Charulata demanded gifts from her beneficial acquaintance. The conniving nymphomaniac was everyone's dearest girl next door by the day, the nonchalant happy go lucky spouse who was the epitome of good housekeeping but when alcohol coursed through her veins poured by her beneficial acquaintance who would pay for her jolly jaunts and night outs she would transform into a cheaper version of a roadside Aphrodite playing with her usual conniving ways and presenting herself elusive to the approaches of her friend. She would not give in until the gifts were higher. She kept him trying harder for him to trespass her sacred arena. She demanded her body to be scorched by his pent up lust for her in all his and her senses without sedating alcohol diluting the real tension that would scorch their bodies. But the enigma for the sacred arena was for another day, today since her lips were slave to the alcohol paid for by her friend she presented her satisfying services that made him see heaven. Every good thing comes to an end and so did this arrangement when it was time for the roadside Aphrodite to make way home to assume the high pedestal of the epitome of good housekeeping. Taking the benefit of the absence of someone at her temple she satiated her ego which was perhaps a natural vent for all the hopelessness that she is a potential failure or her potential has not been realized yet. A natural actor is like water, she effortlessly transforms herself into her convenient role. Her life moved on and all her benefactors kept a record of their time with her while she was Aphrodite both at her temple and the unusual world outside that existed in the concrete jungle.
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