That’s fine, she said
Put on the lipstick, she said.
Throw on the black
Shawl,
she said.
Let me
become
Maya, she
said.
Alia
looked into the mirror
Contoured
the lipstick on
Her thin
lips.
The black
shawl on her bare shoulders
A dress,
maroon silk,
On her
brown skin.
Kohl
lined her big eyes.
She
became
Maya,
illusion.
A mirage
of love
Of desire
A barely
audible
Whisper
of a voice
From
loudmouth Alia
To soft
spoken Maya.
Alia
looked into herself
Found no
void
Felt her
throat fill up
No tears
just
A need
A desire she
kept
Like the
ones she created
Danger
In every
move
The
border was always near.
Lower her
eyes,
Slowly
look up
Into the
salivating face
Touch the
bulbous cheek
With a
perfumed finger
Playfully.
Tell me
more, she said
Of all
your conquests,
Why,
you’re a great man, she said.
The
drivel flowed, she feigned interest.
Sighed
and ooh-ed
Looked
into his eyes,
Shy coy
all the
Deadly
ingredients of a terrible
Monster.
Alia
looked into her wine glass
Maya
played on.
Alia
thought of home
Maya
conquered distant lands.
Alia
yearned for sleep
Maya
wanted more
Alia was
unsure, scared
Maya was
certain, victory was hers.
Oh you
were the man behind it all
Maya said
Why yes I
was, he said
Those
were the days
He
reminisced.
You’re
still in your prime she said.
You flatter
me well, butterfly
He said
I was
drawn to you, sir,
She said
Were you?
He said
His eyes
glazed over
Hungry
and vacant
He
thought he was the hunter
Poor
pompous fool
Diana was
never hunted.
Don’t
stop the wine, she said
Join me
for another she said.
Why of
course, darling, he said
She
poured him a glass
Her
perfumed finger touched
His
accidentally, of course.
Alia
looked on
The
drunken fool
Trapped
in a wire
Perfumed
with the scent of
Parisian
cherry blossoms.
She was
lost, Maya played on
Alia was afraid
Maya was
bold confident of success.
Alia saw
Maya slip a perfumed
Hand into
the fool’s coat
She was shocked,
tried to
Look away
but was intrigued
Maya played
on, one hand caressed
The plump
cheeks
The other
dug deeper into the coat
Maya drew
out her hand
A slim
folder barely
Bigger than
a wallet
In her
palm
And a
smile on her face.
And then I
commanded them to move away
He slurred
on
Oh really
now did you she said
Yes and the
tribal men they’re
Nastier than
you think
Big men
built on boar meat
And…
I must go
to the ladies she said
Yes yes
of course butterfly
Of course
he said.
That’s fine, she said
Take off the lipstick, she said.
Throw on the white
shirt, she said.
Let me become
Alia, she said.
Maya looked into the mirror
Wiped the lipstick off
Her thin lips.
The black shawl on her bare shoulders
Fell to the ground
A shirt, white cotton,
Covered her brown skin.
Jeans, the tightest wound
Around her slender thighs
Kohl lined her big eyes.
She looked
at her palm
The slim
folder brilliant
In its
dull dark blue
She smiled.
Pulled on
her black blazer
The folder
went in
She walked
out
Into the
cold Delhi
Night.