A woman like Kajree
She looked at me, her face illuminated by the faint light of her phone screen. And even in the darkness, I had to stop myself from gasping out loud.
Being in her presence always did this to me. Her beauty wasn’t something poets would write about or painters would make masterpieces out of. It wasn’t something unattainable, something that made you dreamy and think of plucking the stars out of the sky and placing them at her feet, knowing that even then, you couldn’t have her.
No, Kajree was beyond all that.
Hers was a more earthy sort of beauty — big brown eyes, long, thick black hair that fell to her waist, a tall, slender figure, full lips, a tiny nose, and skin that glowed like a rose plucked fresh in spring — Kajree looked as if you could have her if you tried hard enough, but then, you would give up before you even started because that was how she was — out of your league.
Out of everyone’s league, except, perhaps Tushar.
Tushar — with his ripped muscles, piercing gaze, expensive clothes, and hair that stood on end as if he had been on the receiving end of an electric shock. With the jokes he cracked and the way he talked to strangers as if he had known them for years, did girls stand a chance? Did they even have the option of resisting his charms?
None of us were surprised when the beautiful and dynamic Kajree gravitated towards him in the first year of college. But knowing his reputation at school, I was indeed surprised that he managed to stick with her, that he managed to stick with one woman for four years.
But that was probably part of Kajree’s magic. She would never say anything in words, but in the way she moved, in the way she touched your arm, in the way she locked her gaze with you when she laughed — you would know she demanded it.
And there was no way you wouldn’t give a woman like Kajree what she demanded.
This is an excerpt of my upcoming book. If you’re thinking it’s romance, you’re wrong. It’s a murder mystery set in Bangalore, India.