The Girl in Pink

It was six in the evening and the month was June, the shore which was so close to the hill made the air unpleasantly humid. Presently however the evening breeze was putting my body at ease, I was throbbing after the several high steps I had climbed. I made my way to the temple gate and stopped to take my sandals off, I saw this girl in her early twenties wearing a pink dress. It was a salwar kameez with no sleeves. Her face was pleasantly long, the curves around her cheekbones delicate, and her fragrance sensual. I noticed the elegant corners of her large eyes that did not look at me, but in them I could sense an awareness of having found an admirer. So subtle and mysterious was their emotion, that I could feel it’s poison fill my manhood with a pleasant stupor. I lingered a while as she entered the temple gates and my eyes parsed her figure with wild guilt. The curves had an effortless flow and were veiled in an elegant attire. She was with her parents and after they were done with the temple they waited in the compound, all this while my eyes followed her, I was ravishing that subtle pleasure which plays on a woman’s face when she is admired, and just like that she was gone. I looked around the premises in vain. I was staying at my sister’s holiday home and an aunt of mine had to leave for the city the next day. I accompanied her to the bus stand. As I walked into the stand I saw her again with her family. Our eyes met and I found recognition in them. Their bus was ready, they went in with their luggage, but the afternoon was blazing and the bus very unlivable. I saw her coming towards the door for some air and standing there with her back towards me. My gaze was steady and I saw her turn her head to look at me. Through the slit of the half open door her eyes met mine and stayed there. This happened for one timeless moment, then she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

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