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Sunday 20 December 2015

She struck me

In a gathering of hundreds, I was lost into the exquisiteness of the delicacies on offer. My earnest desire to experiment with everything was evidently visible to all the breathing souls around me- periodically my plates tried different 'costumes' of snacks, main course, deserts, salads, veg and non-veg, the vibrance of these costumes was simply incomparable. I bet, all were second to my digestive prowess. 

My friend's thirtieth birthday was the sole reason for this grand celebration, though only the closest of his friends- which included me- knew that he had gathered that much financial stature because of his interests in a multitude avenues, blessing his bank accounts with tsunamis of cash. This was a secret to keep and nobody cared as long as he gifted us with such parties: an easy way to invest that illegally siphoned money. 

After my intense indulgence on  sparing nothing on the menu I observed that the crowd had become sparse and lazy. The music too was running in no hurry- a slow Jazz track flooded with guitar and saxophone; I wondered who the splendid singer was.  

In that utter slowness of the surroundings I walked towards the restroom going in for a liquid release of my intestinal by products, when I  encountered a huge mirror on the right side of the hall, I was startled by the height of it. A huge rectangular mirror extending upto some 30ft and reflecting the shimmering  chandelier hanging right above me, "Five-star customs", I said to myself. As I was about to tread on my lethargically musical walk my eyes fell on a woman clad in a red and black saaree. At first I couldn't see her face but to witness it- male nature- I adjusted my position accordingly and felt an adhesive gripping my feet to the floor: I was frozen there and then. She was adjusting her bindi to the center of her forhead; she was checking the plates of her beautiful saaree and when she set her curly flock of shining black hair on one side of her shoulders, my heart melted and my body withered with a sudden urge to know her. 

I had never had a love life before, though I was always in love with women but she was unique in every aspect. I developed an urgent craving to know her. My insides shouted on me to be a man and walk to her and get acquainted. Her red lips were calling me to kiss them and whisper some romantic phrases in my ears, I felt so. Her hair had just signalled me to caress them with the finest of touches; caring fingers seeping through that dense jungle of curliness. 

My god, or rather I should say 'my goddess', I didn't know but there and then a sense of being her man formed into me as a huge fireball. I wanted to unleash this fireball on that serene specimen of biology I was staring at. I had decided 'our' future yet I was unaware of the next few seconds of my life. "Who are you? I want to know you, be with you, love you, marry you, serve you" said I in a subconcsious loop. 

And in that hormonal wildfire she spooned in a spiralling spark when she looked across me and smiled, saying,"Hi!". That "Hi!" felt like "Yes I feel the same for you, my love", such was the strength in her melodious voice. And she walked away leaving me with a strange blackness enveloping my eyes and the next thing I could see was a white ceiling fan hovering over me. I woke up in a suddenness and saw myself surrounded by a dark-skinned lady dressed in white skirt, white shirt and a white scarf. She said," How are you sir? You are lucky, you  just survived a minor heart attack." 

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