Do you associate music with events that happened to you in the past? I do. When I first heard Andy Williams sing “Speak softly love, so no one hears us but the sky”, I was in my fourth year of Engineering.

A year earlier this had been the theme music for The Godfather II. I was at the Safire, a movie theatre on Mount Road, in a city in India that was then called Madras. The year was 1975. I was twennie. I was with Sushy.

Every detail of that evening is etched in my heart. I had fallen head over heels. Sushy was a Stella Maris girl, two years younger, game for anything. She was tiny and at the same time a handfull. She wasn’t stunning or anything but she had beautiful hands and feet.

And ankles. Indian women in general have crappy ankles. But Sushy’s were chubby, with thin silver bracelets that we Indians call ‘payals’, on them. Her toes were delicious. Lacquered purpled and flawlessly shaped, they sent me into shattering orgasms. From then, I fell in love with the color purple.

No attraction can last unless it is at least a bit cerebral. Sushy mirrored my tastes – in film, music, reading……..sex. Yes, didn’t you know? Sex is cerebral. Cunnilingus is yucky but when I went down on Sushy, I made it feel like I was tasting elixir. It’s all cerebral, no question about it. Why do you think they call it ‘giving head’?

I wonder where Sushy is now, coz I am now 63 and have been married to someone else a long long time, a dear woman who cares about me. So, take it easy, my wonderment is simply idle conjecture, actually. Didn’t I say I’d be candid on my blog. How much more fucking candid do you want me ta get?

Still, the occasional pang persists – the sudden desire ta find out where she is these days, whether she got married, fucked, had kids or became a CEO and said she had a headache whenever she felt his hardon against her butt, that kinda thing.

Sushy was very loving. It didn’t take a lot to bring her to tears of compassion. I am blessed to have known her.

Be that as it may.

One Way Ticket” (See above video) reminds me of Sushy and the dance floor at that disco on Nungambakkam High Road where we went wild and where I went broke by the sixth of the month.

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Ps: If you ever meet an Indian Tamil woman around 61 named Sushy, please, don’t show her this blog.