The Pleasure of Pain

“I’m feeling adventurous!” I reply, “I want to break-free from these worldly bondages. I am tired of this rat race. I am tired of this never-ending chase to the top. It’s an illusion – a mirage. You know, Jeremy, career has always been my priority. I don’t know when and how I fell in the trap of marriage which I am not meant for. I…what the fuck I am talking today. I haven’t talked like this before. Probably alcohol has done this to me. That stupid Cyrus…” my voice is breaking. Words fail to find voice. If they do, they are incomplete, meaningless which even I do not understand. My eyes are heavy. Feet unstable, unable to bear my weight any longer. Alcohol does that to me. That fucking Cyrus. I drop the lavenders. Too heavy for my weak hands.

“Why did you break-up with me,” my trembling voice hinted pain.
“Because you wanted me to focus on another profession and take poetry as a hobby. How could I do that? I won you over with Poetry, didn’t I?   “
“You could convince me.”
“As Shekhar did? Sorry! I didn’t want to be a ‘Shekhar’,” it’s a concern rather than contempt.

I look at him. It’s been 13 years since I’ve last seen him. But he looks the same. A pair of expressive eyes that are looking at me with the same innocence, the same ecstasy, the same interest and the very same love, as they used to, 13 years ago. His face oozes a strange calmness like that of a monk. No complaints. No desire. No aspirations. Somebody has said it rightly: first love never dies.

I don’t know if it’s his charm or the booze but I am having a peculiar feeling. It’s been years since I have felt this way. The evening hues of the setting sun are illuminating his face. He is looking divine. I don’t want to take my eyes off of his handsome face. No, it can’t be the booze. It’s a different intoxication. Hypnotism. He is hypnotizing me and I am letting him. As if it’s all I want.

A cold wave kisses my feet and it sparks a sensation, a burning desire which lingers through my whole body. And I start shaking. My heart’s beating like a drum. A furious wave hits a rock in an attempt to crush it, only to destroy its own self. But, she, the wave, is never going to regret this, I’m sure!  This pain is a pleasure. This sensation of self-destruction flares up my desires even more. I want to be that wave which loses her identity to find the pleasure of her pain.

The world ceases to exist. I have nobody to bother about. It’s me and my desire. I am aware that I’m as shameless as a slut but I have to; it is the only way to my salvation. I am excited. It’s impossible to control the tide now. The wave has to hit the rock. It’s pain. It’s pleasure. And I hit him, striving for salvation, praying for the pain, pleading for the pleasure. I wrap myself around his physical being like a snake around sandalwood. He surrenders to my desire. We hit the moist sand like a broken tree. Entwined. Desperate to absorb each other in our arms. The warmth of his lips is irresistible. I am shaking like a dry leaf. Our bodies are burning like a furnace.

He drops me down and covers me with his body as if providing me security against the cruel world. My hands pinned down behind my head. His rough coarse tongue is rolling inside my mouth. His lips are playing with my ears. Tasting my cheeks, rolling down to my neck, and back to my lips. And I am reciprocating.  Biting his lips out of hunger. Struggling to free my arms. Trying with all my might to take control. But I am not able to’ Pinned to the wet sand beneath, I am at his mercy, waiting for the pain and pleasures he will be blessing me with.

He slides his hands inside my shirt. I resist, reluctantly. He doesn’t stop. I let those fingers sense my softness. Groping and caressing. I close my eyes out of excitement and ecstasy. I am breathing heavily. Now panting. I lose the track of time. I am exalted. His hands move. I let him do it. I am lying topless; thankfully the sheath of darkness is hiding my nakedness. I don’t mind even if it doesn’t. I am attaining salvation. I feel hot and the wet warmth of his breath on my bare breasts. A faint moan escapes my mouth. He is ruling my body, my soul and my senses. And, I am approving it like a slave or a devotee. I don’t know.

I feel his hand invading my femininity.


Suddenly I am cold. I no more want what I was dying for in the previous moment. I am back to the world. Back to bondages. Back to life which I am not alive in.
Why am I behaving like this?
He separates himself from me. No questions. No appeal. No reactions. The same monk-like look returns to his face as if nothing has happened.
“Let’s go,” that’s all he says.
I search him for a reaction. It reveals nothing to embarrass me. Another wave hits the rock. Another being explores the ecstasy of self-destruction.

(Visited 96 times, 1 visits today)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *