The walk home from the station was a short one, the street lights lining up on the sidewalk as sentinels, their orange glow sparkling in the air, shorn off its perennial haze, washed clean by the rain.

The peace and quiet of the midnight hours appealed to me and I loved to listen to it hum. Men fear the night , crammed they believe in dangers they cannot see. I thrive on the night and the freedom it represents. Its music is an expression that reaches unhindered by cacophonic traffic or by bawling pedestrians.

I reached my apartment a little while later, the guard asleep as usual, as I let myself in. Home was a three bedroom flat, perched up on the fifteenth floor. I had it because of its view. The creek was on one side and on really sunny days, you could see the entire New Bombay coastline set in a bay that was once blue. Mangroves lined its coast and during the rains would be deluged in a flood.

I took the old lift up, creaking and cranking all the way. It was stupid. It didn’t even have a laser, you had to push the doors back if it closed up on you, and the noise it made terrified me.

So, it was with a sigh of relief that I got off it when it finally reached the fifteenth floor. I fumbled for the keys as I reached my door. Once inside, it was a surprise to see that all was quiet. The guys it seemed had slept off.

I shared the flat with two others- Leon and Gaurav. Leon was a Goan and Gaurav was from Delhi. They were both working and it seemed they too had a long day. And yeah, our girl friends lived with us too, though they had their own flat on the ninth floor.

I dropped my bag on the floor and walked into my room to the sight of a girl stretched on my bed, lying flat on her stomach, her chin propped up on a pillow, staring into a laptop screen. The light from the laptop was all the light in the room, though from the light streaming in through the now open door whence I came, I could make out her silhouette dressed in a little spaghetti and underpants, and nothing else.

Her name is Emily and we had been together for a year now.

I still vividly remember the first time I had seen her. We had doped on an exquisite stash of charas and the world we beheld had sparkled into an explosion of colours. I had gone down to eat and was coming back for another round when I saw her down at the lobby. She had just got off the lift and had stepped into the sun.

I still recall the way her hair dazzled under the sun’s rays and the way she squinted as her eyes adjusted to the brightness before regaining its doe-eyed shape and transfixing on me, as I stared back lost in a gaze so deep that made me dream of a forest lake bright and mysterious under a morning sun.

I had been standing by the door for a while now, lost to the sight of the light bouncing on her curves. And it must have been for a long while because she turned around and asked,

“Long day?”

“Yeah!” I exclaimed. “Very long. I had gone down to the beach after work.” There was a pause before I said,”I am high.”

“I can see that,” she said, turning back to her laptop.

She smoked too and there were few around me who didn’t. However, of late she had developed a cavalier approach to it, ever since she had been going out with a guy from her church group. She suspected I knew it, but I never brought it out in the open. I liked having her around.

“I want you”, I said, my eyes still fixed on her curves, the light dancing on it, attuned to the flickering of the laptop’s screen.

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“I am tired”, she said, not glancing back, completely aware of my gaze.

“I still want you”, I said , sitting down beside her, sliding my hand beneath her dress, feeling her smooth back.

She did not react, emitting an expression of mild resistance, but I knew she wouldn’t stop me. So, in one fluid motion I slid off her underpants and turned her around, giving her no choice but to look back at me, a charitable expression on her striking face.

“Oh all right”, she said, pulling off her top and then proceeding to unclothe me. I suspected she felt an argument at that point would take up more time. Well, I couldn’t care less, I was setting myself up for a mini explosion.

Her body was warm to the touch and her lips sweet. There was no eagerness about her but I knew how to put that right.

The lioness was sleeping in her golden den, deep in the forest. I readied my spear, quivering in anticipation of the hunt, wading through the shrubbery, determined to make the kill.

The lioness roared, she had heard me approach. Slowly she walked out of her den, her tail poised high in the air, sensing my overture as I reached her dominion. She pounced at me as I sidestepped her, jabbing at her golden skin as she passed by me, her crimson blood dripping on my spear.

She retreated, licking the blood off her skin and then began to circle me, roaring in agony, waiting for the right moment to attack. I reached out and began to jab at her but she dodged my every thrust, patiently waiting for her chance.

Drums rolled in the background, their lackeys screeched; the entire forest watched in bated breath, pulsating in the rhythm of the hunt.

Her circling had slowed, she appeared to be tiring down, her strength ebbing out with her blood. Now was my chance, I thought , as I charged at her with all my strength, the spearhead glinting in the sun. But just at the precise moment when I was about to gouge her, she leaped aside with surprising agility, her weakness it seemed had been a ruse, and then pounced, devouring me whole.

I pumped, sweat glistening on my brow as she began to moan, her body gyrating to our union. There was an energy about her now as she gasped in ecstasy tuning to my every beat as I slammed into her, every nerve and fiber of my body propelling me on with the fervour of a bull in heat, going on and on, faster and faster until every sensation of my body converged onto one spot and shot up the shaft as it throbbed for one final almighty heave and a fountain of spurt shot out, gushing forth in unbridled glory.

I rolled off her, tired and spent. I knew she had enjoyed it too.

“I like being with you”, I said, turning back to look at her face, little drops of sweat gleaming on her perfect brow.

She smiled,”I know that”, and got off the bed and into the shower, the room glorified by her naked presence, blushing on her every step.

There had been a time when our passion wouldn’t let us stop holding each other and I had skipped office just because I had not been able to tear myself away from the sight of her naked body cuddled up beside me. But things had cooled, and nights as tonight were not as many as before.

I got off the bed and joined her in the shower. The water was warm and de-stressing, the weariness shedding off me like an old skin. She had been soaping herself, and was soon finishing off, towelling herself dry as she leaned over and gave me a quick kiss before going out.

There I was, encased in the water, the fragrance of her scent hovering all around me. It had indeed been a long day with a pleasant end to the night, and a well earned weekend to look forward to.

Two days with little to stress, dissolved into nonexistence in a vast solution of flavourless days.

“I need a smoke”, I thought; the previous joint had run its course.

I turned the shower off, towelled myself dry and got out. Emily it seemed had got back to watching whatever it was that she had been watching. Outside, the rain continued, relentless in its splattering against the window, highlighted in fitful flashes of sudden lightning streaks.

I reached into my locker and got the last pouch of weed out; I had to remember to get more tomorrow. A single pouch carried enough for three joints. A chillum would reduce that to one.

I got the chillum out and began stuffing it. I was too tired to make a joint and it was time for bed anyway. The chillum would quickly do its work without the nuances of the more gracious and cultivated joint.

“You should sleep. Its four in the morning,” said Emily looking up from her screen, her frown lighted in the laptop’s glow.

“Soon”, I replied, not looking up, “You want?”

“No.”

As you wish, I thought groping for the lighter, finding it and flicking it on.

The smoke was harsh. It clobbered you, which was what I wanted anyway.

The rain was still coming down in pours, as I made my way to the balcony and settled down on the mattress we kept there. I love to watch the rain come down. It always accentuates my highs. The stimulation that every drop generates while falling down flows through the air to me, caressing my soul.

My soul smiled back at me, content in this moment of solitude. The pitter patter of the rains had emboldened him to come out of his shell. He seemed more serene since the last time I had seen him, flitting inside my head in wisps of fleeting glances. His flaming red hair had grown long, swept back from his smooth, angular face.

“How have you been?”, I said to him hoping to elicit some sort of response. But all he would do is smile back, as had been his wont, every time he had graced me with his presence. Nevertheless, his smile always assured me, and sitting side by side, basking in each other’s presence, we watched the rain pour down endlessly filling the air with a fragrance as fresh as heaven itself.