The Story of Neighborhood Kaki

 

The neighborhood Kaki, during her youth, came to know of the secret of taming men in a hand-to-hand fight. In verbal assault, she would leave any sense of male chauvinism battered, bruised, bleeding, lacerated, torn, tattered and racked. But over the perilous crossroads of physicality, where the females generally shrink back on the defensive given the animalistic forces residing in the males, she once incidentally found the key to matching them in the raw power game as well.

She was returning from the fields one not so fine dusk. The shades of night loomed large with a much-vaunted singularity. The slack and tardy stretch of the dusty road across the isolated countryside brought an incendiary encroachment upon her dignity. Two men pounced upon her with a very, very wrong intention. Scared to the guts and haunted by the bewildering ramifications of their intention, God graced her with the chance key to save her honor.

To save her ijjat, she clung to the very same instrument of their bestiality. She gave a spellbinding squeeze to the both of her peasant woman’s strong fists. The attackers were left in a preposterous firmament of pain. The more they howled, the more pressure she applied. Kaki proudly dragged them by their weakness into the village.

This exquisite masterpiece left her much spruced up against the so-called physically stronger sex. It gave her huge encouragement to tame down men in family feuds, which were obviously very decent in numbers among the peasant families. Over the coming decades, she became a terror who could hold men from ‘there’ and after squeezing the life out of the male pride, she would pin them down and gloatingly sat on their chest to claim victory. As little children, we witnessed many of her victories. The rivals discussed the escape strategies and advised each other about keeping the middle part out of her grasp. But how far you will stretch your behind? One cannot keep one’s middle safe at home and go to fight. So obviously Kaki found her targets.

One particular branch of her extended family specially bore the brunt of her major technique. First the grandfather lost his honor in his dhoti, followed by his son in the pyjama, and now the grandchildren in their pants carried the ignominy to the third generation.

Kaki was ageing now and the young fawns wanted revenge. Two of them challenged her at the village pond. Kaki groped for her strength and their weakness. She failed in her grasp this time and they walloped her pretty soundly. She was howling with pain as she ran to the village. ‘They aren’t men! Had they been really men, I would have squeezed them into defeat!’ she went crying.

Well, the boys were very smart. They were wearing cricket guard, and below it tight langots, which the wrestlers use to guard themselves in close duels, when they challenged her. No wonder she missed the target this time.