Confessions of a Private Tutor

A man starts giving maths tuitions to keep his family afl oat. But with thestudents come their mothers. Voluptuous. Willing. Moneyed.I watched with delight as a line of confusion marked her brow. I had brought her toorgasm and I had left her dazed. Th e delight expanded to include superiority, and Islipped out of the house. Th e next day was a maths session with her son. He handedme an envelope. Inside it were ten one-hundred-rupee notes.I had been paid.I had been paid for sex.I had been paid well for sex.I had never used a prostitute-sex worker, I should say-but I remember crossingthe Oval Maidan late one night and being accosted by one. She was well past herprime and had painted her face as if she were a clown: red daubs on her cheeks, blueeyeshadow and black streaks near her eyes. I was now her brother under the skin.I should have felt bad about this, but I didn't. I felt...magnifi cent.