I was wondering how to extricate myself from the situation without waking Feroz up when he opened his big, black, mournful eyes. We remained like that for a few seconds, observing each other from up close. I felt his breath on mine and it felt nice. Soon he was straddling me, squeezing my behind, exploring my mouth with his pink tongue. I had never been kissed before. I had a massive boner. I didn’t protest when Feroz untied my pyjama strings and jerked me off with a sure and practiced hand.

We extricated ourselves from each other in silence. He said he was going to the toilet to wash up. I left the room before he could return. I walked very slowly. I was euphoric, yet frightened. I didn’t feel like laughing or crying or angry or anything. I kept telling myself, ‘Pradeep, you are not gay.’

It was about two in the morning. I saw three boys walking in my direction. On coming closer, I recognized one of them as Grewal. We didn’t greet each other. But as they were passing me, Grewal turned around and said something. I think he said ‘Fucking faggot’ but it’s quite possible that I misheard him. It could be he just said ‘Hello Pradeep.’

Acknowledgements

‘The Other Evening’ appeared in First Proof 1: The Penguin Book of New Writing in India (Penguin Books), and ‘The Farewell’ (as ‘Sex and the Small Town’) in The Last Bungalow: Writings on Allahabad (Penguin Books) and Brick (Canada). Grateful acknowledgement is made to the editors.

Read more in Penguin

THE WOMEN IN CAGES: COLLECTED STORIES

Vilas Sarang

With his debut collection of short stories in English, Fair Tree of the Void (1990), Vilas Sarang established himself as a writer of great gifts, and one with a unique sensibility and literary vision. His works since—in Marathi and English—have confirmed his reputation as one of India’s finest and most daring contemporary writers.

The Women in Cages brings together all his short stories written in English, both previously published and new, brilliantly highlighting his singular imagination and style. From the desecration of a funeral pyre by the simple act of warming one’s hands on the blaze to the transformation of a man into a gigantic phallus enticing crowds of devotees as a live symbol of Lord Shiva; from the prostitute who uses the occult to generate numerous vaginas all over her body to a military general who abolishes an entire season for fear of revolution, Sarang presents startling thematic variety, always suggestive of strange and haunting alternative universes that transcend time and space.

Gritty and disturbing, and leavened by wit and compassion, The Women in Cages is a masterful attempt at capturing the myriad nuances of modern life.

‘One of the finest Indian writers of his time’—Dom Moraes