Sexual Favous for a Signature - My short story in Dinamalar

Originally Posted by varalotti

Dear TDU,
Amazed to see the kind of work Ms. Sheela Ramanathan is doing on the women's front. We writers do only half the job. We write, talk, make a noise and try our level best to raise the awareness of our people. It is given to people like Sheila Ramanathan to take up the matter further and actually deliver the goods.
Hats off to her.
I went through the links and found her work awesome. May be if your wife can spare some time to give our ladies some practical hints on this sensitive subject, it will be very kind of her.
thanks once again,
regards,

Dear Varalotti,

Thanks for your compliments and I shall pass them on to her. I will certainly try to bring her into this forum. Meanwhile, I have given a link (in reply to Shanti's post) to an important article on the subject from 'Combat Law' journal in which she is in the editorial board.

Regards,

TDU

dear sridhar,
yet again a masterpiece from u.......
a perfect example of today's world!!!!.i was really missing these short stories here but u have bought it to my doorstep.thank u so much and please keep writing.
regards
pavithra

dear pavithra,
thanks for the nice words. Of late sexual harrassment at workplace has been increasing here in India at geometric propotions. Everyone here sees his female colleague as an object of pleasure.
At least if the act occurs between consenting adults, we can ignore it as just plain immorality. But harrassment is a crime. I am happy that you enjoyed the story Pavithra.
regards,

Dear Sridhar,

I follow all your posts in IL but when i opend the link here to the story felt very sad that its in Tamil, which i cannot read, and later on reading some posts by our fellow IL's asking you to write in English, i felt happy.

Take your time and please do post it in English.

cheers
sreelatha

Dear Sreelatha,
I have actually started doing the translation. Will finish it in a day or two and post the entire story here in this thread.
regards,

Dear Sridhar,
You had sent a link in my personal mail but that turned out to be greek and latin, I mean the fonts! Any way that was the one I read in D.M Vaaramalar. I had mentioned about it in my mail.Any way, thanks for forwarding the link. I liked the story very much and as I mentioned , I am looking forward to your next story in the coming week.
Regards,
Malathi

Dear All,
There have been many messages both in the forum and in my message box requesting to post the translation of this story.

Well with the kind of professional work I have during this season, I could not even dream of it. Then I thought may be I can make an attempt at it this weekend.

But an hour-long personal appointment got cancelled all of a sudden this evening. I used that time to do the translation.

So Bindu, sreelatha and ruchi and others who wanted the translation but did not mention it, here you go.

Now read the story in full and give your comments.

regards,

Sexual Favours For A Signature

A Short Story By Varalotti Rengasamy

“About your children, Mr.Durai?”

An young reporter questioned the celebrity furtively. The celebrity who was answering all the earlier questions with a kind of extreme confidence bordering on arrogance, now lowered his voice and told her softly:

“Only daughter. Name, Kunthavai. She is everything to me. She is doing her doctorate in Clinical Psychology.”

The celebrity, Durai, was an acclaimed Director of TV Serials. His serials enjoyed the highest TRP rating in the State. He was an expert in making people cry with his family soaps, a much wanted man in the industry who commanded a reputation and earnings which was the envy of his counterparts in the cine-field.

A private TV channel had organised a Felicitation for Durai and he was attending a press meet immediately thereafter

Once thoughts about his only daughter came flowing in he did not have the mind to continue with that bland press meet. After answering another insipid question, he ended the meet.

“Kunthavai….. Kunthavai…”

In response to Durai’s frantic call his wife came from the kitchen.

“What’s she doing ?”

That was his usual question whenever he came home from work everyday.

There was a marked concern in his wife’s voice.

“Sleeping. She was restlessly waiting for you till now. Was telling that she had to discuss something so badly with you. She tried to reach you in your mobile. But..”

“Cut that stuff. Come, let’s go and find out what she wants.”

“No, not now. She has been telling me that she is damn tired. Did not even eat her dinner. Has gone to bed and is now fast asleep. Why can’t you discuss that tomorrow morning? Hope you do not have an early morning shooting schedule.”

“I do have. But it can wait. I will talk to her first and then go out.”

Durai punched some numbers on his mobile and started issuing commands to his deputies.



It was just seven in the morning. Durai’s impatience was obvious. He had one eye on the newspaper and another on the door of Kunthavai’s room.
When he saw his tall, beautiful daughter walking out of the room, he was all smiles. Kunthavai too reciprocated his smile.

“You wanted to talk with your Dad, darling? Is it about the Honda Car I have promised you last month? Or shall we go ahead and buy that diamond jewellery which we saw in Prince Jewellery two days back?”

Kunthavai’s face fell. Durai’s heart skipped a beat.

“No, Dad. This is something serious. Dad… Dad… I am in a … kind of … a trap. I am being threatened… Dad….”

“What happened dear?” Durai tossed the newspaper to the floor and stood up.

“Ush…” Kunthavai placed her finger on her lips, with her eyes pointing the kitchen.

“Not so loud, Dad. Mom need not know it. Why don’t we go to the garden and talk.”

Without waiting for her father’s consent she walked into the garden through the large French Window in the drawing room. Durai followed his daughter.

Kunthavai started to talk in a whisper.

“Dad, you have to control yourself. Don’t get worked up on this. OK?”

Kunthavai’s prelude served only to get him worked up faster.

“Dad, in another two months I will finish my dissertation. Then they will examine that, interview me and award me the Doctorate.”

“Good news. I am very proud of you, dear. What’s the problem…”

“Please wait, Dad. You know the academic system. My guide should read my thesis and should write a few good words about it and sign it. Then only it will be taken up for assessment.”

“So what…”

“Cool, Dad, Cool. Please. Professor Balakrishnan is my guide. His guidance has been really valuable. He helped me in the choice of the subject. He guided me as to how should I do the research. And whenever I got stuck-up he was there to help. But… but…. But.. now.. he …. Is..”

“Come on. Make it fast girl. You drag for one more minute, I will spit my heart out.”

“But now he has named a price for endorsing my thesis.”

“Phew… that’s nothing to worry, dear. We have to be a Roman in Rome. How much does he expect? I will pay him double, why, three times the amount he normally gets from the other students. Will a hundred thousand be okay, darling?”

“Oh, Dad. It’s not the money. It is something else.”

Durai froze in his place.

“What the hell does he want?”

“He wants me…. Wants me… .. to stay … with him … at a hotel in… Mahabalipuram… for a night.”

“Bastard. Scoundrel. Loafer. Leave him to me, dear. I will tear him to pieces. I will kill him rightaway. What the hell is he thinking? I don’t even need to go. With just a call I can have my men finish him in no time. Kunthavai, this is pretty serious. I am going to make petition to the DIG of Police, the CM’s Special Cell, the CBCID…”

Durai was picking up bits and pieces from the dialogues he wrote for the last episode of his popular serial.

Kunthavai was too shocked to respond. After what seemed to be an eternity, a shivering Kunthavai almost whispered to his father.

“Dad, let’s not get into any kind of violence. Then you will be caught in a criminal case. Will you just listen to me? Please come with me to that rascal’s house. In my presence you lift that fellow up by his shirt collar and ask him how dare he talked like that to your daughter.

“That’s more than enough for me, Dad. Even if I don’t get my Ph.D., it does not matter.”

“Give me a minute to change my dress.”

Kunthavai also went for a change of dress.

The moment Durai was alone he went to his iron safe hidden inside his wardrobe and pulled out a revolver. He opened it to check if had enough bullets in it. He clicked it close and placed it inside his jacket. He did not tell Kunthavai about his carrying a weapon.

Both the father and the daughter came out to the portico at the same time. A driver who was standing aside came running to them. Durai waved him aside and jumped into the largest of the cars parked in his driveway, a Honda Accord.

Kunthavai got into the passenger seat and soon they were on the main road.

“His house is in Velachery.”

Durai was going at break-neck speed.


“What do you think, Dad? What that fellow has done is wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why should you have doubt on that, Kunthavai? You should be his daughter’s age. And if he is trying to misbehave with you…. well, if he had done something similar in an Arab country , his punishment will be…”

Durai checked himself midsentence.

“If he asks a student like this and if the student’s parents come to know of that, what kind of torture will it be for them? As a professor, should he not know that?”

Kunthavai was now fanning the fire in her father’s heart. Durai implusively felt the weapon in his jacket.

Kunthavai continued to inflame him even more.

“In my view Dad, the correct punishment for that rascal is, that someone should ask the same question to his daughter. And his daughter should come crying to him as I have come to you.”

For the first time Durai wore a puzzled look.

“Does he have a daughter?”

“Yes, Dad. She is exactly of my age.”

“Oh.”

“And you know the irony of the situation? “

“ “

“This man has got his punishment even before he committed the crime.”

“What are you saying, Kunthavai?”

“Yes, Dad. It’s true. A rogue has asked his daughter the same question. And that rogue asked that question to his daughter, even before he asked me. Is it not funny, Dad?”

Durai was shocked. The car came to a skidding halt. The vehicles in the rear started to sound their horns. Durai swerved the car to the left and looked askance at his daughter.

“What the hell are you talking, Kunthavai?”

“Truth, Dad, nothing but the bitther, harsh truth. Professor Balakrishnan’s daughter wanted to act in TV serials. She went for an audition yesterday. The Director shot her from various angles and had finally told her that she was not good enough. She was sad and was about to leave the place. One of the Director’s assistants came running to her. He told her in so many words that if she was prepared to sleep with the Director that afternoon, she would be booked in the next serial. She ran away from the scene with tears.”

“But you know Dad, her father did not jump in anger like you did. He calmly told his daughter, that she had to keep away from those places, if she wanted to be good. He did not show his emotions, Dad. But he should have suffered a real hell inside. And you know better, because you have been suffering the same hell for the past one hour.”

“ “

“Yes, Dad. I told my friend Gayathri that the scoundrel who demanded sexual favours for an acting role was none other than my wonderful father. You know what I did, Dad? I fell at her feet and at her parents’ feet and begged their forgiveness.”

“Dad, that Professor Balakrishnan, has a heart of gold. He has been treating me like his daughter. On many nights we have been alone in his room working on my thesis. Never has he crossed his limits. He did not see me any different from his daughter, Gayathri. I just lied to make you understand the gravity of your crime.”

Durai did not have the heart to lift his head and see his daughter’s face. He was focussing on a dust particle in the floor mat of the car. Uncomfortable silence reigned for a while.

Durai started the vehicle and attempted to make an U-turn to go back to their house.

“What are you doing, Dad?”

“I am sorry, Kunthavai. I wont let this happen again.”

“Dad this is not the TV serial you are directing, where villain gets reformed in a single line of dialogue and some pleasant background music. This is real life, Dad. Listen to me. We are now going to Professor Balakrishnan’s house. You are apologising to the entire family in my presence. And you should promise on your only daughter that this will not happen again. If you do not agree to this, have a good look at me. This will be last time you will be seeing your only daughter. Goodbye.”

Kunthavai tried to get down from the car. Durai stopped her. Kunthavai looked at her Dad’s face.

The famous TV Director who used to teach his actors and actresses how to cry, the popular TV Director who had made millions of viewers cry every week was now weeping shamelessly.

He was too emotional to speak. He held Kunthavai’s hand tightly. He signalled to her that he would do as bidden.

The Accord resumed its journey to the Professor’s house in Velachery.