Our Dirty Little Secret II

Read the Part I first to relish this mindblowing short.

It was Ananya’s. Ananya Jindal, firstborn of Amit and Priyadarshini Jindal. She is a feisty twenty-year-old college girl studying International Relationships with short shoulder length red-streaked hair. Nose pierced with a small gold ring. Taller than average girls her age. Blacker than black midnight blue eyes, regular features honed with astute intelligence which set her apart from the crowd. She had this coltish look about her that made everyone aware of her presence. Her arrival made everyone around her keen to listen to whatever she has to say.

“Not again Ananya, not now” Amit gritted his teeth.

“Why can’t Priya come out Ani darling?” Komal patronized, openly interested to know what is happening under this facade of a family party.

“The name is Ananya, Komal Aunty, not Ani. And oh mom cannot come out because she is chumming. Sheis on the first day of her periods. You know those unbearable abdominal cramps one gets. Mom is having those cramps, and she could not cook for you guys. So dad please order food from a five-star restaurant to feed your guests. Excuse me.”

Ananya knew she had dropped a bomb by the eerie silence that followed after her monologue.

The rebellious girl felt victorious.

“Ananya how can you talk like this about your mother in front of so many males sitting here?” Namrata was visibly scandalized.

“Why Namrata Aunty, you do not have your periods or have you hit the menopause stage already?” sarcasm was heavily dripping from each and every word Ananya spoke,

“And Parag uncle, being married to you for so many years do not know what periods is? If he is unaware, I can enlighten him, anytime, it will be my pleasure!” 

“Amit your daughter is a total rebel. She has no decency, no courtesy, and she is talking about these things openly! How come Priya has not taught her not to talk about, you know, such things in front of everyone?” Nafisa almost choked on her scotch.

“Nafisa Aunty, I heard you stayed in London for quite some time, right? Dad always berates mom giving your example like how well-groomed you are, your eloquent Brit accent, your fashion sense, but alas what do I say? Under all this gloss and pretense lies an ugly medieval, primitive and gothic human being.

Why should I not talk about something which is only natural? As natural as peeing, shitting, sneezing, eating, breathing? This is how a female body works; this is how female anatomy has been designed, so why do you think it is indecent to talk about it? My mother is in the first day of her monthly menstrual cycle, naturally her hormones are not in her control, she is not feeling like to get up or dress up and entertain you all today, she is actually sleeping after popping in a pain killer because every month she goes through this excruciating pain on her first day of chums.

Are my words crystal clear to all of you?”

Ananya prepared to leave, but Komal butted in “Ananya, we all know how it is to, you know what I mean. But that does not mean Priya can’t come out for a while, after all, she is the hostess.”

“I don’t understand what you meant when you said “you know what I mean”, if you meant periods, then being a woman Komal aunty you should be the first person to understand what mom is going through.

You run an NGO, help women, you think shouting and screaming at the rallies demanding for the rights of women make you a sensitive person. Forget being a sensitive woman, you are not even a sensitive human being! You are not even honest to your cause, I pity you Komal aunty, truly.”

“Ananya just shut up and leave.

I am coming inside to fetch Priya, she is sleeping you said, not dead, so she can come out,” Amit bellowed.

“Don’t you dare go inside dad, don’t you dare talk about my mother like that” the stone-chipped voice of his daughter infuriated Amit and he raised his hands to slap the girl to bring her back to senses.

The slap never landed on her cheeks. His hand was caught in the mid-air by Arya, his fourteen-year-old son. Amit looked in stupefaction, horrified at the temerity of his children in front of his friends.

“Don’t make that mistake dad, do not raise your hands on Di, I won’t stand and watch I can promise you that,” Arya was an introverted teen. He was endowed with keen perseverance and a strong sense of right and wrong, moral and immoral, like his elder sister.

“Your kids are out of your hands Amit

Ananya is downright uncouth and foul-mouthed, talking about these dirty secrets of ladies in front of us, and Arya, sweet Jesus he too is following her footsteps” Parag took a large sip of his drink and passed on his words of wisdom to his friend who was shaking in a murderous rage.

Ananya turned to face Parag, “Uncouth you said Parag uncle? Foul-mouthed? Dirty secrets? How about this little piece of secret I will share now with everyone here that three years back on Sriya’s birthday party you were sloshed out of your mind and came on hard on me, yanked me to a room of Anshu Uncle’s large mansion and was almost about to jam your lips on mine?

You remember that night I hope Parag Uncle?

So which is dirtier, filthier?

Your act of trying to molest me or the information that my mom has her periods like every other woman on this planet and wants to rest for this evening? Yes Parag uncle, do I get my answer?”

“How come you never told me Ananya that this lewd piece of shit tried his hands on you?” Amit demanded looking at the deadpanned expression of Parag and Namrata Desai.

“Because dad, that night this lewd piece of shit gave me very interesting yet raunchy information which shook me to the core and I thought I could not come running to another crude ribald person to complain about the other!”

“What do you mean?” dark red spots were forming on Amit Jindal’s fare florid plump cheeks.

“You still need me to spell it out?

Well, if you insist, you are sleeping with Nafisa Aunty for the last four years on a regular basis. Am I right Nafisa Aunty? What lured you into bed with her dad? Is it her Brit accent? Her backless dresses? Her botoxed face sans any wrinkles? What that you decided to cheat on mom? Your wife of twenty two years?”

“Now this is getting out of hands Amit, this girl is humiliating all of us here, she has gone completely crazy, lock her up in a room!” Nafisa got up angrily and tried to move out of the place.

“Sit down Nafisa Aunty, I am not yet done.

Iqbal uncle, you are a nice man, by these standards, I am really sorry I had to be the one to let you know about the philandering nature of your wifey pie, but you can check yourself if you don’t trust me.

The husband is always the last one to know.

I will give you the name of that seven-star hotel of the city and the resort in the outskirts which are their makeshift love nests. The rooms or the cottages might not be booked under my father’s name, he is connected you know, but you can show their pictures and the staff will comply. And why take the effort, just look at their faces, their expressions will tell you the tales of their lustful rendezvous. I am truly sorry for you and Atif, Iqbal uncle.”

“This girl has no dignity, no respect for elders, talking nonsense nonstop, had she been my daughter I would have slapped her right across her face for this kind of nasty, classless behavior” Anshu Mehra suggested.

“Don’t talk about dignity Anshu uncle and don’t teach me what class is. Your gorgeous wife, Komal Mehra flirts outrageously with young boys of Sriya’s age, at her own daughter’s parties, well if and when she is available to attend those, but she makes herself available to look for her new conquest each time your daughter throws a party at your place.

By the way, Komal aunty who is your latest toy boy?

Akashdeep Kapoor, I believe. Well, that’s kind of cradle snatching, wow some class and dignity your acclaimed women rights activist and celebrated socialite wife has Anshu uncle!”

Komal Mehra’s face paled and was bleached white under all that veneer of imported make up as her husband gazed at her with a piercing glare.

“I can’t believe this Komal, I can’t”

Anshu Mehra said in a broken voice.

“You would better Anshu Uncle and oh one more thing Sriya is into snorting coke, she is underage and regularly visits Club 21, she has a membership there, courtesy her mother. Stop her before she spoils her life, she needs time from her parents and not bribe in the form of luxury.”

“Where is Sriya Ananya?” Anshu asked while Komal sat with her head hung in shame.

“Last seen, she was engaged in a steamy necking session with Atif in the terrace” came Ananya’s brittle reply.

“What a whore! Spoiling my innocent son, drag her inside like right now Komal” barked Nafisa, all charged up now that the entire spotlight was on Komal and her daughter.

“Look who is talking Nafisa! You are calling my baby daughter a whore? You of all people? At least she is not sleeping with someone else’s husband on a regular basis.

you are and that makes you a whore.

And my daughter is not in that act alone, your son too is there, like mother like son, outstanding gene pool, I should say” Komal Mehra retorted back.

Soumi Bhattacharya
I am an archer by birth. Adventure, fun, and positivity come naturally to me. Writing has always been my call. I have done MBA from Manipal University, and also hold a masters degree in Commerce from Annamalai University. The writer within me never let me sit peacefully during my Corporate days. Finally, I answered the call and took up writing as a career. Writing rejuvenates me and sets me free. My husband is my best friend and biggest critic. My eight years old bundle of joy is my greatest responsibility.

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