A Kashmiri in Goa

While on vacations, meeting souls from different world is a kind of thing most of us appreciates, especially when those vacations are in Goa – the heaven for young people and artists from different spheres. It was a fine tropical sunny morning and I was having breakfast, at a restaurant not far from Baga beach, with my friends. I finished breakfast quickly and excused myself.  I needed to visit medical shop to get some antibiotics. While on my way to it I saw a man in his 40s sitting right outside his shop having glasses perched on his wrinkled nose performing art of sculpting on a very fine piece of wood. It was a long rectangular piece of wood as though an edge section of some furniture he might have been working on. I looked at the plank at the top of the shop – Walnut Wood Classic Furniture– without halting.  I had seen the shop already a couple times during my stay in that area and perceived it an antique shop.

While returning from the medical shop I stopped by and asked the man if I can take few photos while he was working. He smiled and generously invited me to click photos.  I ran to the restaurant, asked the friend who had camera in his hands and quickly returned to this artist looking man with camera. He welcomed me and I began clicking pictures. Though I never had much experience with camera I tried my best to click pictures of this woodcrafter while working.

In the process, I started talking to him. My main objective was to know about him and his work. I was very much intrigued by what he was doing with that piece of wood. His hands and chisel were touching that wood with a determination of artist. His name was Mansoor Chacko and he belonged to Kashmir. A Kashmiri Muslim wood crafter. A Kashmiri in Goa –the very thought struck in my head.  This raised my curiosity to know more about him. To him, I was a mere tourist, despite of it I told him a little about myself. He told me that this shop of his deals in classic Kashmiri wooden furniture and showpieces. They all were handmade and example of finest Kashmiri art of wood crafting.

Since, when you are working on that piece of wood?

‘8 days I have been working on it’.

And, how long would it take before it’s ready.

‘20 more days. Approximately’.

How a Kashmiri wood sculptor ends up working at a place which is famous for beaches, beer, babes, and party?

 He looked at my face as though seeking my intention behind this very question.

‘I came to Goa with the help of my uncle in 1989 when insurgency took Kashmir by storm.’

When did you first start working in this craft?

‘When I was 15 or 16, I learnt everything from ‘abba’ my father. I used to watch him giving shape to raw walnut wood. But I never wanted to work in this craft.’

Why? I was astounded by his revelation. He was so good in this art and though he never wanted to work in this craft.

 ‘I have done B.Sc. in Medicine in 1986 and had a seat secured for MBBS in medical college. I could be doctor today. However, father desired me to take this craft further.  I could be sculpting human body today, instead of banging piece of wood and loosing precious eye sight.’

When he spoke, I saw no regret in his eyes as though that sad story of not being able to follow ones ambition wasn’t his, it belonged to someone else. It left me with deep thoughts. He had been in this craft since almost 3 decades without any regret, perhaps he had learnt to love his work.

Since friends were waiting and we were on schedule, I needed to stop my conversation with him and I left him with a promise of paying visit in the evening. Whole day I spent on beaches or bars, however, thought of knowing more about the woodcrafter didn't allow me to have the mirth of Goa. I waited for us to return to our rented apartment and to have a sweet water shower.

Again, when I arrived at his shop he wasn't there, went to see his daughter who was little sick. I waited in front of his shop, gazing at articles placed inside. Every item was distinctive in its own way. And then, I saw him coming in my direction. I was ready with camera to capture as much as I could. We sat down outside his shop and began talking.

He was disappointed by the fact that use of machinery had taken out the uniqueness of this craft. There had been times when crafters would craft every piece of wood with their hand and the finished articles were in itself the signature of that artist. But, now this signature was disappeared you can create many articles and all would look alike, without any distinctiveness. It all happens because they want to achieve the work of 30 days to be done in 7 days. Now it is more like production in factory then a creative process. And, this subverted the appreciation which people used to shower on us because of handwork and distinctiveness, doesn't matter if they buy it or not. Many customers see the articles and say, ‘What is the difference, all lookalike in terms of design.’ though they understand the difference. Everyone is looking for cheap deal over an artists work.

Since now, it is all about ostentation, not appreciation and all about the cheap deal; we also have to make things in that way. This way the fun in sculpting and excellence of art diminishes but we can’t help it. Money is the way to survival. No one pays us the way European artists and sculptors have been paid. We produce the excellent artwork but no one pays us what we deserve for that kind of work.

What first thing you have made out of walnut wood, I asked.

It was a magazine rack and unique in itself. I created it from my imagination. Then I made tables, boxes and other articles. I sculpted stands for Quran and Gita. My created stands are completely different from what you find in the market.  In Kashmir, we mostly use the Mughal arch design. It has a place to keep the holy book when not reading and can use the stand which is a part of box itself when reading. 

Most of my inspiration I drew from my father. Due to interest I used to sit with him and that’s how I learnt this craft.

In Kashmir, we have four basic designs Chinaar, Grapes, Lotus and Rose. These depicts four seasons in Kashmir. However, other designs are mostly taken from different places and cultures and then they were mingled with our basic design. Like, Mughal arch is not a Kashmiri design but when you see it closely you will find the difference.

Let me show you I have written something. When I was writing I didn't know if I would be able to complete it or not, he said.

I thought, he would show me a piece of paper where something had been written. But when he brought me inside his shop and showed a plank of wood, upon which some wonderful art work had been done, I was left astound. Then, I knew what he meant by ‘Written’. He had sculpted his thought on the wood plank. By looking at it from naked eyes no one could say that it was something from already established design. It was the thought in his heart which he had written on wood plank in the form of sculpting.

He had been crafting it since 6 months and doesn't want to sale it since according to him it’s not yet complete.

I asked him, if he would wish to have his son take this art further. He denied it, straightforward. The reasons were obvious, this particular art is dying and people with resources are not willing to save it. Had Kashmir been independent or peaceful this art would have been flourishing. Insurgency had taken away the ways of development and swallowed future of maximum Kashmiris and their coming generations. To him, Kashmiri Pandits left Kashmir due to militancy and started their life all again but for the left behind Kashmiri Muslims it’s an unending effort, they had to start their life all again after every shoot out, after every bomb blast, after every encounter, after every evening, after every night. To them, it’s a never ending torment.

You can take a Kashmiri out of Kashmir but you can’t take Kashmir out of a Khashmiri.

It took me a little while before I understood this fact completely. Even a little more than 2 decades later he wanted to go back to Kashmir. He wanted to live his old age there in peaceful valleys. We all wish for the peace in Kashmir, but his wish is little more than that, It was a craving. Though he had been earning his livelihood in Goa since 2 decades but he had bought no property there to live. He still lives in rented place. His most customers are non Indians who come to Goa and leave with Classic Kashmiri wooden furniture. He had learnt Russian so that he could comfortably deal with them. He recounted the brutal days of insurgency when curfew loomed over misty valleys in Kashmir for many days and in those days to find a pinch of salt for food was a sort of struggle. He gave accounts of ruined Kashmiri generations due to closed schools, colleges and revolution.

He said, Kashmiri can be compared only with Palestinians because the way they crave for their land, similarly a Kashmiri crave for Kashmir. No one in India or Pakistan can understand what it means to be a Kashmiri. We are different people with different sort of things and culture.

Now, to him it doesn't matter who gets Kashmir - India or Pakistan – What he is wishing for, is peace. Grant peace to Kashmir and that’s their only wish. He said something which clearly states the plea of Kashmiri people ‘Ek Taraf Naqab-posh Hai, Dusari Taraf Wardi-posh Hai aur Beech me Safaid-posh, Matlab Kashmiri.’ (At one end we have mask clad terrorists or separatist, at another end we have uniform clad army and in between we are, the white clad Kashmiris)

In the end, he introduced me with his kids, elder daughter ‘Filza’ younger daughter ‘Maliha’ and an infant son ‘Murtuza’. Both his daughters were in school in Kashmir. Their holidays were going on and hence they were with their father in Goa. Despite all what he had seen and felt in life he was looking hopeful for the future of his next generation.

To India or Pakistan, Kashmir is nothing but a strategic location to have control over but to Kashmiris it's their homeland, it’s their motherland. It is everything they have. 

Supreme Court, I Disregard Your Decision

Supreme Court of India has upheld a law which is more than 150 years old. And the Justice who actually upholds the law is, if not 65 then 60 years old. It’s such an irony that LGBT community which have started getting properly recognized and seeking their rights since 3 decades were slapped by a justice who is double the age of this fight. In the great Indian epic ‘Mahabharata’ Bhism Pitamaah had refused to use weapon against a transgender out of respect and moral code, and was also as old as the justice of Supreme Court. However, in present times the justice Bhism Pitamaah has unleashed a force against these people by upholding that decayed law.

I have read somewhere that Law can’t be absolute. It subject to time and circumstance and as soon as the time and conditions change the law becomes obsolete. So either 150 years have not passed or the conditions have not changed a bit. Nevertheless, I don’t agree with both, since in those times Indian society was a conservative society, but today, after 150 years even the law claims or I must say proclaims that Indian society is a liberal society and if it stands as true as the moral of Bhism Pitamaah then why the rights of LGBT have not been given to them. They are not asking for any favor, what they are asking is their birth right: Pursuit to Happiness and Acceptance like any other human being on earth.

In my hometown, when a transgender comes parents try to get blessings, for their children, from them. Parents say their blessings have a real effect. There is a transgender who is a good friend of my father. At my elder brother’s marriage they have been invited to bless the bride and groom. So gracefully they blessed both and put a good show. This friendship goes almost 15 years back in time. And, I am sure there are others like my father who have friendship with these people and have respect too. So, the society wants to leverage their divine power, if they really have one, but not ready to give them their rights. This is an unfair deal and on top of it we have criminalized their sexual urge.

There are not just transgender but Lesbian, Gay and Bisexuals. Every living being on this earth is born with a right to have sex according to its orientation. When God itself has not discriminated this world based on sexual orientation then who are these religious conservatives to challenge the will of Almighty.

I am straight so I can have sex but a Gay can’t, this is like imprisoning the ultimate desire of a human. This is far worse than the death penalty. If Gay sex is penalized by life imprisonment then be it because even by inhibiting that ultimate desire is far worse than that imprisonment. No one chooses to be gay, lesbian, transgender or bisexual, it is an inner desire like Love where logics and arguments don’t work. And, a LAW against it is obviously an atrocity.

People have forgotten the fact that sex is not just a mechanism of reproduction. It’s more than that; it’s a way to relieve ones soul. Had it just been a way of reproduction, and not the ultimate pleasure, ‘Kama sutra’ the ancient guide of love would have not been written. When straight people can take pleasure from sex and relieve their souls and mind then why can’t a Lesbian, a Gay, a Bisexual, and a Transgender.

I am a straight man and support LGBT cause from my conscience and disregard the decision of Supreme Court. 

Novel - Destined Lives

At last unveiling the Book Cover of 'Destined Lives - Journey till the Start'

Visit the official facebook page of Novel by clicking at below link

Destined Lives Story of Sassi

Blurb

Sassi, a 9 years old girl from Darjeeling, land of extensive tea plantations finds solace and love in the company of lollipop giver Mohanty Babu more than her parents. When she was sent to hostel and Mohanty ascertains, he vanishes from there... never to return. Sassi takes an oath to forget the past yet tries to sketch his face multitudinously, but in vain.

She goes to Sikkim on a student exchange program where she meets Veer, a tall handsome guy with a husky voice and charismatic eyes and above all an Army Officer who was never destined to be a part of her life.

Delhi embraces the wounded Sassi with open arms, where Raj enters her life as a flatmate only to soon discover that this was no coincidence. It was a well planned script by fate which began in 1965 and had its roots laid down in the failed mission where nuclear device was lost in Nanda Devi Peaks.

Destined Lives

‪#‎Novel‬ Destined Lives is soon going to be released.
Watch this space for Book Cover which is Soon going to be Unveiled ....

Destined Lives

Journey till the Start…

Rajveer Singh Prajapati

Sex, an act by organs or an emotion or an expression?

This Saturday, a flat-mate of mine has called me on my cell-phone, “Hey, is the bedroom occupied today?” I knew his purpose behind the enquiry still I asked, “Why do you want the bedroom free?”

“For the same reason a man live for. Please have it unoccupied for a couple of hours.” He requested and kept the call.

He hadn’t come home that night, I understood he must have met someone somewhere and this generally takes place when weekend is around the corner. When he had arrived with his girl, he found my laptop and me along with music system in the hall. His girl and he both entered bedroom and quickly but softly shut the door behind. I followed both of them entering bedroom with grounded heads and inflicted smiles which carried a tinge of shy or perhaps guilt – not sure. Why sex is a taboo, I thought, when it seemed to everyone as though a basic human need. Well, intercourse bring pleasure to both Adam and Eve, however, despite of it lot of other strings are tied to it and without those threads no Adam or Eva can indeed reach the pleasure of intercourse.

I generally find two kind of sex in the world – one which is love induced and other, which is body induced. Love induced sex is accepted and seen with respect in the society given social terms & conditions carried out in advance. However, the body induced sex is forbidden in so called civilized society. But to keep the balance in societal globe body induced sex which is commonly known by the names of extra-marital affairs, prostitution, and gigolos are essential. Though, body induced sex is interdicted, it existed in the most civilized corners of every civilization, known by the name of Red-Light-Area which had been formed and maintained to quench the sexual thirst of body.

If sex as a whole is really that important then why is it seemed as taboo, why is it not accepted as love – after all love induced sex is a byproduct of love and it’s essential ingredient of love. When mind loves someone it indicates that love by pouring out emotions and feelings. But, what about body – how body indicates its love for some other body? I believe it’s the touch by which body indicates its love for another body and to confirm the same love it has to have sex with that body. Well, body doesn’t think or make radical decisions, it needs whatever it needs, after all body has got some needs which has to be fulfilled such like brain which needs love and it achieves it by finding love, once, twice, thrice…depending on person to person.

Let’s paint sex on a larger canvas and what we find is that it is a bodily act of love where it doesn’t single out anyone on any lines. I am not talking in line with the great love stories of Romeo-Juliet or Heer-Ranjha or Sohni-Mahiwaal. What I am saying is if sex by love-need is justifiable then why not sex by bodily-need. Nevertheless, it’s the body that does it and brings all pleasure to brain and logics of love. If satisfaction is a mere state of mind then in sex it is achieved by body, doesn’t matter if it was love induced sex or body induced, because sex is sex and it has its own sovereign importance.

Many times sex is seen as an act of expression. Sometimes to know the passion of love one has to go through the act of sex, not by the chit-chatting. Sometimes real, unaltered emotion can only be experienced in the act of sex. Most people hide their emotion in daily life but this act of hiding doesn’t work for them when they indulge in sex. If the bodily act of sex brings so much truth about oneself in the light from darkness then considering it as taboo is an act of hiding, lying and deceit.

I don’t know on what terms our societal threads have been woven but there is a thread of sex which sometimes, I believe is wronging placed in the fabric of civilization. People don’t generally deceit for love but for sex. I guess that need of having bedroom available for couple of hours by my friend was to achieve that truth about his own love, passion and oneself. He must have lied a couple of things to that girl and the girl must have lied a couple of things to him based on the fact that sex in civilized corner of world is a taboo. If it wasn’t a taboo then they must have not lied about a single thing to each other. Doesn’t matter if they hide some truth or not but they achieved their momentarily truth by indulging in the act of sex. There, they were true to each other, no matter if it stayed like that only a quarter of an hour.

O Dearest, Let Me Say...

O dearest, at least listen to what I have to say…

It’s been long since I last spoke to you,

My heart, bleed in sorrow as and when I thought of you,

Quill of remembrance caused it an unbearable pain,

Though, this heart never complaint,

Now, let’s put some life in a fresh paper,

Since trust in lively bodies was there never,

What should I say about my words,

When tears were not seen by any of us,

It’s been a long since I am wide awake,

What to do …this evening doesn't move ahead,

And, how come I sleep in those sheets,

When no crumple could be left on its fine crease,

I want to call out my only name,

However, if you had given me the same,

Now what else could I say to you,

Since your eyes don’t blush in my view,
O dearest, at least listen to what I have to say…

Image: Courtesy to Google search

India, A Nation For Loot...

I still remember the days from my school, where I used to love history subject. Especially, the section of India’s glorious history. Being born in a country as great as India I used to feel pride, but it was when I was in school where the study booked were cooked by ministry of Education. I remember the time frame from 5^th standard to 10^th standard, when the feeling of nationalism and patriotism had filled my heart. That time, I wanted to join Indian Army to serve this great nation. Then, as I moved higher in my education and learned things outside of academic book, the curtain of cooked education had begun to fall apart and all the problems and weaknesses of my great nation started introducing to me.

We brag about being the largest democratic country of the world, but is it really the case? Do we really live in a democratic country? If yes, then what happened to the basic rights of citizens? Why political leaders looting citizens of India without a pinch of fear as though after God they have the real power. However, in the school I have been taught that people are the most powerful in democracy, is it really the case?

Few might not agree with my views toward my own country but that’s not the point.  The point is, I want to see my country as what I have learnt in my school days. Am I being unreasonable?

I believe NOT.

Let’s go back in time and see How India was getting formed. When India was in the process of getting freedom from the claws of Great British Queen, Sir Winston Churchill made speech before British Parliament against the Idea of Indian Independence.

“Let the House remember this. The Indian political parties and political classes do not represent the Indian masses. It is a delusion to believe that they do. I wish they did. They are not as representative of them as the movements in Britain represent the surges and impulses of the British nation. This has been proved in the war … … The Congress Party declared non-co-operation with Great Britain and the Allies. … … the Muslim League, sought to make a bargain about it, but no bargain was made. … … Nevertheless, the only great volunteer army in the world that fought on either side in that struggle was formed in India. More than three and a half million men came forward to support the King-Emperor and the cause of Britain; they came forward not by conscription or compulsion, but out of their loyalty to Britain and to all that Britain stood for in their lives. In handing over the Government of India to these so-called political classes we are handing over to men of straw, of whom, in a few years, no trace will remain.

This Government, by their latest action, this 14 months limitation—which is what I am coming to— (will) cripple the new Viceroy and destroy the prospect of even going through the business on the agenda which has to be settled. This can only be explained as the complete adoption of one of Mr. Gandhi’s most scatterbrained observations, which I will read to the House. It was made on 24th May, 1942, after the Mission. He said: Leave India in God’s hands, in modem parlance, to anarchy; and that anarchy may lead to internecine warfare for a time, or to unrestricted dacoities. From these a true India will arise in place of the false one we see. There, as far as I can see, is a statement indistinguishable from the policy His Majesty’s Government are determined to pursue.”

I know he had always had hatred for India and Indians, yet he saw what most couldn’t even bother to see. He said what most couldn’t even care to think. Perhaps, it was his hatred that compelled him to look at the aspects most couldn’t. And interestingly, I believe his hatred had led him to learn and disclose all the socio-political flaws about India. His speech was – in a way – partly outcome of his hatred toward India but in current times it feels as though a Prophecy. Seems, it was a prediction made by an old English man 66 years ago before the most powerful house.

After Independence and partition, great leaders of those times fought for the union of India. They brought all princely states and regions together to form world’s largest democracy and greatest nation. Unfortunately, those dreams could not see the light of reality or perhaps died with them. Instead of strengthening as a nation we started falling apart. Naxal movement which had shrouded more than half the nation coupled with other revolutionary movement for separation from India like Khalistan, are one of most the most notable political movements. Besides, consider the North eastern ignored states which ultimately led to the formation of more insurgency or revolutionary groups who grabbed weapons against the Government. And then, the rise of movements and diplomatic talk about formation and breaking up of existing states in the name of region and culture – commonly known as the politics of regionalism.

Recently government Okayed the formation of new state Telangana from Andhra Pradesh. Was it really required? I don’t think so. Why would people ask for a new state : for recognition, for more rights, for ethnic issues, for cultural reasons – are these reasons enough for the creation of states, if yes then I must say don’t give them new state better give them a altogether new country. Let these people serve their ego and reasons for which they fought for new state.

Since independence, politics of regionalism is being played and with time it becomes more and more powerful. Because of it, Chhattisgarh got separated from Madhya Pradesh, Jharkhand got separated from Bihar, Uttarakhand got separated from Uttar Pradesh and now Telangana from Andhra Pradesh. These are the ones that got separation from parent state but there are many more which are still waiting for their separation: Vidarbha wants its separation from Maharashtra, Gorkhaland wants its separation from West Bengal and on top of that former Chief Minister of UP Mayawati proposed the breakup of Uttar Pradesh into four separate state for the sake of economic development - Purvanchal, Bundelkhand, Awadh Pradesh and Pashchim Pradesh. Is this some kind of joke or something else?

Does this politics of regionalism really beneficial for the population of those states? In India, only richer are getting richer and same is the story of these newly formed states. Only political and business class which normally holds power everywhere have benefited from the politics of divided states, the major population doesn’t get anything else except a new state or to be precise a change in the addresses. It is the political agenda, not the people agenda still people watch these dirty games which are being played in open and sit tight. No one wants to open their mouth, no one wants to utter a word, no one wants to take a stand. It seems we all desperately want to see the destruction of our mother land. We never needed any invader army or foreign power to do that since we are well capable of doing it with utmost peace. Without any bloodshed we want to see the destruction of our beloved country.  Besides, why do we care, since India was never our country, It was originally formed by British after winning all princely states in the Indian sub-continent and putting them together.

Winston Churchill had always carried hatred for India and today, I feel it was justified, since he saw how careless and dumb we are, how cheap and selfish we are, what kind of looters and senseless we are. He saw all flaws in us and perhaps that’s the reason he could predict about our coming generation and country’s future. Within same country people hate each other: Marathi people don’t welcome people from North India, Assamese don’t welcome people from Bengal, Biharis don’t welcome people from Assam – because that is what our political classes and leaders taught their followers and these dumb followers began following their agenda without even pondering over the feeling of Nationalism. No political class or leader in India talks about Nationalism and still India is a nation. Here I would like to say that India is the nation of shameless and spineless people.

We, as India loosing our power and influence over the world not because foreign powers doing it, actually they don’t require to do or think evil for India, since we Indians are enough for the same. We are so weak within that we can’t hold the power. In fact, we hold no right to hold any sort of power. Living in modern times, we behave like primitives. People in India are getting literate in the institutions like IIM or IITs but still they are not getting educated.

Political people are serving their political purpose at the expense of Indian public and they have been doing it since very long time. Enough is enough but to them there is no enough. I heard somewhere that Society is not run by morality but laws and that too laws of that particular time. And in India, to loot and mislead has become the law, it seems. Everyone here wants to make loot and morality has lost its meaning. We have put our country for sale but in pieces, whosoever is ready to pay can own our souls and so the nation.  Rotten the character better the prospect of life, it is the new mantra of survival in this country. Wait a little, and few more would rise and agitate for the demand of new states. Not far, when people would like to start forming plans about making their own city or Mohallah a new state.

Welcome to BandarBa’nt of India…

Note : Those who think or perceive that I have insulted India then better go back and clean your own character. Before raising finger on me or on my thoughts clear the dirt from your mind and heart. And, if you are clean enough then you would understand my logic and anger behind this write-up. I am a Nationalist man and my nationalism nowhere permits me to accept such division of my nation in the name of new States. 

Images : Courtesy to google search

A Lone Long Hair

A Lone long hair – where does it come from, I had no idea. But, obviously it had invoked my thoughts. It wasn’t the first time I had ever encountered single long hair, still it caught strings of my heart, as though it was something of a wonder. That night, when I entered my bedroom I switched on lights and thoughtfully glanced at neat and tidy bed. It was an unintended glance, though still carried a sense of morbidity. Along with eyes, body too suddenly felt burdened with tiredness and clothes. White cotton shirt on my torso reveal the monochromatic state of my heart and an old faded denim blue pair of jeans narrated the exhaustiveness of my life’s journey.

Slowly, I opened all buttons of the shirt and let it fall on floor, then took out jeans and dropped it at the spot where shirt had, as though had been preparing for a battle, and, wrapped a loincloth around my waist like a primitive. While staring at the discarded clothes, I sat down on my bed and stretched hands rearward. When I fall back and my back met bed I brought my hands forward to see them. There, somewhere in the right hand’s fingers I discovered a lone long hair tangled caused by its silky smooth curls. Its edge shone like a twinkling star due to light falling on from a very special angle. I marveled at its curly beauty. Being a dead long hair, it appeared so alive to me that it brought life to my dead emotions. I felt a bloom inside and with it the very obvious question – how it reached my lonely bed - just vanished. I didn’t even bother to relate it to some identity, since within I felt it belonged to me.

I turned around to glance at the corner from where it caught my fingers. It was a corner edge of the bed, where a veiled gap, between mattress and wooden platform, existed. It unveiled the memories of lost times. Her young face shone in that room exactly the way this lone long hair had. We were young and had a long life waiting to be lived before us. She sat on bed, wore nothing except my full-sleeved white shirt, with two buttons from the top wide-open affording way to bosoms, and had long open hairs like a twinkling night. In loincloth, I sat on a chair adjacent to study table, where around the typewriter white papers with black syllables scattered. Some of them bore, poems I wrote for her, some bore her sketch, some bore short stories depicting her mighty beauty that would even cause God to feel jealous. Room was filled with her aroma and our love. For the first time in life, I had understood and felt purity. In those moments, the room was the purest place in entire universe, where existed pure love and untouched aroma. Innocent smile, the only expression she wore around her lips and it reflected in the form of gleam in her dark eyes.

I stood up to touch her face. With one hand, gently grabbed long hairs at the back of her neck and with other I softly touched her left cheek. She closed eyes as though in surrender and waited with fairly open lips for my fingers, so that she could plant a kiss on its tips. Slowly, my other hand slide down to her slim waist and soon the hand on her cheek joined it. As soon as our lips melt in, I gently pressed her waist by thumps at either side just to find ourselves tangled. Love rained like never before. Never ever in any corner of universe, the souls met each other the way ours met in those moments. With folded eyes, I watched her melting in me, taking my passion to the heights I ever imagined.

Eventually, I opened my eyes just to find myself alone in my bed while that lone long hair still held on to my fingers just to glint more. I felt as though I didn’t sleep nevertheless, lived those moments. Tiredness persisted in me but eyes felt no burden. With lone long hair in my fingers, I stood up and walked up to the dressing mirror. There, I saw it to its length while taking notice of its shade at different length. Inside the mirror, I found her sitting on my bed, smiling at me, wearing my white cotton shirt, which, last night, I left on the floor, and laughing out at my grey short hairs.

Image: Courtesy to google image search.