‘I would love to see,’ he said reaching for her lips, ‘that day dawning soon in his life.’
‘Raja, I’m really proud of you,’ she said hugging him tightly as he released her lips. ‘I’ll bring that about, if only to prove the power of our love. I thought about what you’ve said and realized that it makes sense. As you’ve pictured the sentimental aspects so clearly, I could see the practical utility of it all. After all, adultery could be a double jeopardy for women, as liaisons wouldn’t address the marital irritants that push women into alien arms. To make it worse for women, affairs induce a feeling of guilt in them, pricking their conscience all the time. So, while still having to endure that which made them adulterous, women in liaison find themselves carrying the cross of infidelity as well. Besides, in time, the fear of exposure, imparts dullness to their sense of excitement, and that robs them of the thrills on the frills. When in the end, the inevitable desertion is on hand; won’t women wonder about the futility of it all? And it looks like your idea could be a via media. Oh, how I feel enslaved by your intellectual love.’
‘I’m proud of you Roopa,’ he kissed her ardently. ‘How nicely you’ve analyzed it all. I couldn’t delve that deep anyway.’
‘With all that rubbing we’ve been having,’ she said joyously, ‘a little of your intellect could have seeped into me.’
‘Add that to your charms and love, won’t you enslave me,’ he said in admiration, and added in jest. ‘But do spare me for I’ve to serve her as well.’
‘Don’t worry, by lending my helping hand, I’ll help you serve her better,’ she said as she winked at him, and thought, ‘How unique my life is! Isn’t it thrilling to have a man and his wife for lovers without the other being in the know? Oh, how exciting it is, being in the eye of the love storm.’
‘Let me see your course material,’ he said, as they came out of the kitchen in the end.
‘I know from your letters to Sandhya that your pen carries the beauty of your hand,’ he said, as she showed him her notes eagerly.
‘How can I ever show you,’ she said leaning on him, ‘the volume in my heart that I’ve penned with your name. Know it’s my Rama Koti of love.’
‘Oh Roopa,’ he said, hugging her, ‘How I would love to have your letter on hand, as I reach Delhi from Kakinada.’