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A real Sensitive One by Varalotti Rengasamy.
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The most suitable title that WON this contest - The Bosom Friend - Title by Prathi​

Story written by Varalotti Rengasamy ​

"Malu, look here. They are telecasting scenes from Devi's Diwali release film. See how beautiful she is. Look at her frontal beauty, dear. I have never seen such wonderful breasts. My God! There's no wonder all her movies are box-office hits and she's the number one heroine".

I was busy in the kitchen making my hubby’s favourite dishes for supper.I was thrilled when he called me so enthusiastically to share what was there on the TV. But when I heard him singing praises of some bloody actress’ frontal beauty, I lost all my enthusiasm to cook and was fuming within.


I ran to him, grabbed the TV remote from his hand and switched off the idiot box. My wonderful husband had the expression of a child caught while doing something naughty.

Whenever he praises the bust measurements of the actresses I will be boiling within. I had even warned him, that if at all I have BP or heart ailments, it would be only because of his voyueristic habit of ogling at the actresses. But he never listened to me.

I am particularly disgusted with this female, Devi. This devil had such wonderful bust measurements that would make even the healthiest woman become green in envy.

With tears welling in my eyes I grabbed my husband’s shirt and asked him right on his face: “Why do you always tease me like this?”

“Look Malu, the problem is fully in your way of thinking. When I appreciate Devi’s frontal beauty it doesn’t mean that I belittle yours. Nor does it mean that I am going to elope with her leaving you in the lurch. You should learn to appreciate beauty in whatever form it is.

“A baby’s smile, fresh flowers, the waves in the ocean, Devi’s breasts – well, I don’t see any difference between these manifestations of beauty. By the same reasoning, if you were to ogle on well-bodied muscular men like Salman Khan, for instance, I won’t mind that at all.”

“Will you please stop this nonsense? I feel like puking.”

He left the place with a victorious grin on his face. Give another thousand years, these men would never understand a woman’s mind.

I was idly browsing the TV the next afternoon. I chanced upon a song-sequence of Devi in one of the channels. I had a natural curiousity to find out what she looked like in tight close-ups. I was shocked. Devi was a real stunner. Her bust measurements would make the men long for her and the women jealous of her.


I thought that there was no point in denying such an obvious beauty. She was very tall and had a very soft,vulnerable,pleasing face. But her breasts…. I looked down on myself and let out a long sigh. I switched off the TV and turned my attention to the magazines.


That was not my day at all. For adorning the cover page of that fimi-magazine was none other than Devi. Devi already had wonderful breasts; the magazine photographer had done his job to make them appear even bigger and more beautiful.


Whenever my husband sees pin-ups of Devi, he used to comment:

“Look Malu, Devi has the measurements of an actress and the face of a house-wife. That lethal combination makes her irresistible.”

Now I started seeing Devi as a threat to my married life. If Devi were to stand before me now, I would have killed her with my own hands.

I was otherwise a happily married woman. My husband was earning well; he did not have any bad habits. He was a wonderful provider. We are in the third year of our marriage. We are planning to raise a family next year.


But slowly Devi was taking a collosal form and appeared to threaten the very foundation of my happy marriage. I was confused: Should I make it a big issue and go to my parent’s place or simply ignore it? Should I meet a marriage counsellor? I did the only sensible thing possible. I fervently prayed to God that I should somehow get peace in this tricky matter.


The phone rang and broke my reverie.

“Malathi.”

“Radhika here,Malu. I want a big favour from you.”

“Name it.”

“We have a very important felicitation function at our ladies club in the evening. One of our members had agreed to compere the program. But suddenly she fell ill. I know you are very good at compering. Can you help me please?”

“Let me think,Radhika.”

“Malathi, there’s no time to think. I’ll pick you up at 3 from your house. The programme is at five. We can have some rehearsals and preparations till then. It’ll be over by seven and then we’ll have high tea. I’ll drop you back at your house before eight. Please, Malathi…”

“OK. Done.”

“Thanks a ton,Malu.”

“Who’s the VIP?”

“Devi. Today’s number one heroine, Devi.”

My gasp should have been audible at the other end.

“Malathi, are you all right?”

“I’m OK.”

“If it’s going to be a cine-actress.. I need.. I may not…”

I was so overwhelmed by jealousy that I did not know how to finish the sentence.

“Do you know Malathi, Devi has won a national award for her superb acting in the film…”

She gave a name. I could not care less.

“But don’t worry, Malu. We have only our club members. We have not invited anybody from outside. And we have not given any publicity to the programme. So no one would know that Devi is coming. It’ll be a very decent crowd, Malu.”

‘Only if you don’t count the VIP’ – I wanted to shout.

First I wanted to invent some excuses to avoid going to the function. I could blame my husband, my health, my periods, my ailing mother….


How can I praise the woman whom I have been hating with all my heart ever since I came to know of her? And how can I compere without praising her?

Then my natural curiousity took over. I wanted to see Devi in close quarters, in flesh and blood. At the bottom of my mind I also had a selfish desire to ask for some tips to improve my bust-size. I agreed to go.

I called my husband to tell that I was going out for a ladies club function and would be home by eight. I carefully blacked out the fact that Devi would be coming there. If I had told that, he would somehow get permission from his superiors and be there at the function to ogle at Devi in person.

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Story without a title - Continued...

The moment I reached the meeting venue the compere in me woke up. I professionally collected a host of information about Devi from Radhika. I carefully jotted out the tidbits I was going to throw in between the speeches to add spice to the function. I edited Devi’s biodata and made it to sound very juicy and interesting. By a quarter to five I was fully ready and after a hot coffee I was raring to go.


Exactly at five Devi walked in. She was not fussy and I could say from just a minute’s look that she would be totally unassuming. Her make-up was very soft, her perfume very mild and her smile very warm. But I could not help seeing her precious assets. It was even more stunning than in the pictures. Strong feelings of jealousy were building within and I was even afraid that I might not be able to speak at all.

When Devi came near me Radhika introduced me to her. She folded her hands and I reciprocated the gesture listlessly.

As I returned to my seat a rage was slowly building in me. If she had wonderful breasts, then I have my intelligence and an enviable command over English. Now let me show the bitch who I am. When I started to talk I was almost in a state of trance. Words were flowing out from me as if commanded by some great force; I made people smile, laugh, think and at times even cry with my words.


The function came to a close at half past six with Devi himself publicly praising me after the vote of thanks was given.

Radhika came running to me.

“Malu, you spoke as if you were possessed. But your performance was simply wonderful. Even Devi was astonished at your compering abilities. She wanted a seat by your side during at the high tea. It’s your day, Malu. Enjoy.”

Devi grabbed my hands and was shaking it for an eternity. She could not even bring herself to speak. As we sat side by side for the high tea she was singing my praises.

I could not fully listen to her words for seeing her so near filled my heart with a fresh dose of envy. I have never seen such beautiful breasts in any woman. I could have sworn on that.

Devi ignored the Ladies Club president seated on her other side and was constantly talking to me.

And now only I started paying attention to her as a person. When she appreciated me there was no artificiality or exaggeration about it. She made it look as if she were stating a simple fact so easy to understand. There was not a trace of condescension in her tone.

It looked as if Devi and I were childhood friends who have met after so many years. Her tone was so friendly. She admired the simple necklace I was wearing and when she touched my neck in the course of inspecting the jewel, I felt a shiver running through my spine. Somehow I wanted her presence, her company and her friendship.


She asked about my life, my husband, my schooling and all. And I asked about hers. She explained the travails of a filmi life and told me that in the heart of hearts she preferred the simple life of a home-maker.


When it was time to say good-bye I had grown fond of her. When we shook hands her hands lingered in mine a little longer than necessary. I took leave of my other friends and finally went to Radhika. Devi who was by her side flashed a warm smile.

“Malathi, we have messed up with the transport. There’s only one car left. Miss Devi has a shooting schedule in another half an hour. Let the car drop her and come back. I’ll give company to you in the meanwhile.”

Devi interrupted.


”If you don’t mind, Mrs.Radhika, let Mrs. Malathi come along with me. I’ll get myself dropped at the studio and then Malathi can go home in the same car. Of course, if Mrs. Malathi doesn’t mind.”

I gladly agreed.


Devi was incessantly talking throughout the car ride at the end of which she was not ready to let me go:


“Malathi, my schedule today is with the top hero. He will be invariably late. So if you are free for another half an hour we can be talking.”


I nodded. She sent away the car and told me that she would have me dropped in her new car.


I also wanted to be with her for some more time. She was an excellent conversationalist. She chose her words with utmost care – words which were unpretentious, words which were soothing, words which would never hurt and words which would carry her love.

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Story without a title - Continued...

She ordered for apple juice and we settled down in a comfortable corner in her elaborate make-up room. I was simply amazed at the range of make-up items and gadgets. I was still staring them with awe when Devi grabbed my shoulders.


“Without these gadgets you can’t even look at us, cine stars. All these create a false appearance of beauty in us, which many stars mistake it to be their innate beauty. When age catches up with us, we would be far more ugly than the others thanks to our unhealthy lifestyles.”


I was moved by this self-deprecating confession.


“Malathi, all these are mine. So whatever you want please feel free to take. It’s with my compliments.”


I was now thinking that Devi should have been born as my elder sister in a previous birth. My first cousin who is modelling has an impressive array of make-up articles. But she won’t allow me even to touch them.


As I was surveying the vast array of items the one question I had always wanted to ask Devi popped up in my mind. ‘How does she have such wonderful breasts?’

I had thundered at the function a few hours earlier. But now I could not find the right words to clothe that awkward question. I cleared my throat, started with an awkward beginning, aborted the question, then rephrased it, then dropped it again, started again, dropped again…


“What’s bothering you, Malathi? Come out.”

“Devi, I am not sure whether you would relish this question. Even if you ignore it, I’ll understand. I just wanted to ask.. the secrets….. about this… marvellous…. frontal…. beauty.. breasts…”

Devi had a hearty laugh at first. Then she started to talk enthusiastically…


“Add an ounce of milk to a cup of wheat flour.. .. .. . ..”


She stopped in mid-sentence. She was looking down. I touched her shoulders softly.

She looked up. Her eyes were brimming with tears.


“Sorry, Malu – please give me the liberty to call you so - that’s my standard response whenever the press or my fans ask that question. But that’s a lie. And I don’t want to lie to you. I’ll never lie to you.”


“What do you mean that it’s a lie? Do you mean to say that you were giving false tips to the people? Why did you say it’s a lie?”


“Everything is a lie. This is tinselworld where we glorify falsehood and discard the truth. But I don’t have the heart to tell a lie to you, Malu. I shall tell the truth. Once upon a time I did have wonderful breasts. And I was very very proud of them.


“Maybe God wanted to punish me or he wanted me to grow in strength. He gave me breast cancer. I had a mastrectomy five years back and both my breasts were removed. Fortunately there was a remission thereafter. Like a cripple using a rubber foot, I am using something artificial to prop up the appearances.”


I was too stunned to speak. It was now my turn to cry. I hugged Devi and cried shamelessly. I was now wondering at my own reaction. Had this news come as a gossip before I met Devi I would have made a mini-festival out of it. But now I was crying.

Devi came near me and hugged me tight. She wiped my tears and spoke softly.

“ Only two or three people in this industry know this secret. After revealing that to you I feel very light now. I feel much closer to you now than before.”

I could not speak. I just held her hands and was weeping silently for a long time.


When I got myself dropped at home it was almost ten in the night. My husband was eagerly waiting for me.

“Malu, why didn’t you tell me, that you compered Devi’s felicitation function? I would have applied leave and attended it. What a golden opportunity!”

I just smiled at him.


“Tell me how did she look in person. I read in a magazine that she is much more gorgeous in person. Tell me what dress she wore. How did she talk? Were you able to shake hands with her? Is this the hand that shook the hands of the one and only Devi?”


I had the needle which could puncture the baloon of desire in my husbands mind. But I did not want to do that.


I knew one thing for sure. My prayers have been answered. Even if he were to ogle at Devi for hours on end, I would never get annoyed.

My heart had never been so full. I wiped my eyes and went into the kitchen.

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