Thursday, November 25, 2010


Atop a cliff. Facing a vast expanse of land, or water. The deep blue sea shimmers in the golden light scattered by the morning sun. I lie dressed in loose casuals on a thin cotton quilt spread over partly wilted grass, the warm earth massaging the sore muscles and the sunlight nourishing them. My eyes sparkle at the book held open by my fingers, narrating wondrous stories about seen or unseen lands, people, their way of life, their moments of ecstasy or of mind-numbing pain. The first few pages with their corners tucked in, hinting at the way I lead my life, for a few pages are all I could read then. Not anymore.

There is no electronic gadget lying by my side, no insane desire to capture the moment in a digicam or worse, to update my whereabouts to an all encompassing social network. No means or the urge to check gmail for the umpteenth time or to stay abreast with news to beat the stifling competition. No palpitations arising from wading through the peak traffic to work or molesting the keyboard to meet a seemingly impossible deadline. No worrisome thoughts about a dwindling bank account or a distending waistline. Just a tiny fear about the day ending.

I breathe in a cornucopia of fragrances. Is it the wild purple flower growing undeterred in face of the open sea breeze? Or is it the richness of damp soil in the shade of the tropical trees? Or may be it is the hot tandoori chicken resting in the food basket by my feet, ringing bells for the impending lunch hour. As my mind goes in overdrive trying a locate the source of my delight, a hand slides on my chest pulling me closer and I smile. 'Ahh, her Jasmine perfume, that must be it...' I give in to the tug and fall supine in the shade of the most beautiful (if that word could ever do justice to the creation) woman I know. Her piercing eyes bore into mine blasting open every door to my soul, her soft tresses tickling my abnormally large ears and her serene voice pouring honey down them... "Time for lunch sweetheart?" I can't help, but say, "Give me a minute honey, I got a task to finish..." as I pull her closer to soak in her glow that makes the sun burn fiercer, in spite....

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When US beckoned me by Siddharth Wagh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.