Today, my Billo wore a yellow salwar kameez.

She has stopped wearing jean pants and t-shirts now. Now, she dresses just like the way I like her to. Like my Billo begum should. In salwar kameez.

She is a naughty girl, my Billo begum. Even in salwar kameez, I can see her hafooz mango breasts bulging out. And uff that kamar. And when she shakes her hips as she walks, I follow.

I will follow my Billo begum to the ends of the earth. What is the distance from Shivaji Nagar to Vasanth Nagar? Nothing. Nothing at all for Mohsin Khan al Jazeera. I will leave my Khan’s Hallal Cut meat dukaan with my boys and follow her till Vasanth Nagar every day. Kabhi on my bike, kabhi in Salim’s auto, kabhi toh walking. Today walk karthoso my Billo begum.

So when I walk behind her, I sing Daffo-dill. Poetry, sabhich girls like poetry. Nothing like Urdu poetry. But I don’t know if Billo begum understands Urdu. I don’t think she does. Today she is wearing a yellow bindi also. Small, from far, when she got off the bus in Shivajinagar bus stop, I didn’t dekhaich. But then, I saw her face closely once when she passed my dukaan, and it was there. So I walked behind her.

Uff, kya ada. How she moves her feet, you know. Opposite Hotel Harsha, there was a puddle. She just leaped over it in the last second. My heart faston bhagtaich, no? How those hafooz mango boobs of Billo begum jumped. What I wouldn’t do to just press against them. Once. Ekich baar kafi. Once is enough.

Her pace has quickened. Billo begum saw me. Nowadays she recognises me.

How fast can you walk my Billo on that muddy pavement? And on Cunningham Road tu kidhar ko fast jaathiso? She is muttering something I cannot hear. So I walk faster. And this time I am singing Daffo-dil loudly. After all, I have a graduation in BA (Political Science) from RBNMS. Just like that only I am not saying, no? Let her know, I am not some roadside romeoso.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Daffo-dill. Daffo-dill. Daffo-dill.

Salim chacha who sells beedi and cigarettes on Cunningham Road pavement waves at me. I ignore him. Billo begum shouldn’t know I smoke beedi. Billo begum should see me as a hero. I walk faster. There, before the mall, there is a crowd gathered. Some thief stole some Aunty ka purse and the woman is crying. Nautankiso. But I get my chance.

Billo begum has stopped in the crowd. Not to see. Meri Billo begum is not curious. Item matlab khaasich woh. But she cannot walk ahead because of the crowd. She tries to cross the road but she cannot because of the traffic. I see my chance. I clasp her waist today. I have done it. For one second,Β I can feel the heat of the mango boob under my fingers, and the soft mulayum mulayum kamar. I clutch. Because I am playful loverso, I pinch her waist.

Billo begum lets out a scream to rival purse lost Aunty. Everyone looks at her. And at me. She holds my hand tightly. Englishan baatein karti unhi. I understand English. But not Mount Carmel College level English. I am sweating. Billo begum is holding my hand yesich jaise she won’t let go. Jaise nikaah huinso. I am muttering Daffo-dill when a man pulls me off from Billo begum.

Magane, tikka kobbu jaasti ayitheno? Hindu hudugige line haakakke noodthiya?

Billo begum Kannada bolti. New thing I learnt about Billo begum today. “Sir, nodi, everyday he follows me, Sir. I cannot go to college because he follows. Shivajinagar inda college thanka some song haadtha nan hinde ne barthane. Please Sir, help maadi.”

And they all start beating me. Billo begum also beats me with sandal. Sandal ka white heel aisa sar ko baitha, ya Allah. But I am smiling. Happy loverso, hami. They are still beating me. Finally, they get tired. Billo begum has escaped in all this beating. I try to move. A constable hits me with a lathi. Saala chutiya constable. Next time, I won’t give him free halal cut dukaanso. But I manage to sit up. I cannot see from one eye. But other is fine. Tip-top abhibhi. I try to stand. I find that I can. With a little limp. Saala pairich toota. But I am heroich. Shah Rukh kya cheezo, hamich bada Khan. Mohsin Khan. Superstar. I limp to the meat shop. Put some ice cold halal cut on the wounds.Β Ekich din mein hum tiptop hotaso.

I sleep.

Billo begum will wear a pink salwar tomorrow. I know. Kal Wednesday ho. Billo Begum wears pink on Wednesday.

Tomorrow, I will try to let her feel my dill.

Ek dum pukka.

Lovers must be equalso.

A piece written in answer to the challenge Moral Twist on ode.la. I think I did okay. πŸ™‚
Moral Twist: Write a story about a character who is doing or thinking something that your own moral compass does not agree with. The trick is to write the story having empathy for your character, putting yourself in his/her shoes even if you think their actions or thoughts are pure evil.


About Bhumika's Boudoir

I love to laugh, and end up being a part of high drama and stormy emotion even when I don't pursue it. Being creative, and communicating with people get me going. I enjoy all the good things in life especially those that are slightly risque, and apologise little, if ever, for all that I do. Literature is a passion and so is music.
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11 Responses to Daffo-dill

  1. Ch4 says:

    Brilliant.You. That’s all.


  2. Srikant says:

    I loved it. At first I thought you were talking about yourself. That makes it a winner.
    Btw, If I had a chance to submit mine, it would be this: http://crash-kid.blogspot.sg/search/label/Shortstories (The Other Love…1, 2 & 3)


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