He
sat with her at the edge of the roof stone. There was no ambience, no well-lit
décor, sans color and luminosity the mood appeared gall and wormwood. The
breeze hit him heavy while her wind-whipped hair flickered like shadow of fire.
Their conscious moves intermittently moved like the rolling ball in hollow
tunnel. Their muscles flexed and expressions changed like puffs of vapor. The
moment passed by like the tedious walk in a long and droughty corridor.
She
should have told him everything before he found all about her. He was pained
more than he could cry and whimper. He was after all the wrongly shot hog. He
was burning in wrath, anguish and distress. The blood curdling silence grew in
there but an eddying mumble rubbed him the wrong way. She admitted to all with
downcast eyes showing packed remorse. Nevertheless, that was not enough. He
wanted her to feel the same pain and anguish his heart bore.
I
could use some of my time for watching television today because yesterday I
worked hard to finish an obscure assignment. Work from home sometimes just
thumps on your brains, its doubling mirth. And yeah you get to work double than
your desk. Sigh! I had watched a lot of TV series already. Grey’s anatomy was
featuring on the TV since morning. It was so recurrent that I thought I have
got ensnared in a time loop. It has never entertained me like other series so I
thought to flip channels when I came across a scene from some Hindi soap which
looked interesting (partially). The above description was something I was
watching while nibbling each morsel of my lunch. I wanted to understand why so
and so (actually a whooping %) of women of our country watches these daily
soaps. The above was shown in some good 20 minutes. Those 20 minutes were the
longest, I swear. I didn’t know what expressions should have been right for the
usual soap scenes; canned gaiety? A raucous guffaw?? Or may be just bare
giggles…
