Love. Lust. Opportunity. Experimentation. Reticence. Victory.
They intertwined, only after they thanked their stars. Their novice-ness and its novelty to it made awkward moments amusing and mistakes cute. They heaved and sighed alternately and respectively, celebrating union and accepting with equanimity the impending bereavement. Clock was ticking.
"Now this day is ending/ Here we stand to pray/ Thank You loving Father/ For the happy day/ Thank you for the lessons/ For the games we play/ For the other children/Standing here to pray."
A hum of the day-ending prayer at school replayed in her head as she walked past over-cautiously the obviously empty lanes. She could never have snapped off links with her school, their school.
"Bon Voyage Juliet."
-14 June, 2009
Holy howlings. Vermillion. Chuda. Husband. Suffix "in-law". Luncheon. Society. Culture. Age. Ripe Age. Self(?)
She had lied on her bed since evening now, not even had changed her wet jogging attire. She had bragged to the dry friends that she had tasted freedom jogging in the rain on the country road!
Recoiling her leg away from the cob-web in the two-month-uncleaned-hostel-room, she stared blankly in to the Obama poster in her room. It said, among other things, Change and Hope. Change was happening, yet may be I should continue to hope, she thought.
She thought about the futility of her 20 years of midnight toil and the pedagogic infliction of academic pain. She thought of herself, and her future. Future was tending towards present. She could not think of marriage at 20. Not a parent sponsored one. Unless of course she thought of eloping, only when the golden marriagable age of 18 usually assumed utmost importance. But, then eloping is not one of those games which is played singly!
Where is thou eloper lady?
Is he hardly ready?
The cob-web seemed to be moving towards her wet socks.
-16 June, 2009.