For long they have hidden their passion. But not anymore. Tonight, they will dance, consumed in a torrid desire. The moon, regal in his full form, seduced her with his raw power, wrapping her in his silvery shine. The rain, sensuous in her curves, taunted him with her soft touch, drenching him in her icy heat. The night simmered and sizzled, as they cast a spell, captivated in their steamy tango while the world slept blissfully unaware.
To all those dreams that lay in wait, many a time has gone by blurring you out and many a day has dawned illuminating you sharp. But no matter what, I can always feel you rushing through my blood, I can always sense you pulsing in my heart, a constant throb, an ever-present beat. Like a horse galloping or a snail crawling, each day has me, inch closer and closer to you still.
How can a girl settle for less when the first ever book she read introduced her to a hero like Mr. Darcy!
Though a fictional character, how can the heart dare not hope that such a person cannot not exist!
All his arrogance, his pride, his weaknesses make him all the more real.
All the great many imperfections of his, designed to vex a woman, becomes his very perfections.
From the then-silly-innocent heart to the now-battered-somewhat-mature heart, the hope remains steady and strong.
What with the world full of Mr. Collinses and Mr. Wickhams, somewhere a Mr. Darcy must be out there too!
Ruined for life…in love…romance…marriage!
She acted breezy and everyone believed that she was immune to all the usual hurts and disappointments. He knew she was not. He wanted to hug her tight and tell her to let go of that control for once. But that would just get him a punch on the face, not a hug.
A thick blanket of mist hovered just above the field and she could see their coils shoot up, snake around the streetlights, transforming the landscape into a yellow haze. An eerie feeling lingered on, as she leaned against the car and rested her head on the hood. She could see the moon through the branches of the tree overhead. It was full tonight, a pearly orb, shining bright against the silver sky. And she remembered. She remembered many such evenings spent there with her best friend.
The rain hummed a lullaby and the lightning waltzed with the dark night as the thunder drummed a beat. Dawn was yet to break when she woke up from a fitful sleep. The rage outside mirrored the rage inside her heart. She embraced the fierce storm roaring about as a lost soul finding solace in the arms of it’s soulmate.
It is that time of the year again. The sound of dhak, chant of mantras, fragrance of the agarbattis and the light from innumerable diyas weave an intoxicating aura. Kohl-eyed, draped in fiery red with the spear in motion, the Goddess epitomises the ultimate power – the power of giving life, the power of embracing the universe, the power of being a woman.
Some nights, with the wind whispering and the moon shining, she just lies still, letting her mind go wild, aching at the chaos inside. And in those nights, solitude becomes unbearable.
The amber tinted clouds and the lilac hued sky painted a tale of the coral sun and ivory moon, of the rising night and setting noon. She stood watching the clouds, splashed vivid with colors and tried to conjure up the many shapes they made. It brought back a kaleidoscope of memories since it has always been one of her cherished pastimes.