Fetishes of Fantasy
After siesta that evening, Sandhya proposed a walk on the Tank Bund that they agreed to. ‘Let’s walk down,’ said Roopa as they came out. In time, as they reached there, Raja Rao noticed many life- size statues lined at intervals and wished to see them all at close quarters. While they walked past a long row of imposing bronzes of renowned Andhras, installed on granite pedestals, as he read the inspiring inscriptions in gold on them, he marveled, ‘A great idea.’
‘Controversial though,’ said Roopa.
‘How?’ he looked surprised.
‘There was a minor row,’ explained Roopa, ‘raked up in the local press about the advisability of spending millions on them, bringing the schemes for the poor to a grinding halt.’
‘It must be the handiwork of the politicians out of power who itch for mischief,’ articulated Raja Rao, ‘Even if one kid who sees them were to be inspired by the deeds of any of these greats, then the value of that life for the country would countervail the cost of all the statues put together. But why don’t I find Srinatha.’
‘I too find it odd,’ said Roopa, ‘that our kavisarvabhowma is left out.’
‘When Thyagaiah is rightly accorded the pride of place,’ said Sandhya in agreement, ‘ignoring the most romantic of Telugu poets is indeed heartless.’ In time, as they reached the statue of Sir Arthur Cotton, Raja Rao said, ‘It’s a thoughtful gesture to treat this Englishman as our own.’
After a go around as they relaxed on the lawns near the Nannaya’s, the topic turned to culture and literature. ‘The hallmark of greatness is the ability to appreciate the virtues of other peoples and their cultures’,’ said Raja Rao. ‘Are you aware of what Appaiah Dikshitar, the Tamil poet saint said of us Andhras? He felt that to be born an Andhra and to be able to speak Telugu is a boon, which cannot be achieved without much penance. But normally bigotry makes people imagine they are superior to the rest of the peoples put together.’
As it started drizzling by then, they thought of leaving.
‘I like getting drenched,’ said Roopa
‘Me too,’ said Sandhya.
‘It should be exciting,’ said Raja Rao, looking at Roopa.
While they were caught in the pouring rain, they got wet to their roots, and falling behind on purpose, Raja Rao went on devouring Roopa’s figure at its back. In her wet sari that tightly hugged her body, as though to squeeze itself dry, her provocative figure evoked passion in his groins. Her splendid back of tan exposed by the seeming dissolution of her brownish blouse induced in him a craving for kissing her there. Her narrow waist, left uncovered by her dress, enabled him to envision the carnal character of her frame. The slit of her seat, discernible at every step, stepped up his urge for a novel possession of her. As she hitched her sari artfully to part-bare her wondrous legs, their enticing shape enveloped his eyes. And whenever she turned at the street corners, the sight of her heavy breasts wetted by the Act of God whetted his appetite.