...the black T-shirt that hugged his body.his firm back n tight
butt on the other end of the corridor.most of the times he wore
trousers...seldom jeans.the sun rays giving his dark hair a brownish
hue.the red tie with white shirt-trousers on court-visits. ..he looked
so desirable! she burned all day on holidays.at night, his fingertips played
on Anna n she became a piano, shrieking out melodies.the boy, the boy!
what a boy! she was a musk-deer, maddened by her own scent, asking to
be freed of her scent.
the mere imagination that he may share another woman's bed some day,
sent a chill along her spine and her heart became cold. no other man would
do for her as she felt her naval, so deep and profound. she became ice-cold with fear...
her glowing youth had a perfect foil in him and his eyes which became
soo affectionate at times.....dream, dream...two dreams..the fertile
land green and red and pink and golden-yellow...
yellow...in the fading lights of day, Anna finds the pair of nimble feet
disappearing, fast and as irrevocably.the flowers by the stream..flowers..
there are gardens in this world where nobody entered because there are few
connoisseurs who can, led by the aroma, discover where the rose is.
(to be contd.)
No comments:
Post a Comment