This is not fiction. The names of the people involved, including mine, have been changed for obvious reasons. But believe me, it is all true, though it happened a long time ago, when I was just a kid. Although I am a rich businessman now, I come from a very poor family. I was the only child of my parents. My father owned a tea-shop in a suburban area of Kerala. We lived in a small house behind the tea-shop. My parents worked hard to make both ends meet. Since they were fairly educated people and understood the value of education well, they had high ambitions regarding my own education. I was not bad at studies. Though I was an only child, I was not a spoiled one. I was very obedient to my parents. Looking back, I think that we were a happy family, despite our poverty.
Then things began to change for us. My father fell ill seriously and, after remaining bedridden for nearly a year, he died. I was only twelve then. After his death, my mother tried to run our tea-shop alone. But she soon found out that she could not do it on her own. I suggested to her that I could stop going to school and help her in the tea-shop. But she would not allow that, even though our financial condition was fast becoming from bad to worse. During my father’s long illness, we had to borrow a lot of money from our friends and relatives. They were now coming to our house almost everyday and demanding their money back. It was during this time that a woman in our neighbourhood told my mother that an old couple in our locality were looking for a servant-woman who could do all the household work and take care of them by staying with them in their house. My mother and I went to see this old couple. We found that they were in their sixties. The old man, who was called Vasu, was a retired school-teacher. His wife’s name was Parvathiamma. They had a son and a daughter who were now married and were living abroad with their respective families. Vasu and Parvathiamma wanted to know if my mother had any previous experience of working as a servant-woman. When my mother told them that she had the experience of running a tea-shop for more than ten years, they were more than satisfied and were ready to take my mother in as the servant-woman of their house. They warned her that she would have to do all the work alone without any complaints. My mother agreed. Thus we started a new life. To clear all our debts, my mother sold the tea-shop and our house and we moved into the house of the old couple. It was not a big house. It was a rather old-fashioned house.
We were given a small room behind the kitchen to live in. The old couple seemed to be good people. Parvathiamma was initially a little reserved when she talked with my mother. But when she saw that my mother was a good and hard-working woman, she became quite attached to her. The old woman was a very talkative type. But she was ill most of the time. So my mother had to take good care of her. Vasu, on the other hand, was a quiet man. He hardly opened his mouth in the house. But he seemed to be kind hearted. Since he had been a school-teacher, I would often take his help with my lessons. He was always eager to help. My mother was thankful to him for that. The old couple did not have many visitors in their house, therefore they valued our company very much. Most of what my mother earned as salary was spent on my education. Often it was not enough. Sometimes when I asked for money to buy books or other things she would borrow from Parvathiamma. Parvathiamma would tell her that the borrowed amount would be cut from her next month’s salary. But often my mother would get the full salary itself; the old woman would ask her to forget the money she had borrowed. The old woman was kind to my mother in many other ways also. Often, when her children sent her presents from abroad, she would give something or the other to my mother. I used to wonder why she was being so kind to us. But soon Parvathiamma was to ask something from my mother in return for all the kindness she was showering on us. One day I was in my room studying for my exams. My mother was in the kitchen. Parvathiamma came to the kitchen and struck a conversation with my mother. At first I was not paying any attention to what she was talking. Then when I realized that she was discussing Vasu’s sex life, I naturally began to listen attentively. The old woman was saying that in his youth her husband had been rather shy. He had not taken much interest in sexual activities. It was only after their children had grown up that he began to show a keen desire for sex. And now, even in his old age he was showing a wild interest in sex which, she said, was very embarrassing. She said that she felt pity for the poor man because he had failed to enjoy himself fully during his “best times”.”
What can I do?” she told my mother.” At my age I cannot satisfy his hunger. Moreover, he does no desire me at all. I feel sorry for him.” Here she paused. Then she said to my mother,”You can help him.” There was another pause. Then she told my mother in very plain words that she could help him by having sex with him. My heart was beating wildly when heard this. I was waiting with abated breath to see how my mother was going to react. She was undoubtedly shocked to hear this, just like me. There was silence for a few moments from her part. Then she told Parvathiamma that she could not even think of doing it, that it was a sin and the gods would never forgive her. To my amazement the old woman became quite angry. She reminded my mother of the many times she had helped her. She called my mother a thankless woman. Then she suddenly started to cry. She told my mother that she was ready to fall on her feet. “I can’t bear to see him suffer”, she said, weeping.”That’s why I’m begging you. He cannot do it with an outside woman, because then somehow people will know. You live in our house. You are not an outsider. So there is no danger of anybody finding out. Besides, at his age do you think that he will be very demanding? Just let him hold you once in a while. That’s all.” She kept on talking like this obstinately and eventually my mother was forced to say yes to her strange request. Parvathiamma was overjoyed. She thanked my mother again and again. Then she said, “I will send him to your room tonight, after Hari is asleep.” I was fourteen when this happened. At that time I had already started experimenting with sex. I used to talk a lot about sex with my friends and we also used to watch a lot of adult movies in the local theatres. But none of us - at least, not me - had ever seen a blue film. It was my greatest desire to see a blue film. My mother was in her late thirties at that time.
She was a very beautiful woman with a wheaty complexion and a body which was the dream of every man. At my age I was very much aware of the sensuality of her body. We shared a single room and it was impossible for me to turn a blind eye to her voluptuous figure. I used to feel very guilty when I found myself eying at her large breasts, her midriff, her deep navel. But she was not at all aware of my feelings. She thought that I was still a small kid. Sometimes she would change her sari standing right in front of me. And I already knew that Vasu had an eye on her. Although he hardly talked with my mother, I had so many times seen him gazing at her body longingly. That night mother was very silent. She was very thoughtful while we were having our dinner in the kitchen. After eating, we entered our room. There were two cots in the room, put close together. I slept on one - on the one next to the wall - and my mother slept on the other. The room was very small. Most of the floor area was taken up by the cots. I laid down. She also laid down after switching off the light. “Hari, have you studied everything for your exam tomorrow?” she asked me now. “Yes, amma,” I replied. Then silence fell in our room. The window was open and silvery moonlight was flooding into the room. I was not going to sleep. My young mind was almost bursting with anticipation and excitement. The clock in the drawing room of the house struck ten. A moment later Vasu knocked at the door and called my mother’s name softly. My mother sat up. She looked at me. I did not move a muscle. I was lying wide awake with one arm placed on my forehead. She could not see my eyes. But I was afraid that she might hear my rapid heartbeats. When she felt sure that I was asleep, she got up and opened the door. Vasu looked at her briefly and stepped in. “Hari is sleeping?” he asked. “Yes,” my mother replied. He looked nervous. “I am not able to sleep”, he said. He slowly paced up to window. Then he said, in a slightly shaking voice, ”I have a slight headache.
Can I lie down here for a while?” She did not reply. Nevertheless, he sat down and slowly laid down on her cot. He was wearing only his mundu. His torso was bare. Though Vasu was old he had a fairly healthy body. He was a stout man with a large belly. His chest was very hairy. He looked at my mother who was standing near the door not knowing what to do. “Come,” he said,” you also lie down.” My mother hesitated. Then she stepped closer to the cot. He shifted his position to the edge of the cot. ”Lie here”, he said, patting gently to indicate that he wanted her to lie between him and me. For some reason he wanted to lie at the edge. This position suited me also, because if he was to lie between me and my mother then I would not be able to see what he was going to do to her. My mother climbed on the cot at the foot and moved on all fours to reach him. Her sari slid off her shoulder, revealing her big, round tits, packed tightly in her white blouse. The sight of the two breasts seemed to freeze Vasu with excitement for a brief moment. My mother covered herself again and reclined gently, resting her head on the pillow, a little away from him.