Writing Sample

Drawing the water from the well had proven most fortuitous.  The strain of lifting the pail with his lanky little limbs had caused a stirring in his bowels.  A wave a warmth originating at his navel washed over him loosening his bowels.  ‘Most fortuitous indeed!’ The Pundit Kali Nath had not felt such an urge for a time. The Pundit’s urge for excretion was rivalled only by the strong desire coursing through his hot blood for the sweeper’s daughter.  ‘Most fortuitous indeed!’ he repeated to himself.  ‘What god has rewarded my kismet (fate) with her?  Most fortuitous indeed!  I must remember to offer thanks for such a kismet,’ the priest thought to himself on his walk back to the temple.
	The walk back to the temple from the outcaste colony was quite far.  But the Pundit’s thoughts of imminent relief from constipation and thoughts of Sohini spurred him on.  Every step the priest took heightened his urges.  With every bouncing step that jarred the priest’s rickety frame he could feel the warmth slide lower and lower into his abdomen.  Each step brought him closer to the temple, which in turn brought his thoughts closer to Sohini.  The thought of her translucent muslin shirt highlighting her beady, dark nipples, her lithe supple body, the bangles on her arm contrasting her milky brown skin, all caused the blood to quicken in his veins.  Coursing, hot, sickly-sweet blood rushing with a wave of warmth, giving his frail body a passing vigor.  Strengthening his step, quickening his pace.
	What a sight the Pundit looked!  The passing vigor from his hot, coursing blood transfigured him.  No longer a sunken, hollow-faced bony man.  No longer a man of a lanky and frail physique.  The passing vigor had transfigured him into a hale image of youth.  A lean, spry, sinewy man.  The outwardness of this transfiguration gave the priest a perceptible glow.  As his quick nimble steps carried him into the market, many detected this glow emanating from the holy Brahmin.  ‘How pious and devout he must be,’ many passerby thought, ‘to have such a heavenly glow.’  The priest was followed by blessings from the devout as he strode towards the temple.  People in the streets were left in awe of this priest’s piety evidenced by his glowing vigor.  Such a holy glow!
	His desire burned so strongly the priest could hear the blood pumping vigorously throughout his body:  a faint whirring noise as his hot blood surged by his ears, accompanied by an electric tingling in his throat.  The closer the priest’s steps brought him to the temple, the stronger he felt his urges.  With each quickening step, the load in his bowels became heavier.  The blood in his veins surged.  No longer a faint ‘whirrrrr’, but now a loud ‘whooooshhhh’.  The excitement of the tingle in his throat became amplified, rising with the euphoric pressure in his rectum.  Each step brought the priest closer to climax.  His two urges battling for release.
	The temple neared.  The high walls loomed in view.  Their awful turrets gazed down into the streets.  The intricate decorated walls opened into the courtyard.  Shrines laden with offerings from the devout and pious.  Worshippers milling about before the morning service.  Many of the worshippers offered blessings to the Pundit as he passed through.  Choruses of ‘Namaste Pundit ji’ could be heard.  His presence left behind a trail of bowed reverent heads and hands joined in supplication.  All the while the Pundit was mulling over his desirous thoughts of Sohini.  ‘Soon,’ the priest mused to himself, ‘Sohini will be here. Here, to serve me.  That beautiful girl, mine to command...’
	A sharp rumbling followed by an immense pressure caused the Pundit to abandon his thoughts.

Sohini arrived at the temple courtyard.  She was held in awe of the temple.  The high walls, with their dark looming turrets, the shrines and altars, the steep staircase leading to the temple, all struck her with a little fear.  She knew this was a holy place.  But still, she felt uneasy being inside the gates.  She began to make her way to the family house when a voice called to her.
	‘Lakha’s daughter, come!’ exclaimed a voice behind her.  Sohini turned around in humble obedience.  It was the Pundit.  He had a broad grin on his face.  Some instinct in Sohini told her this grin was not one of gaiety.  There was something else behind.  The grin gave her the same feeling she had when she was in the temple courtyard.  This was a holy man, a Brahmin, but there was something uneasy about this grin.  The instinct Sohini felt was the same womanly instinct from the morning.  Just as she felt her brother’s need for thirst in the morning, so too she felt unsafe around the Pundit.  But she was an outcaste, and he a Brahmin.  She must obey and serve him.  Sohini quickly joined her hands and modestly bowed her head in obeisance, fearing the awful grin.
	‘Come, clean the lavatory’ the priest commanded.  ‘It is what is dirty.’
	‘Yes, Pundit ji,’ Sohini muttered meekly.  Unjoining her hands but keeping her head bowed, she made her way to the lavatory.  Sohini began to bend down, to clean the filth with a brush.  The back and forth motion of the brush caused her breasts to sway to and fro.  This caught the priest’s lascivious eye.  His blood still hot from earlier began to boil.  His desire for Sohini became uncontrollable.  He had to release it.
	‘Such shame,’ the priest began.  ‘Such shame to work in filth.  Such shame.  A beautiful girl like you.’  Sohini ignored the priest’s taunts.  ‘Such shame. To be covered in filth.  A beautiful girl.  To get dirt all over your clothes.’  She could feel the air becoming more hostile as the priest continued to tease her.  ‘Such a nice shirt.  Your dark youthful breasts show through.  Such shame for the dirt and filth to defile them.’  Every instinct in Sohini was telling her to get out, away from the salacious priest.  But she could not disobey a Brahmin.  She must clean the temple house.  She was ordered to do so.  But to be teased and taunted by the priest in such an immodest suggestive manner.  ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ Sohini thought.  ‘This morning Gulabo insults me for no reason.  Calls me a prostitute, a wanton.  And now the Pundit is teasing and taunting me.  Making immodest suggestions towards me.  What have I done to arouse such actions?  Why am I treated so?’  The priest kept teasing Sohini about her body and beauty.  The taunts becoming more immodest, more debauched as the priest let his hot, coursing, sickly-sweet blood take over.
	At these immodest suggestions Sohini’s hearing became lost on her.  To hear such things from the mouth of a Brahmin!  She could no longer understand the words the Pundit spoke.  His words became distorted, tinny and far away.  A foreign primal tongue known to no man, cutting the air with its guttural din.  But deep down she could sense the lecherousness of his carnal speech.  Soon the rest of her senses faltered.  A dark mist clouded her vision.  The smell of the lavatory burned in her nose no more.  She couldn’t feel the ache in her bones from years of bending down to sweep, to clean other’s dirt.  An eternity seemed to pass.  But then, she felt long bony fingers crawling on her skin, walking the contours of her body, plying every curve, every dimple.  The mist evaporated.  Her eyes began to water and her nose burned from the putridness of the filth.  Sohini’s womanly instinct cried out in her soul.

The shock of the scream tore through the Pundit ceasing the flow of his desire.  His blood no longer boiled.  It was no longer rushing through his veins giving him vitality.  Instead a chill came over him.  His blood was ice cold, frozen in his veins.  He sank back into his figure of congenital weakness.  He looked down at his thin weak hands.  Touching the sweeper’s youthful breasts.  Touching the untouchable.  The shirt, covered in filth.  The filth from the lavatory.  The filth from other commodes.  The dirt from the outcaste colony.  An Untouchable.  He had touched an Untouchable.  Him. A Brahmin.  His mind raced.  He recalled his thoughts from earlier.  ‘“Most fortuitous indeed!” Most fortuitous indeed to have desecrated, defiled myself!  Touching an Untouchable! What god has forsaken me, a Brahmin? What god has punished me with this succubus, this wanton whore, this ill-begotten bastard of a pig?  Blinded by my own desire!  Polluted! A Brahmin, polluted! She polluted me! Desecrated me with her filth!’
	The priest released Sohini’s full firm breasts and ran from the house.  A piteous cry of ‘Polluted! Polluted!’ could be heard ringing throughout the temple.