I was drenched again last evening..
It looked like it would rain..but then, in this city, it always does. And this time of the year, the clouds are usually conscientious about their promises.
Milk ,eggs, lettuce, butter, bread, noodles, mushrooms.. lovely rounded discs, raspberries stained with cocoa..gorgeous sparkling bottles pregnant with their enchanted aerations..guilt, first pangs..steering, veering, giving in..more beauty, soft dough..twisted temptresses...erect french fantasy..more milk, more eggs, chicken, wheat, soup...I breathe,mutter, confess, purge,relieve..relive.....Murky waters filled with fairies...no, no, no... Salt, fish, juice, soap, mugs, scrubs, tea, grapes....mutter, mutter, list, mutter...magical madness away...straight and narrow, focus, focus ..breath, breathe, chant, breath, envisage, vision, light...oh demons, angels, satanic pleasure...weeping, wandering ,wanton..cubes of darkness and danger..nestled in fragile tissue..rustling in my ears, my heart, my mind...fierce lust..fantastic fear...decision, diversion...the redness of pulp, warm, trickling, sweetened by desire, bottled by blasphemy..pure white sinner...shamelessly aged..masquerading ..mocking..pouring out its evil heart...beckoning at my heavy senses... milk ,eggs, lettuce, butter....breathe...
Oh lovely breath of rain and tea, sweetened by ginger and post coital-ish candour..
Gorgeous rain-streaked streets soak in their sodium shards..
I'm so late...
13 comments:
the best part about rain in India - its warm rain - you can live, love and laugh in that rain. :)
Interesting. But late for what if I may ask?
UNTIL - she is just coming home late as she was held bup by the rain, dont seek hidden meanings!!!
Sorry for that aside - Well, u have a beautiful expression weaving coourful imagery thru words, not a single sentence anywhere, just words, words words- wish i could copy your style if u have not patented it. But then will be stuck for words, the beautiful words u use and the seaquencing which only u could produce.
One word about the postscript. After the rains have subsided and u have your morning cuppa, it is not post-coital candour, i think post-orgasmic would be the mot juste.
im intrigued and charmed:)
Mahima- some of my lovliest memories and association are in the rains..
Until - you saw me drenched to my underwear that night didnt you?
vichchoobhai- late for rehearsal.
thanks for the kind words.
you must have interesting mornings. mine are simply about tea.
Sine Qua Non - thanks for returning my visit. Lovely:)
ah...right..sorry...wasn't thinking straight!
I think tae is better.... it could be tea personalised. :)
I love my morning tea, and my evenings one too.... oh bliss, tea with the rain coming down outside.
I'm very indian in these things potty..
I love it strong with milk and spices and ginger..
And like mahima, the rain makes it special.
Your nightmare thinkpotty?:)
Post-coital morning... a mild drizzle... cool, crisp air... and a cup of Assam tea.
Oh yum...
Therapy:
Thats the only way to lie.
;)
love that line post coital-ish candour!
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