Lady and The Girl

“The lady…the lady develops first on the scene of what follows later…Grandeur…Grandeur is emphasised. Grandeur of feminist mights in the lady’s presence. It’s replaced. Grandeur comes before the lady now but if there’s no lady before, then grandeur loses its existence so the lady takes over first. The lady emerges with her feminist grandeur. She rests like a serpent, casually, but radiating venomous charms. White leather sheets with reddish golden work of royal craft on a neatly polished devaan decorated with rubies and hints of diamond in the furniture’s wooden crown above the seat.”
Sailov extended back and rested himself on the chair with closed eyes pleasuring on his thoughts. He was brought back from his thoughts by an expression of ‘mmhmm’ coming in a voice muffled with wonder. Murbliene looked thoughtful with awe in her expression. She wanted Sailov to go on with a hint of reluctance. Sailov looked at his phone and dived into the mists rising from the beautiful waterfall of thoughts.
“There aside the vastness of the room with a deevan in the centre is built a deep fireplace with black marbled borders in a reddish royal wall with a dimly golden ambient light. Panels of….”
‘Fireplace? Honestly?’ Exclaimed Murbliene ‘I’d die of heat’. Sailov was awakened from a dream. He nervously tapped his phone with tightened lips. A few quick desperate breaths escaped his nostrils. ‘We can change it and adjust the thermostat hidden somewhere or something…’,he hastened with the words but Murbliene was not finished yet,’I do love the fireplace though. I love the crackling voice of wood.’ Sailov was frustrated beyond her imaginations. He tried and failed in those few moments, forming more and more incomplete conjectures. ‘Alright no fires’, he finally managed those words.
“Panels…Wood….Panels of wood immaculately line up on the floor, giving it a polished look. The shine of polish protests against the sweet darkness that surrounds it in the room. To put this brightness to shame a carpet, woven by the most skilful hands with threads of golden and red mixing in it, yet having their distinct presence, was stretched over the wooden panels touching the feet of deevan.”
‘The sound of wood. Dang! That’s a sound to sleep by. Don’t you think so my dear Sailov?’, Murbliene put forward without paying any heed to his thoughts. ‘Are we stuck on that sound?’ Sailov gave himself away to irritation. She laughed at his frustration and he was horrified over the odd blasphemy that he had created. ‘Sit right there my dear and I’ll be back in a moment.’, Murbliene stood from her couch and left him hanging in his thoughts.
“Spangles of lights coloured the lady’s arm resting on her body. Her black satin dress showed her shoulders on which rested the silk of her hair. The bare legs stretched over the deevan with a slight bent in one of them. She seemed to lay down the conventional rules of putting her body there in elegance. Her face was one of the wonders of beauty that overshadowed other things in the room. Her countenance was vibrant. It turned into anger and then confusion. She was calm again and then a laughter broke out. Her temples showed lines of anger and the room started crackling with fire. Sailov was engulfed by fire. He could not feel it though but screams went out from the side where the lady was present. Sailov whirled and whirled. The lady grew in size and shape. She took the form of a giantess but her looks remained the same. The dress failing to match her new size tore off in the while. Fire and smoke circled around her and seemed to kneel before her. She smirked and the crackling of wood took form of some sweet music. Sailov was silent. He loved the music and wanted to live and hear it till his last.”
‘I’m back!’, announced Murbliene on her return ‘you can continue with your story.’ Sailov remained silent and then uttered,’it doesn’t work that way, being passionate is a curse.’ ‘No it’s not. It’s a blessing’, hinted Murbliene. ‘People can’t reach where the thoughts reside. Thoughts of a passionate person’, Sailov said without an expression. Murbliene realised,’I’m sorry’. ‘Don’t be’, replied Sailov while tapping his cellphone. ‘You will understand it someday what a writer feels’,he stood while saying that. ‘Or maybe not’, Sailov added that before closing the door behind him, leaving Murbliene alone in the room.

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