The Mirza Chronicles - Chapter 4: The Matter of the Mattresses

Indira Niwas, as I have iterated earlier also, was a mystical place. The fact that none of the people who lived there knew who the place actually belonged to, should tell you how legendary the house was. And crazy stuff happened there as well. I have earlier described the story of how Mirza found several fire extinguishers when he got back from his shift. This is about another interesting incident that happened there.

Maybe a few weeks before the fire extinguisher incident, on a day when Mirza didn’t have to work, he’d invited Kritika to Indira Niwas during the day, when most of the others were either at the college or at work. Kritika was his girlfriend of two years and ever since they’d gotten separate training schedules, they had been meeting less and were struggling to keep the spark alive. So when Mirza called Kritika and told her that he’d have the place to himself on Wednesday, she quickly agreed to bunk classes and meet him.

It had been a while since they fooled around and were really excited about spending some “quality time” together. Mirza had cleaned the house, which was, if you knew him, quite a feat. Kritika had even taken the pains of waxing her legs on a weekday. But when the fateful day arrived, Dheeraj the doper announced that he was cutting classes. 

Mirza was deeply disheartened. Because Kritika found Dheeraj creepy and would not agree to come if he was around. The guy was harmless, of course, usually too high to notice much, but his staying back was a problem.

So Mirza tried to get Dheeraj to leave. Ever tried to get a lazy doper to leave his couch? It isn’t easy. Plain request didn’t work. Offering movie tickets didn’t work. Offering money seemed like a good idea but even that didn’t cut it. So Mirza had to reach out to another doper who lured Dheeraj away with the prospects of scoring some “lit” stuff. Dheeraj looked at Mirza with droopy eyes and got his ass up from Mirza’s bed, where he had been smoking a joint. Finally, it was time to meet Kritika.

When Kritika finally arrived, Indira Niwas was eerily quiet, something which rarely happened. You see, Indira Niwas has only 3 or 4 rent paying tenants at any given point in time, while each rent payer would usually house 3 to 4 guests, who’d be scattered across the floor of Indira Niwas, smoking weed and other contrabands. So, this was a rather fateful day, finding the place empty. The two lovers didn’t waste much time and locked themselves up in the bedroom. 

As it had been a while since these adolescents last got together, their interaction was understandably volatile and explosive. Clothes were off in a matter of minutes and they were in each other arms, writhing and moaning as they kissed and explored each other. Kritika was soon on the bed, moving her arms ever so coyly, while Mirza straddled her body and caressed her all over with his wiry darting fingers. He was admiring her torso, her beautifully asymmetrical breasts, the sternum which was visibly raised and always managed to fascinate Mirza. 

“Is it hot in here?” Kritika asked. 

“I guess summer is here already.” Mirza wasn’t in a condition to process a lot of details, including the weather.

Isn’t the act of sexual congress the most exquisite thing in the world? That moment, when a man finds himself inside a woman, while looking into her eyes. There’s just so much happening at that moment, so many feelings bursting in their minds, like a bunch of fire crackers, colorful and bright. And in that intimate moment, the kisses feel so full, so satiating and complete. Mirza and Kritika were locked in the heartiest of embraces, their bodies fused with each other, when they felt it.

“Why is the bed so hot?” Kritika exclaimed, her back almost scalding in the heat emitted by the foam mattress. Mirza too could feel the heat where his hands touched the bed, right over Kritika’s shoulders. He grudgingly pulled out of her to inquire what was wrong with the mattress and got up to switch the lights on. When the lights came on, they discovered that the mattress had smoke coming out of it. The foam was smoldering and seething quietly from inside as the two were doing the same on it.

They couldn’t figure out how the mattress was on fire. That’s when Mirza noticed a little hole on the cover next to the pillow. Dheeraj in his infinite state of inebriation, had put out his joint of the mattress instead of the ash tray. The joint had burnt its way into the foam of the mattress, setting that hot chain reaction which had now, interrupted Mirza’s ‘hot chain reaction’. 

Mumbling a few profanities under his breath, (meant for Dheeraj, of course) Mirza brought a bottle of water and poured in over the mattress. The foam sizzled and smoked some more before the flame died down. And by this point, Kritika’s mood was as wet and exhausted as the mattress itself. 

Kritika left shortly. 

And if you think, this story is over, think again. So the mattress in the bedroom was ruined. Dheeraj apologized for it and the same was forgotten soon. Mirza couldn’t express the full extent of his dismay at the whole thing, so he took the moral high ground and lectured Dheeraj on his weed habit, thus taking his frustration out. But soon, everything was back to normal.

Dheeraj was asked to sleep on the wet mattress, which he agreed to without much ado. Indira Niwas and its resident were as usual unaffected by the incident.

A couple of days later, Praveer and Mirza were on the balcony right outside the living room, trying to catch a glimpse of Zoozoo (another story, another time) who lived across the street, when they noticed a couple of brand new foam mattresses, wrapped in plastic and lying on the road, right outside their gate. Someone had dropped these while either shifting or otherwise. 

By the time Mirza turned around to ask Praveer if they should bring the mattresses in, Praveer had already reached the ground floor and was on his way to getting the mattresses up. They had new mattresses now.

Such was the wonders of Indira Niwas. Physics and logic kinda disappeared when you entered Indira Niwas. The angels looking over Indira Niwas were super kind and took care of the delinquents who lived there. Mirza and his buddies weren’t the last bunch of people, neither were they the first who lived there. Indira Niwas had housed generations of students of the management college nearby and was home to many such amazing stories of wonder and amazement.