Short Story: East Java & Nirvana

Source: Pexels

by LJ Frank

She pressed her softness against the trimmed stubble covering my chin and leaning towards my ear she whispered, “Gently!”

“Mm,” I mumbled. 

“It’s the more sensitive of the two.” She softly murmured. 

I sensed that I wasn’t in the present time. Rather I was a participant in an ancient Hindu Tantra sect practicing the Kama Sutra. And in the same breath I was experiencing the Erotic Nirvana of the future? How could that be?

She was born on the steps of a temple. And so, was I committing a natural and sacred act in the name of the holy?

Before proceeding further on the path of this perceived blissful state, there’s a need for me to back up and to point out what led to the sacred ambience of this state of affairs. 

Up to this juncture I can’t say my life had been terribly dull. It wasn’t anything particularly special. It was mostly variations of a daily routine of going to and from a project. My assignments were linked to the needed illusion that I was somehow in charge of my own fate. I rationalized for the sake of emotional and intellectual cohesion.  

A witty friend of mine suggested a solution to my increasing weariness, “lower your expectations.” I took the advice and things changed when East Java entered my life. 

That was her name. That’s also where she was born. Her parents were in transit at the time of her birth and named her after the place. It would always be with her. She spoke three languages – Javanese, Mandarin Chinese and English. Her background was a mixture of ethnicities. She was born on temple steps. The precise location wasn’t as planned, yet it was a symbolic entrance to religious architecture. 

The sacred and the sensual are mixed together to give life some purpose. Sex indeed possesses a theological scent. It’s the scent in part, of virtue, that is, in the sense that virtue is tied to one’s belief, which in turn is grounded in a concern for one’s salvation, but one cannot be saved if one is not born and to be born currently requires the seeds of human sex. And to have sex is also the process of a rationalizng mind. Religion without sex is a complicated if not an irrational theological posture. The complexity of birthing humans will increase with artificial intelligence and related computer-generated species. Human based theology at some point may no longer be relevant in its current formats.

With that baggage in mind, I packed one day, and headed for a project in Panama City, Panama. 

With a small suitcase and laptop briefcase I headed to my next assignment. My plan was to spend a couple nights, complete my assignment and fly back. 

The flight down was routine. As I was showing my passport another customs agent behind me asked the woman about her name.  I looked back as she said, “My mother told me that she was drinking a local blend of coffee prior to the time of my birth in East Java, Indonesia.”

“Ah.” The customs agent replied.

I smiled looking back at her. She had dark hair, large brown eyes and a small diamond ornamenting the side of her nose. She was wearing a sleeveless black dress and black sandals. She looked over at me, returned the smile and winked. I nodded, grabbed the handle of my suitcase and headed for the exit and a taxi.

Once outside I noticed a lineup of waiting taxis. Getting into the first available taxi I looked back at the entrance to notice East Java walking out with her hand on the extended handle of her luggage following behind as she made her way to a waiting taxi next in line. Her dress hugged her curves, especially her wide hips. As life would have it my taxi jerked forward and we headed out of the airport and towards my hotel.

Arriving at the hotel I checked in and unpacked my suitcase and headed for the bar that overlooked a lush garden. I wasn’t there long, and while sipping my drink I noticed the arrival of the woman from the airport. It seems she was staying at the same place. Walking into the room she looked over at me and approached my table.

“Hello. My name is East Java.

“Yes. I remember at the airport. It’s an enchanting name…”

“You’re kind.”

“You have relatives here?”

“No. Otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”


“I followed you?”


“Just joking but not entirely.”

“Is there something I need to know?”



“That I’m going to tease you It’s my way of not only saying hello. It’s also about fate.”

“I’m confused.”

“That’s a good beginning.”

“I suppose bewildered is better than being lost.”

 She smiled as she sat down and adjusted her short black dress sitting down on the bamboo cushioned chair revealing her upper thighs. Her legs were a natural deep tan. She wore a black-colored toe and fingernail polish. As I glanced down at her feet I noticed as she crossed her legs that she was wearing a thin gold anklet on her left ankle. “Bewildered is good.” She observed.

“Have we by some chance met before?” I asked.

“We have. You probably don’t remember. Over ten years ago.” 

“Really? You remember me.”

“Of course.”


“You were a teacher. You paced the back and forth in front of the class. I remember your blue safari shirt because I thought you were very cute and I promised myself somehow, someway we would meet again. Even as a 20-year-old I wondered what you looked like naked under my spell.”

“Are you serious?” I was taken back, surprised by her frankness.  

“Of course.”

“I’ve never been stalked before.”

“Is that what this is? Perhaps it’s matter of knowing what I want and never knowing for sure if I’d find it while hoping it was worth the effort.”

 “Hm. I admit categories are not truly helpful.”  

“Are you upset?”

“Not really. It’s nice to be wanted.” 

She grinned. 

I almost bit my tongue from nervousness and wondered what I might be getting myself into.  We spoke about each other’s lives.

“Where did you go after you left your teaching position?’ East Java asked.

“I drifted and worked my way around the South Seas on monotonous voyages.”

“You sound like Joseph Conrad’s Lord Jim.”

“Perhaps so.”

“Do you think some things are meant to be.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s been years since we experienced each other in the classroom. Yet when I first saw you I knew that somehow we would meet again.”

“Am I missing something?”

“Not yet.” She stretched her leg under the table. Her foot touched my leg and worked its way up to my thigh. “I want you. Let me explain further in my room the nature of who I am.”

I nodded. I was intrigued.

Once in the room she asked me to undress and sit in a chair next to the bed and the room’s large window and adjoining patio that faced the sea. I’ll be back shortly.” She then kissed me. I didn’t have to wait long for her next move.  Little could I have guessed. 

East Java entered the room in a colorful robe, walked over to me and said, “I want to help you relax and enjoy a state of erotic being-ness. And in an hour, there will be a knock on the door. I will be your guide. You see, I was the one you were assigned to for your next artificial intelligence project.”