‘Come, let’s get a sari for you,’ he got down.

‘Why now,’ she said hesitantly. ‘We can get it some other time.’

‘Isn’t time the essence of life,’ he pulled her out of the auto. ‘Why waste any more of it now?’

As both of them were scanning the sari in those rows of shelves, she picked up a brown Venkatagiri and began feeling it on herself.

‘Won’t it go well with me?’ she said at length.

‘And this as well,’ he handed her a grey Pochampally.

‘I’ll have that then,’ she dropped the Venkatagiri.

‘You have them both,’ he said.

‘If only you promise,’ she said to him in undertone, ‘that you would have both Sandhya and me together.’

‘Would I love that any less?’ he murmured in her ears.

After she had selected matching blouse pieces for those saris they came out of the shop.

‘How else I can thank you twice,’ she said coyly, as they walked towards the auto-rickshaw, kept in wait for them, ‘than by wearing them both together?’

‘To tell you the truth, you look the best with none on you,’ he whispered into her joyous ears.

‘And to reveal my mind,’ she said turning coy, ‘you’re alike handsome, within and without your jeans.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ he said, as she got into the auto declared, ‘I’ll join you in a minute.’

‘What’s that?’ she asked him when he returned with a packet.

‘It’s personal,’ he winked at her.

‘Is that so?’ she said reaching for it.

‘I feel so,’ he smiled holding it back.

‘Then let’s go home,’ she said feigning anger, ‘to lock it in your suitcase.’

‘Anything to do with you,’ he said, cajoling her, ‘is personal to me, isn’t it?’

‘Well?’ she said looking the other way.

‘Some colorful thirty-sixes for you,’ he crooned into her ears.

‘Good memory,’ she smiled, thrilled to the core.

‘Haunting one,’ he whispered, ‘of our spheres of love.’

While she rested her head on his shoulder, as though made heady by his love, the auto took them to Deepak Theatre. But by the time they got into cinema hall, the matinee was already under way. And no sooner they settled in their seats than their legs sought partners for footsie. By the interval time however, while their legs got weary, their souls craved for fusion. So, as their looks conveyed longing, their legs signaled exit.

‘Pick up a few of those,’ she whispered as they came out of the theatre.

‘How many?’ he said heartily.

‘As many as you could wet,’ she said coyly.




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