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I had been there at station to pick her. For the first few days’ mercy was busy doing house hold chores and cleaning up the mess i had made up during the last one year. I have the habit of going for natural call in the dense teak plantation of our house. It was Monday evening, I had gone for natural call and was sitting at an isolated place behind a teak tree humming my favorite song, when i heard foot steps of some one nearing me. I peeked through the leaves of teak tree and found my mom approaching towards me.She did not notice me. She was wearing a saree and was looking awesome in it. I thought she must be watching the beauty of the dense teak plantations and humming of the evening birds passing by. At around 10 meters from me, she turned around, lifted her petticoat and saree and sat down. Now I realized she must be here to urinate! But the site was one of the most titillating experience of my life. As she lifted her saree and petticoat i got a glimpse of her milky white thighs. Though sober, their inebriation infected us. With childhood a fresh memory, we could join the childish chorus. When the biggest slob and the best artist tried making time with the princess, I told him she was jailbait. "Jailbait?" he yelled in mock fear. The chorus took up the word and we repeated it loudly, pounding the rhythm with the many empty glasses. When it quieted, he invited his friend, a Dutchman of great promise to sit with us. The best of the artists asked the princess how we knew the Estonian. She told him of our discussions. He began to cry. "He was such a lovely man. I should have been there. We talked one time. It was wonderful. Why weren't we there?" he asked his friend. The Dutchman stared at the princess. "Do you model?" he asked. "Not for artists," she said. "You don't like artists?" he asked. "Not tonight," she said. We laughed. "I'll be good," said the Dutchman. "Otherwise my wife would kill me." "You only paint your wife," said the best of the artists. "The way.
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