Crossing the Mirage:Passing Through Youth

“Strange are the ways of love!” said Chandra, thinking about the turn of events with Nithya. “What made you fall in love later?”

“As my job demanded a lot of telephonic talk, she was always on the line with me,” said Sathya. “Well, she has a marvelous voice and a cultured accent but I was not amused as she began transferring all and sundry calls to me. Once I lost my cool but apologized readily, and from then on, I was courteous to her and she started giving priority to my calls. Soon enough, we were on friendly terms and I began to see the positives of her persona.”

“As we established rapport, she exhibited a unique sense of humor that's intellectually stimulating,” said Sathya as he drank the dregs and stuffed the Four Square butt. “When I realized she has a bewitching smile and a seductive look besides, I was drawn to her. And also seeing her competent and skillful she was at work, I was really amazed. So, I began to seek her company at every turn and she too started flirting with me. What sense of humour she has and what a conversationalist she is! I don't expect seeing someone bettering her at both. By allowing me to indulge, she had incited my passion for her. As I was groping in the dark for an opening, she invited me to come home for tea.”

“Don't I know what passion for possession does to man!” interjected Chandra, recapping those tortuous times of his love. “I had gone through it myself.”

“Well, it was the rendezvous that changed my life, and brought me to where I'm now,” continued Sathya reaching for the Black Knight. “Dressed in a dark blue Cali-cloth sari, she was waiting for me in the first-floor balcony. Oh, how gorgeous she looked and how obligingly I lost myself to her. But directed by her, as I went up the staircase on the side, she came down half way, welcoming me warmly. After my introduction to her parents in glowing terms, as we found ourselves alone in the drawing room, I ogled her charms and she behaved endearingly. When I wanted to know more of her, she just fluttered her eyes but as I pleaded with her to take me into confidence, she was in tears. Seeing my concern for her written all over my face, she composed herself soon. Apologizing for spoiling the party, she blamed her father for her plight. Maybe, as I couldn't solace her with my hands, my enamored eyes took it upon themselves to embalm her with empathy. When she said she finds my company comforting, I felt the seeds of love sprouting in my bosom. After extracting a promise from her that she would tell me all, I bade her good night. When I stepped out into that by-road in the Lake Market, I felt she was as evocative as Cal itself.”