thing to do.

Rajiv cleared his throat. His silhouette against the streaming light gave her a pause. She was a cold wasteland in the midst of a lush thriving jungle. Maybe they could survive a few wafts of cold once in a while. Her kids never knew their mother to be any different but what of Rajiv?

She got up from the bed and followed Rajiv out.

As they entered the living room she spoke up. "I'm sorry for the grief I have caused you Rajiv. I am a broken vessel. No matter how much love you pour into me it will all bleed out but that doesn't mean I don't care about you or our children."

Her breath got caught in her throat. She took a minute and spoke again as he watched her closely. "Is it not possible for you to love for the both of us?"

She laid a pleading hand on his arm and looked up in his softening eyes. Maybe his love could really tide their little family together.

He folded her in his arms and she laid her head on his chest.

She gave a mischievous smile and swatted his skinny bare butt. “Don’t I know it honey? But it was a deal, right? C’mon, sweets it’s just me. Let’s have some fun.”

“Aradhana I really can’t do this.” He pleaded and looked into her twinkling light brown eyes. But she wasn’t letting him go. She eyeballed his naked frame and held out her flimsy lacy blue underwire bra.

“Wear it!” she ordered.

The bra looked fragile in his clumsy square fingers and his eyes rolled towards the ceiling.

“I – I can’t” he muttered “I don’t know what to do with it!”

She got up from their untidy bed where Victoria Secret lingerie bags were strewn around.

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do with it?” she put a hand on her slim waist and raised a questioning eyebrow at her one week old husband.

“You know exactly what to do with it. You’ve been taking bras off me even before we got married. Don’t be such a woos! Let me help you put it on. “

She slid her bra over his chest and clasped the hook at the back.

“Aaoow!” he cried ‘The wires hurt!”

Aradhana muffled her laughter. He looked funny with just the bra on.

She bent back towards the bags and pulled out a matching G-string underwear. She removed the price tag

“Now this is your size. I love you but I draw a line when it comes to underwear.” She held it forward and he took a step back. His masculinity protested.

“I seriously cannot”

She moved forward and threatened him “You want me to help you with it?”

He held up his hands “No! No I will wear it.”

He slid his Daddy Long legs through the flimsy cloth and complained once more “Shit! The damn thing is giving me a wedgie!”

Aradhana raised her eyebrows in mock surprise “Really? I didn’t know it did that.”

“Aradhana, you made your point. Let me go!” He pleaded

“Till the bitter end you promised Sudhir. Here, wear the garter belt. You picked it remember?”

He glared at his bride and pulled up the garter belt and she couldn’t hold her laughter back.

She handed him the silk stockings “Wear them and attach them to the clips of the garter belt.”

“The garter belt is way too tight.” He whined yet again.

“Let me.” She stood close to him and began to attach the pulled up stockings to the clasps. She drank in the smell of his cologne and held back the urge to kiss him. The game had to be played out. He needed to know.

“And now for the corset that gives women like me the cleavage and tiny waists that you so like.”

She pulled out a satin black corset with a tiny red ribbon in the middle.

“Nice isn’t it?” she wriggled her eyebrows at him.

He shook his head and again took a few steps back and bumped into a chair.

“Aww baby don’t be scared. The corset won’t bite you.” She covered the distance between them and held it up.

“Go on” she urged him “Over your head and down to your lean mean sex machine waist.”

He pulled it down and let her tighten the laces at the back. She tightened it to ensure he was breathless
“Too tight!” he cried.

“What’s too tight, honey?” she asked innocently and stepped back to see her husband in the lingerie she had let him pick for her on the condition that he would wear it once before she did.

“All of it! Lemme out of it! Now!” he tugged at the corset, and then tried to unwedgie his butt through the stockings and scratched his itching legs.

She sat back on the hotel chair, folded one leg over another and enjoyed his discomfort.

“Darling you have to walk around the room for two minutes before you can take it all off, remember? So let’s get the show started.”

He glared at her and she stared back at him. Minutes passed between them each wanting the other to back down and suddenly he gave her a rakish grin and began to prance around the room. He struck poses for her like men with sculpted bodies did at competitions.

The bra and the corset were pushed forward in unnatural positions as he brought his arms forward to show his lean pec and arm muscles. He turned sideways and held his arm up to show his biceps and triceps and then sent his wife into peals of hysterical laughter by turning his back towards her and did the sit ups.

He clenched and unclenched his lace suffering butt and the clasps of the garter belt threatened to snap.

Sudhir seemed to tap into his wild side and did a few ballerina steps as well. Tears of laughter streamed down

Aradhana’s face and she huffed between breaths “Stop! Please for heaven’s sake I cannot take it anymore.”

She covered her face with her fading hyena coloured hands.

Sudhir came over, kneeled down near her, removed her hands and looked into her twinkling eyes and asked gently “Had enough? Did I win the bet?”

She nodded and whispered “ Fine! You wore the lingerie and won the bet. I’ll wear whatever you want me to as well.” He grinned and tipped her face up to his “Anything?”

She nodded.

As he reached behind him to unclasp the bra hook he said “Wear those spiky red heels to bed.”

Aradhana took the heels out of their designer bag. “These? That’s cheating!”

“How so?” he took off the G-string and sighed with relief

“But ...but! We didn’t get these in your size!”

Sudhir yanked the garter off with the stockings and replied with a naughty smile “We? Honey, would you seriously have asked Feragamos of my size? You forgot and that’s your loss. Now c’mon heels and nothing else.”

Aradhana grumbled as she took off her clothes and slipped into heels that immediately had her knees complain.

“I’ve been had.” She complained and watched her husband slip back under the sheets and pat her side.

“Not yet honey! Come to bed.”

And as she gingerly slid in with the heels he asked “So tell me again babes who won in the end?”

She sucked in a breath as his hands trekked her body “You did.”

And as he slid into her he muttered “And don’t you forget it.”

Aradhana wrapped her heel covered legs around his waist and replied “Until next time sweetie. I will get you; just you wait.”