The Man From Denver – II

The familiar knock – taps with increasing order of intensity – tyak, Tyak, TYak, TYAk – until the last, the 5th – TYAKK – on his door was enough to lasciviously excite Lokesh in a way that only Puja could. These surreptitious late matinees were getting much more attention from both of them lately; especially beginning from the time Puja had found out from Lokesh what they were not going to do – spend their life together. Her being a college lecturer – an intellectual of sorts – an understanding intellectual of a modern, scooty riding Nepali woman with a few boyfriends under her belt theretofore, had left her with barely enough room to whine over their little shindigs which in all its premarital glory would not be in existence if social norms were to religiously be followed after her upcoming wedlock; though Puja would be lying if she told you that a potential dig at infidelity didn’t turn her on already.

Lokesh had had his own selfish reasons and they were the usual: fear of commitment, pressures of loyalty and the big one – lack of funds to guarantee a happy Puja; so yes, the fear that she would tire of his wayward and broke lifestyle was also a reason that had hindered him from taking the humungous leap forward. You see – Lokesh would rather bang someone else’s wife than it being the other way around. He’d seen enough movies in his 27, short years of life to scare the fuck out of him where the hot wife who was married to a loser ended up sleeping on some big-shot’s bed in the first month of a supposedly long and joyous married life (Lokesh loved clichés when they applied to other people). He shuddered at the thought; especially when Puja was the leading lady in those thoughts. He needed just one break. One big sell and it would open the floodgates. What was he not doing right that Surendra was doing? Bloody smooth talking Jhapalis! Fuckers just had a knack for showing teeth all the time. And that ass-kissing accent? If he didn’t own an apartment at Indreni Apartment Complex and a Hyundai i10 by the time he was 30, he would multiple-stab that gasbag son of a bitch and watch him die a slow, painful death.

It was only about 11 months ago that he had heard the most beautiful voice this side of Koshi call him up. She’d wanted to enquire about a patch of land in Tikathali. He’d told her the details – there was no road leading to it but in 2 years time, with the eternal influx of migrants into the valley, the city would have to start digging. The area was quiet and would be a smart investment. Tikathali was the most underrated area in the valley hence the 5 lakh per ana delicious grab. Give it 3 years and see it become another Kapan. Not even 3 actually. Next year, the price would double for sure … He must’ve rambled on for a little more than 5 minutes. All of it, uninterrupted. That – was strange because he had almost forgotten who it was that he was talking to until she’d cleared her throat when he had paused to gather his breath. Sensing an opening, she’d then asked if they could meet so that she could check out the location.