| Username |
Post |
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 01:31 PM
She woke up with a knot in her stomach as the crisp June air brushed through her face and the slices of sunlight penetrated the white blinds that hung at her windows. Aradhna breathed harshly, beads of perspiration shining on her forhead and trickling down her temples.
"I cannot do this!" she cried in whispers. "I cannot marry Subhash. Oh God! I cannot marry him!"
Trrrrring! Trrrrrring! The phone shrieked on a late morning last October. Aradhna had just entered her room from an aromatic bath. Her long hair wore the fragrance of the Lavender and Jasmine essence from the bath as she freed the tresses from the towel.
"Who could it be?" she thought as she strode to the phone-set on her study table.
"Hello?" said the voice on the other side.
"Yes?" Aradhna responded.
"Hi, this is Subhash. Er, um, we met last week in professor Peterson's class," the voice sounded jittery.
"Subhash.....," Aradhna pondered a bit. An image of the tall and lanky young man with rim-less glasses perched sagaciously on his nose flitted across her mind. He sat diagonal to Aradhna in their South Asian literature class and seemed to twitch nervously at her unwavering gaze. He cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. She quickly averted her eyes and transplanted her penetrating look onto Dr. Peterson whose voice and enunciation rang like a church-bell through the room. Aradhna yawned. Tagore's "Vision" was her favorite short story, but having read it countless times and cried countless times, Aradhna's fascination and fatigue that lazy afternoon could not be told apart. Unwittingly, her gaze returned to Subhash who, curiously enough, was intently looking back at her.
"Oh yes, Subhash," Aradhna smiled faintly at her recollection. "Sorry, I remember you now. How are you?"
"I'm alright," he cleared his throat. "Aradhna, as you may know, I'm the new chair of the Asian student association. We are trying to put together a cultural program for the upcoming Dipawali celebration on campus. Several students suggested....er, recommended your name for the title role of Kumud from Tagore's "Vision" that we are thinking of including as a play performance. Would you be interested?"
"Oh, that's so nice of everyone," came the swift reply. "It would be an honor really. That is one of my favorite short stories."
"Yeah, I like it, too," replied Subhash with a quick laugh. The conversation was quite lively. Subhash had decided to play the role of Kumud's husband.
"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow in class then," Aradhna concluded after a quick look at the wall-clock. "I have a meeting with my advisor soon. Nice talking to you, Subhash."
"Of course, and same here," Subhash replied before hanging up.
|
| Marich |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 01:45 PM
La ..yettti ho..Aru khoi ta..Kya...Batoma aaparjhat uphrina aayeko Harin ( Deer) lai bachauna Ghacchyaaaaaakkkkkkk Break hanaya jasto bhayo..
|
| meera |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 02:55 PM
Sis eagerly waiting for the rest of the story !!!
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 03:10 PM
The rehearsal for the play began the following week. The autumn air was filled with the pathos emanating from the lives of the two Tagore characters. Subhash's enactment of the husband with vacillating morality was well complemented by Aradhna's portrayal of a wife's fierce devotion. The audience was mesmerized. Here was passion etched indelibly into the fabric of art.
In her muffled cries, Aradhna disavowed any prior feeling of love for Subhash. "I cannot marry him! God, please help me. I should not have led him on that way! I am cruel, cruel," she cried bitterly. "I never loved him. I never did. I only used him. Used him to heal my own wounds. Oh, I've been cruel," she turned and hid her face on the pillow.
"Aradhna -- prayer. What a beautiful meaning of a beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Sushant's voice held her name delicately as if it would fall and break otherwise. He plucked a daisy from among the grass and placed it carefully on her tastefully done hair.
"You are acting like one of the Indian actors from the 60's," Aradhna giggled.
"So what? Art is an imitation of life said Wilde. And nature's gifts are timeless...Flowers will always bloom and women's hair always thirsting for a fine blossom to adorn those tresses," he smiled.
"But life cannot be an imitation of art!" Aradhna quipped and hurriedly got up. "I have to leave now. We are expecting company for dinner."
"You are always expecting company for dinner," Sushant sounded disappointed.
"Well, when you speak to my parents about us you will be the sole company for dinner one day!" Aradhna responded jubilantly. Sushant lived for these happy moments. His long stay in the Indian subcontinent had given him a nice tan. The spicy food he ate there and the rich colors of his outfits enhanced his features and made him more handsome than she had given him credit for. Growing up with him, she had seen him as a chubby young lad; there was now a new way to see him ever since his return. Aradhna couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the magical feeling could not be denied. Perhaps, in some weird way, there was a promise of a depth of feeling between them. The air was heavy with that promise that hung like a ripe fruit ready to be plucked. The slightest touch would have seared through the fruit and spilled the juices.
|
| meera |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 03:16 PM
Sis, can u post the rest too, I don't want to move from the computer unless I finish the rest of the story!!!
|
| rohini_a |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 03:19 PM
For a few lines, I thought I was reading excerpts from an x-rated novel:
1. penetrated
2. hung
3. breathed harshly
4. beads
5. perspiration
Nice going though. Someone needs to award Simplegal with a chandi ko takma for her eloquence. Bravo!
|
| meera |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 03:22 PM
And someone needs to hang Rohini by the neck and feed her body to the wolves :-)
|
| rohini_a |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 03:47 PM
If you're willing to do it, Meera, then I'll happily let you. You see, girl, I have the hots for you. I have fallen in lop with you and your BF Uday. Anything you want to do with me. I am forever in your hands henceforth.
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 03:48 PM
A hand tapped lightly on her shoulder as she passed through the crowded hallway to her class on "Hymns to Shiva". She turned around and smiled back at a familiar face.
"Where have you been? I haven't seen you since our play together," Subhash grinned from ear to ear.
"Oh, I've been around. Busy. How about you? I haven't seen you either!" Aradhna stepped aside to let the others pass by.
"Oh, it's been hectic for me, too. More responsibilities on my plate than I can manage," he smiled sheepishly. "Are you headed to class?"
"Yes. Hey, why don't we catch up? I will be out by 4 o'clock." She blurted out. Subhash agreed immediately.
Professor Venkatesan's class was stupendous that afternoon. The American "kids" in the class gasped in disbelief at the story of Shiva's linga or phallus worship. "Man, you guys are sick!" shouted Mitch from the back of the class. "But guys rule so yeah, it's great that Sheeva's penis is worshipped," he roared with laughter. Aradhna shot a mean look at him and explained how the phallus is a symbol of power and purity. Professor Venkatesan accentuated Aradhna's explications with some melodious renditions of poems to Shiva.
Subhash was waiting outside the classroom as Aradhna turned around from the door.
"Shall we go to the Bistro?" he offered to carry her books for her. She declined politely.
"I think I am strong enough," came her reply. Subhash was taken aback.
"I was only trying to help," he said faintly. Aradhna regretted her acidic remark.
"Ok, why don't you take half of them then?" she compromised.
Their afternoon banter was light and spirited. Tagore, Rushdie, Mukherjee, Desai, and Gandhi were discussed lengthily. Aradhna's cheek were flushed after her passionate discussion of some of Tagore's poems. Subhash could feel his heart thumping mercilessly in the cave of his bosom as he watched her lavishly colored lips move relentlessly. Tagore had never sounded sweeter to him. At one verse, Aradhna broke down and he offered her a tissue that she took gratefully.
"I'm sorry. I became too emotional," she sniffled. "I can't believe anyone could envision such beauty and articulate such inchoate emotions so eloquently," she said, her voice almost choking her.
"I can see why you are a literature major. You have a gift of feeling that is rare," Subhash's eyes glittered with admiration for this petite girl who smiled weakly but brilliantly at his remark. Something struck inside him at this smile. He cast his eyes away from her face and tried vehemently to stifle whatever it was that clamored to be set free.
|
| jyotsna_manorama |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 04:20 PM
very nice indeeed!!! personable piece!! looking forward for more/rest.
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 04:39 PM
"Is anyone in?" A head bobbed from the door. Aradhna was startled with fear.
"Oh, Sushant. You scared me! Don't you ever do that ok?" she whined as he closed the door behind him.
"Uncle and auntie told me you were moping in your room," Sushant twisted the expressions on his face and mimicked the look of a moping person. The ridiculousness of the farce forced a smile on her.
"Hehehe. I made you smile!" Sushant crowed as he walked handsomely to her bedside. The blue flared boot cut jeans and the scarlet colored T-shirt made him look embarassingly good. His hair was short and well done. He smelled soothingly refreshing.
"Now tell me. What's the matter?" he lowered his face and brushed his nose against her cheek.
"Nothing. Just angry at some of the arguments I had in class. Someone was slandering some of the sacred hymns as having a homosexual tone. Why does everything have to be so sexually analyzed? Can't art exist for its own sake?" Aradhna had a pained look.
"Oh my Lord! All this sound and fury, signifying nothing?" Sushant rolled his eyes. "My dear Poetess, relax. Relax!"
He ran his fingers through her hair and drew her face close to his. There was a strange madness in her eyes that drove him wild. Such a small creature yet so fiery! He looked at her smoldering lips as she muttered her disdain for such gross remarks to the Lord, and kissed them gently. His touch always healed her--instantly. But this kiss breathed life back into her. She sat stupefied, hungering for more of that gentleness.
"I love you," he said softly. "You are SO caught up in your literature you never notice anything else. You never notice me."
Aradhna could not find the words to say how untrue his words were. All these years, her eyes had only wanted to see him. The imaginary prince charming of every little girl's dream was always imaginary to every little girl. But for her, she had found him in wholesome hug of the chubby little boy who healed her--instantly. She had wanted to remain in those arms forever. When Sushant went away after so many years of togetherness and was not to return for many more years of separation, Aradhna had felt a piece of her depart with him. She felt incomplete and empty. Now, after his return, she felt whole again. That kiss was the breath of life for her. She wanted his presence, she longed for his touch, she lived for his love.
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 05:36 PM
The first snow of the winter fell, slowly at first, faster and faster as the winter drew on. Subhash stared out from his window. The glass windows of his snug suburban house were large. Intricately embroidered drapes hung heavily, expensively at the large windows. Subhash sipped his coffee slowly and watched the vehicles amble across the road. A silver Nissan Sentra pulled into the street and the figure of a young girl in a red parka emerged from the car. Her face was well hidden behind her pashmina scarf and she looked furtively around as she paced across the lawn. Subhash rushed across the hallway and out the door, curious to see who this visitor could be.
"Hi, can I help you? Who are you looking for?" he inquired. The girl looked up at him.
"Oh, Anjana. It's you!" Subhash breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared the hell out of me, yaar! Geez!" he laughed nervously. "Come, let's go inside."
"No, it's ok. I need to give you a message. It's urgent," Anjana sounded edgy.
"What is it?" Subhash's voice faltered.
"Nothing serious. I need you to go to campus and meet Aradhna at 11 o' clock after her class. She has some important matters to talk to you."
"What kind of matters?"
"I don't know. I just wanted to relay the message. I could have called you but I was driving by so decided to personally give you the message." Anjana looked briefly at Subhash and moved as if to head back to her car. "I must be going now. Need to get some grocery for my party tomorrow night. You're coming, right?"
"Yeah. I hope all is well with Aradhna," Subhash sounded concerned.
"Not to worry," Anjana replied.
"Good. I'll get my coat. Bye!"
Subhash's mind was meandering throughout his drive to campus. Why would Aradhna summon him so suddenly and that too through someone else? Could she not have called? Well, he would soon find out rather than ruminate on random thoughts, he told himself at last.
|
| chubby_cheeks |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 05:40 PM
rohini....this story is for people who can understand english and the meaning..too much porn is not good for u!!!
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 06:20 PM
Aradhna chewed her pen cap anxiously as the teaching assistant droned incessantly about the magnificent architecture and resplendent gardens of the Mughal dynasty. Rashid was immensely fond of the Mughal history and proud of what the rulers had achieved in their artistic quests.
"Shah Jehan's love for Mumtaz was immortalized in the magnificence that is Taj Mahal. No other token of eternal love shines eternally like the dome of this wonder. It is a work of art and love chiselled into the heart of time," Rashid enunciated triumphantly. The class either blinked or sat dazed at the weight of his words. "Ok class. We will meet for the lecture session tomorrow morning. May love guide you all in the right path."
Aradhna rushed frantically out of the classroom. Subhash had not arrived yet. She sat down on the bench across the hallway that was prominent enough for him to find her.
Subhash walked towards the campus building impatiently. The throng of students exiting from the classes blocked him heavily. He grew a bit testy and began brushing them aside to clear the way. There was Aradhna at the end of the hallway sitting solitary and absorbed in deep contemplation.
|
| rohini_a |
Posted
on 27-Apr-04 07:22 PM
Chubby cheeks, listen here, lesbo, someone with horrendous English like yourself shouldn't be making fun of my English. If I go on my "verbosity" rampage, you would be left far behind, frigging mentally challenge 18 y/o virgin lesbo. STFU for a second now.
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 09:38 AM
"What could be taking him so long? Maybe he decided not to come. It's already snowing so I don't see the point why he'd come. But I think he will come. He HAS to come!" Aradhna's mind sommersaulted with her convoluted emotions.
"Hi!" Subhash's gentle voice freed her from her internal debate.
"Oh hi! You came! I'm so happy to see you!" Aradhna sprang up and fully embraced him. Subhash was at once bewildered and thrilled at having her in his arms.
"What's the matter? Anjana said it was urgent," he whispered delicately in her ear as he raised his hand to touch her hair. He had always wanted to feel the fullness and beauty of her hair that ceaselessly beckoned him to her even as they flailed in the wind and shunned him away.
"Let's get out of here. I want to go to that Greenhouse on Oak street. Come with me!" her eyes pleaded playfully. Subhash could not say no. She pulled herself away from him like the gentle peeling of a rose petal. She could not hear or feel his heart that throbbed painfully inside him aching for reunion with this woman that he had mysteriously adored.
He followed her like a lamb as she held his hand and led him across the snow covered lawns and onto Oak street a few blocks away.
|
| marich |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 09:40 AM
Novel lekhne bichar gareko chaina ?...Lekhna ta khatara aaundo raicha ni..
aajkal sajhama arkako kura katne , jhagada garne, gali galauz garne, leg -pulling ( khutta tanatan garne ) ra photo chapne thread matrai lamo huncha..yesto kasaiko aafnai maulik katha satha manche haru padhchan, ani "kya jharko lagne', ' kya lamo' ani ' ye uhi puranai Formula, Vicks ki goli lo '
bhanera yeuta shabda pani lekhdainan..yestai cha jamana
badalindo samayko pratichya garau..
|
| u_day |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 12:24 PM
simplagal!
can I use this story in my new publicatiopn -- THE SAJHA COLLECTION ????
|
| chubby_cheeks |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 01:11 PM
even if my english is bad...how would u know????rohini...plus u're soooo negative....god!!!this world is gonna be an ugly place for u!!!THINK POSITIVE..BE POSITIVE
|
| scatterbrain |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 01:22 PM
Multiple choices, girl on rebound, and Shiva Lingum... Myan o' myan, and they turn around and say "men are pigs"? :)
Wonderfully woven scattered pieces but maybe its comprehension was a bit too much for my scatterbrain. :)
- Scats
|
| Hellbound |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 01:42 PM
Very interesting... More to come?
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 04:32 PM
The rain was pelting ferociously on the sparse grass that was readying itself for the heavy cloak of winter. Young school children scurried across the streets in their gaudy rain-coats or under psychedelic umbrellas. A basketball fell from the loose hold of a young teenager and hurtled across the road stopping traffic as the grinning boy chased it to the lawn of a pale yellow townhouse. He paused awhile inspecting the basketball scrupulously. It looked unharmed and he looked pleased.
As he turned around to the pavemen and toward the crossing, two figures huddled together under a florescent and large umbrella approached him. He shot a surreptitious glance at them and immediately looked away. But he could sense that the woman was crying softly as she clung to the man's chest. He in turn had wrapped his arm around her. He was silent. At the crossing, the boy turned around again to see the pair walk up the pathway to the pale yellow townhouse. The walk sign lit up at the crossing and the boy hurried to the other side holding on tightly to his basketball this time.
"Do you want some hot chocolate with whipped cream?" Sushant looked into her face as she settled down on the couch. "That's your favorite drink in this sort of inclement weather."
"No, don't worry. I'll be fine," Aradhna bit her lip as she breathed these words.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Sushant straightened up and turned toward the kitchen counter. Aradhna did not reply.
He put the kettle on the stove and opened the kitchen cabinet. Some herbal tea would be good he thought as he searched in his box of tea bags. There was one herbal tea bag left in a box full of regular Lipton tea bags.
"Are you hungry? I have some cookies....and some sweets that a friend of mine brought from his home last week. Let's see," Sushant opened the fridge and looked in the box of sweets. "Oh, there are several kinds of them. Well, you take your pick, darling."
Aradhna was standing at the window. He could hear her crying.
In long strides he reached her immediately. At a few paces away. he took slow steps toward her. She seems so fragile he could not dare to touch her. He cleared his throat. She lowered her head and hid her face in her hands and began to cry harder. He hurried toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders gently.
"Forgive me," the words seared through his entire body and flung themselves ruthlessly on her, piercing through her body and choking her violently. "I should have told you earlier."
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 06:23 PM
"And this is the majestic palace of the maharaja who had more wives than he had hair on his head, ladies and gentlemen," the tour guide chuckled at his own words. The group of tourists nodded in agreement. "One man, many wives, lucky man!" the tour guide chuckled again.
"The marble floors look like they're expensively done," Sushant bent down and ran his fingers through the beautiful mosaic. "The maharaja must have had a keen eye for intricacies," he told his friend who squatted beside him.
"Oh, the weather is hot. Too hot. Wonder when we'll stop for a drink. I'm thirsty," the baritone voice behind him complained. Sushant stood up and glanced behind. A man with jet black hair complemented with sporadic strands of grey had his back towards Sushant. The black shirt showed the well contoured shoulders and slim waist. The loose beige linen pants fitted well on his long legs. His arms were muscular and very tan. A silver steel watch slid up and down his wrist as he moved his hands to take short and quick puffs of his cigar. Sushant looked away at the tour guide who did not seem in any hurry to stop for a much need respite. He turned back toward the man in the black shirt and saw him looking amusingly at Sushant. The man tilted his head slightly to his left and smiled. Sushant returned a weak smile back at him at which the man walked slowly toward him, puffing at the cigar.
"He doesn't seem to stop rambling on about the maharaja, does he?" the man held out his hand. "Hi, I am Anant. I am visiting this place after a long hiatus in the UK. How about you?"
"I am Sushant. I live in the US but I am here on some archeological work. The history of the subcontinent has always fascinated me. And now I walk in the large hallways of this majestic palace," Sushant paused a few seconds, lowered his voice and spoke again, "tucked away in the folds of time." He turned toward the beautifully carved wall in front of them. "I am amazed to see how exquisitely these works of art have survived. And I marvel the minds that thought and acted to create such seductive elegance."
"You speak more like a poet than an archeologist, Sushant," the man laughed heartily.
"Is there a difference between the two?" Sushant asked earnestly.
"Oh, well," the man smiled, his lips turned decidedly to the right giving his face a debonair look. "I am not well informed on either of them. But one speaks the language of emotions and the other the language of artifacts."
"Yet both of them speak across time and speak of emblems of humanity," Sushant intervened. "Both of them speak of art. The poet speaks of beauty in feelings and visions and the archeologist uncovers them in what is tangible, felt in the rawness of the artifact yet somehow roughened with the winds of time."
"I shall not argue more," the man smoked the last of his cigar and threw the stub into the puddle of mouldy water in the courtyard. "What do you say we quit this monotonous chug-chug of a man and find a quiet place and a cool drink?"
"I couldn't agree more," Sushant said gratefully.
|
| rohini_a |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 07:11 PM
Chubby, I know your English sucks because you don't seem to be able to come up with posts more than a sentence long. I challenge you to write more than a sentence. I know you can't, because someone's ass cheeks are resting on your nose, that's why.
|
| kalebhut |
Posted
on 28-Apr-04 10:08 PM
Disaster. Makes no sense at all. I read it twice for god's sake.
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 29-Apr-04 08:39 AM
"It looks lovely, the snow," Aradhna looked wistfully from the slanted glass windows that formed the canopy for the Greenhouse. "And the greenery inside is equally beautiful."
Subhash walked to the collection of tall rubber plants and the short row of roses. "Yeah, everything looks so perfect!" he held a rose bud among his fingers and stroked it with his thumb.
Aradhna crept close to him. Something inside her shivered. "You are so gentle with delicate things." Subhash jerked his head sideways and turned on his feet only to come face to face with Aradhna who was only inches away from him.
"Well, yes. Some things deserve a lot of care," his voice trickled down his throat as he spoke.
"What do you think of me?" Aradhna's question was bold and firm. Subhash blushed from ear to ear. "You like me, don't you?" she continued. Subhash lowered his eyes and looked up quickly again.
"Who wouldn't?" he said softly. For the first time he saw her eyes. Their shape was like almonds. Her ample lashes curled gracefully and her brows arched attractively.
"And the artistic passion seething inside you takes my breath away." Aradhna said in a trance-like tone. Subhash merely smiled and looked deeply in her eyes. Aradhna held out her hand and touched his hands, lightly at first and firmly at his nervous response. His fingers were long and shapely. His hands were large and completely engulfed her smallish hands. Subhash shuddered with a feeling he couldn't articulate. Her touch was divine.
Aradhna felt like she was in a trance. Her feet stepped lightly on his. She gently withdrew her hands from his and held his face in them , softening his rough face with her fingers. The fragrance of roses, lavender, and light musk overpowered the air in the Greenhouse. Subhash closed his eyes as her hands lowered his face to hers. The snow fell faster and deeper.
|
| forget-me-not |
Posted
on 29-Apr-04 10:05 AM
SimpleGal..
Way to go...Waiting for the remaining.
Is this your own life story, re kya????
|
| Hellbound |
Posted
on 29-Apr-04 10:18 AM
Ajha jawos, waiting for it.
|
| SimpleGal |
Posted
on 29-Apr-04 07:14 PM
"You thought me a poet, but cleverly held back any divulsion about yourself Anant," Sushant sipped his salt Lassi. The ice brushed against his tongue. It brought relief.
"Haha! I suppose you are right. Well, there isn't anything exciting to tell about me. I am a free lance photographer and a writer of sorts," Anant smiled modestly.
"Aa ha! So I see where your conclusion about poetry came from. Writers are no less than poets!" Sushant chirped like a young child.
"They may be no less than poets, but they are no poets either, my dear fellow!" Anant lit a cigar as he sipped his cool drink of almond sherbet.
"What took you to the UK?" Sushant sprinkled some pepper on his drink.
"Ohhh!" Anant sighed heavily. "Sometimes life drives you from corner to corner. And in the end, having gone full circle, you realize there was no corner to begin with. Just an illusion. I was chasing my illusion." He puffed on his cigar and smiled at Sushant through the smoke.
"We all have our illusions."
"Some of us have realities ...." Anant averted his eyes and bit his lip. "Sometimes those realities seem like illusions until one day we feel the steely frames pressing against our bodies and squeezing us into incapacitated creatures."
"What do you mean?"
"There are a great many things that elude us. We think we know it, we think we've grabbed it and felt it in the rawness of our flesh, but it turns out we've been fooling ourselves all our lives." Anant held his cigar between his fingers and held out his hand to grab his drink.
"We are only human. Imperfect. Weak. Always hiding behind a facade. From whom? For what? We cannot answer ourselves. In the meantime, the clock ticks away and we forget the main reason we are here -- to LIVE. To see, to experience, to share, to suffer. It is easy to sit on the wayside and mentally masturbate. But I want to be the walker of the road. And here I am -- living the dreams I always dreamed, travel ing to the subcontinent and unraveling vestiges of time."
Anant chuckled and raised his drink. "To living the dreams! I couldn't agree more!" The two glasses struck each other and made a tinkling sound.
Sushant felt a strange shiver that began in his belly and swept through his loins and the entirety of his legs until it rested at the bottom of his feet.
A young boy toddled across the dusty road outside the restaurant where the two men sat sipping their drinks. He wore a bright orange shirt and no underwear and happily held a stick of candy in his hand.
|
