Desire

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He was not sure whether it was love, lust or merely infatuation that he felt for her. But he knew this, that she had become an obsession for him. He would count the days, hours and minutes that he would be able to get a glimpse of her. If she knew of his advances, she never showed it. Not even a careless glance. Or was she being extra careful, so as not to attract their other colleagues' attention? She was not a drop dead beautiful woman. In fact, none of the other guys at work hardly gave her a second look. There was an aura of sensuality that she gave. Soulful eyes. Skin like melted chocolate. Thick black tresses. A lone diamond that sparkled on her nose. 

When he finally confessed his love to her, she laughed. Threw her head back and gave a throaty laughter, almost as if mocking him. He had been hurt. He had been prepared for her anger, her rejection even. After all, he had nothing to offer her other than his love. But he was not ready for her scorn. The hurt must have shown on his face, for when he looked down she gently placed her hand over his. His soul soared. Here was his woman, yes, he felt she belonged to him, holding his hand in the office canteen. 

That was just the beginning. What started as an innocent friendship soon crossed the boundaries and turned into a full fledged affair. They began to meet in secret. Not wanting to cause suspicion to those around them. Late night messages and calls that sometimes stretched all the way into the early hours of morning. Few hours of stolen time. Passionate kisses. Each time he kissed her like it was the last. He did not want to lose her. Ever. She was his obsession, his only passion. 

Each time they met, she came dressed in a saree. Though he knew that she did not like wearing the 7 yard long garment to work, the fact that she wore it to please him made him ecstatic. He loved to see her in it. The saree flattered her curves. She appeared more confident. Perhaps because she knew the effect it had on him. He would follow her with his eyes all day long at the office, waiting for that moment when he would be able to unravel the saree with his hands. He had never desired a woman as he did her. She was like a bad habit that was difficult to break. 

Two years later

She adjusted her saree so as to hide the love marks on her body. Not that her husband would notice her debauchery. But she did not want to take any chances to rock her steady marriage. As for him, he still continued to desire her. He smiled at the irony while pouring himself a shot of whisky, as she went home to her husband, reeking of another man. 

Angry April

Yes, I am literally a blob of sweat right now as I write this. Kid you not. The sweat from my palms is literally dripping on to my keyboard as I type now. It is that HOT. And I mean the sticky, sweaty, nasty kind of heat that gives you sunburns and makes your clothes stick on to you like a second skin. Note to self- Never take a holiday ever again to Kerala in April.

The fact that there is hardly any breeze in my otherwise windy apartment is not helping either. What was supposed to be a fun filled holiday already feels like its going to be a pure 3 weeks of living inside a scorching hot microwave. Now don't get me wrong, the heat is the only minus point. Otherwise, its all kickass. Home will always be home. And like Dorothy says, There's no place like home!

And so here I am, scorched and sweaty but happy and content. When there's little left to do in this weather, I am happily catch up on my reading. Currently reading The fault in our stars by John Green, after hearing about the raving reviews, so far I am a satisfied reader. I have also managed to get a few great bargains in Books yesterday when I went shopping. So, yes, April looks promising so far!

Ok, signing off for now to empty a bucket of cold water on my head. Just joking, or maybe I am not!

Lots of love,
A

My lost one

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It was the scent of her hair that caught my attention first. It was the scent of jasmine flowers mingled with coconut oil that wafted before my nostrils when I stood behind her. And somehow, that was enough. The smell- so familiar, a reminder of by gone days, of wedding days and lost childhoods. A scent so exotic that nothing in the world could ever replace it, not even now, not the designer perfumes that now belonged to me. So enticing, so strange, all at the same time. 

Her hair was braided underneath the string of jasmine buds and it reached all the way to her waist, like a thick rope calling out to me. A few inches of skin played hide and seek between the folds of her red saree. I couldn't help but lean into her. The jasmine flowers seemed to notice it more than her, as it is only when the buds tickled my nose & I sneezed that she seemed to realize my presence. She turned her head to the side and looked at me from beneath thick eyelashes.

I drew in my breath. She was beautiful, with luscious lips, a sharp nose and big black eyes. It was her eyes that drew me in, and I stood, as though in a trance. Those hypnotic eyes. I have never seen anything like them before and I doubt if I ever will again. 

A hundred questions rose to my mind and died on my lips that moment. I was truly lost in her eyes. She gave me a half smile, almost as though mocking me. As the driver applied sudden brake, we were thrown together once more and it was as though the entire world ceased to exist.

She got down at the next stop and it was though my body was on auto pilot. I followed. She started walking as I trailed her meekly, not even knowing where she was taking me. She took a couple of sharp rights and lefts till she reached in front of a cheap neon board which said- AVM Lodge. She turned back, arrogantly confident that I was following her. 

Under the night glow of the street lights, she radiated sensuality. Shadows flitted and across her face and played with her eyes, as she held out her hands for me. I was mesmerized. She was so new, yet so experienced. She was a stranger, she was my lover and she is someone I cannot stop loving. 

And that was how I lost my virginity - in room 103 of AVM Lodge, to a girl who smelt of jasmine and coconut oil.When I woke up the next morning, the only evidence that was left of her was a string of crushed jasmine flowers. My wallet which contained a few hundred rupee notes lay on the side table, untouched. 

Those glass bangles

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Age- 6 months old

The first time she wore glass bangles was when she was six months old, from what her Amma had told her. She still has the picture of her in front of Guruvayoor temple from her choorunu ceremony. She was seen spotting tiny karivalas or black bangles that are adorned on the hands of new born babies.

Age- 5 years old

She was gifted a set of bright pink glass bangles when she was five years old. This time, it was gifted to her by her best friend. He had accompanied his big sister to the famous Ultsavam and asked her to buy a set for her as well. She loved it at once, especially the sound that came when she moved her hands.

Age- 12 years old

She was a big girl now, or so her Amma and Ammaamma admonished her. She could no longer wear those short skirts and frocks that were so familiar to her. Nor was she allowed to hang out with Him for long. When she was gifted expensive clothes & jewelry, it was the dozen bottle green glass bangles that He gave her, with a shy smile, that made her feel all grown up. Did she glimpse something else in his eyes for a second in his eyes? Those glass bangles were like a soothing balm to the inner pain and turmoil that she felt with the responsibility of growing into a woman.

Age- 18 years old

Finally, they arrived at an age which they have been waiting for quite some time now. It was blood red glass bangles that He gave her on her Eighteenth birthday. When he took her hands and slid on the bangles on her slender wrists, she felt something go all strange and mushy inside her. The glass bangles played a pleasant music when he took her hands and kissed her. Her first kiss. Those bangles were the witness of their blossoming love. 

Age- 22 years old

She was getting married today. Fine jewelry adorned her neck, hands and fingers. Elders blessed her abundantly, lest she got the evil eye, for she truly looked like a Devi, a Goddess decked in the deep red saree that accentuated her curves and enhanced her femininity. When she insisted on wearing her old red glass bangles, she got scolded severely, for why wear the cheap stuff when she had bangles made from gold and precious stones?

After she got married and left for her husband's house, for that was her house from now, her kohl rimmed eyes blurred from unshed tears as they turned back and searched silently for the person who had given those priceless glass bangles to her. 

Age- 25 years old

She was said to be found lying in a pool of blood when they found her. Some say it was a murder, others say she died of a broken heart. But some say that the injuries found on her wrists were self inflicted by something sharp. When they opened her lifeless fingers that were curled around something, there were shards of broken glass bangles found inside the folds of her hand. Whether they were red glass bangles or tainted red by her blood, it was hard to know.