Published in the Indian Review
By Tara Dorabji
The hunger in his eyes was unquenchable. With effort she pushed back against her own desire. “Not today Babak, really we mustn’t be doing this here.” If it were London they could, but sitting here along the sea wall in Bombay, it was simply improper to show such displays of affection. Even worse, Babak was not Parsi. “I have a terrible headache and this terrible cramping,” Tanaz said.
Each monthly cycle was both a delight and a sorrow. She missed the rhythm for five weeks and feared that again she was in trouble. Today her world balanced out when she saw the familiar red stain on her sheets. Her body decided not to betray her, to tease her with the possibility of a child. Now that she was with Babak, she would have to get the pill on her next trip to London. Bombay was so backwards. Even though the pill was legalized in London in 1961, some eight year later, it was still terribly difficult to get in Bombay.
She felt Babak’s hand on the side of her neck. Her body proved impervious to his caress. “What is it?” Babak asked. She could detect a note of anger brewing. His hands moved across her knowing how to move around the trap of her words, unfurling her desire, until she was putty in his hand.
Read full story here: Indian Review