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I stare bewildered at her dazzling frame trying to lure something else to emerge, but all that I can find is her beauty. The delicate curve of her neck, her slender arms gleaming in the sunlight that doesn’t reach down to street level, the proud bosom hugged by blue fabric. Dimples, freckles, dyed black hair, painted blue nails. I stare, that is all I can do, and spread my hands in a non-committing gesture of confusion. Please understand, please guide me, lead me, love me. Again that laugh, and she rolls her eyes to my helpless condition. A thumb and a nod tell me, around the corner, and an amused eyebrow whispers, you clown. I blow her a kiss, it seems appropriate, and attack the pungent river of crowd oozing along around me. A purpose, a focus. I have a goal now. To reach the angel, to take her in my arms and let her carry my drifting soul in whatever direction she sees fit. It is trust at it’s most basic. I have to trust my love, and the memory of a nursery rhyme on constant. We entered the small hut where the husband was making the tea. The wife was serving it to the only group of customers who came in an Omni.My sleep went all away seeing a cushiony soft fleshy wife of the tea maker. I ordered tea with my eyes transfixed on a cushiony hottie. Let’s call her Archana. When our eyes met for the very first time, my facial expression was indicative of her about my hunger/craving/lust with a watery mouth.She just blushed with her cheek wrinkling on only one side, which was my first signal. A sudden idea erupted inside my head. I sat in the hut and started the conversation with the tea maker, telling him our situation of sleep loss and plan of taking rest for the next 2 hours.He was very busy in his work only nodding with his head occupied in the activities. But my intention was fulfilled as I had noticed the eyes of Archana the moment I told two hours. I enjoyed the tea very slowly with my eyes scanning the soft pillow Archana.Let me describe Archana. She was.
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