A lonely Bouquet …

The morning blanketed itself in sinister silence. It had drizzled the previous night. Water pooled evenly in the uneven potholes of those seemingly unending roads. The breeze wasn’t welcome. She too remained absent. Neither a twig moved, nor a leaf rustled. The only sound was an alien breathing echoing. It was mine. The breath grew quicker and translated itself to a panting. Moonlight glistened on those palm leaves hanging loose and uninterested. My legs grew tired and found it miserably uneasy to walk. Two haunting lights pierced from an unpredictable distance. Sound of the rummaging engines disturbed the ghostly silence. My energetic hands waved. A screeching halt and I scooped my fright in. The scent of jasmine and lavender smelt around. The talcum powder shower with the garlanded jasmine on those black hairs stole my breath away. A damsel sat with her chin, ear and hair resting in an easy mood, unaware of my presence. A blue headscarf hid the rest of those assets. I stopped being attentive. The rickshaw traveled hastily to the nearest bus stop. She got out with a death like silence, unconcerned, unaware and indifferent. I forgot her. A few frail figures stood, some waiting for the bus, some for the early morning newspaper dispatch and some other idly sipping a cup of the brewing hot tea. The neighbor’s cigarette swirl addicted the morning air momentarily.
Every approaching headlight around the corner expected a bus. Little drops of rain fell soothing the tensed air surrounding me. I breathed easy. A little drop fell on my specs and blurred my vision. A single bell and the bus stopped, with the back door welcoming my arrival. The rest continued waiting. A double bell. Just as the fingers gripped the bar and moved to the vacant seat, a single bell invited the screeching brakes to throw me off the feet. A lady clad in a saree with the creamiest of hues entered from the front door. I watched her in quiet curiosity. The same carelessness took her lazy pace to the neighboring seat. The distance of the aisle was the only separation. Drops of rain continued pelting itself on the glass like little sprays of sand. The wipers danced with the drops and slept back in the rusty slot. The LED’s danced and encircled the Gods behind the drivers cabin. Darkness prevailed outside. The melancholic Hindi memoir enhanced the silence in the mood with the love lorn singer humming at the peak of emotions. Her eyes closed in vacuous clarity. The same indifference outlined in the clear-cut profile. The bulbs lent light on her flourishes.
A small ring adorned her cute little nose in the left nostril. Every breath through her nostril made the gold-plated move up and down. A drooping head fell sideways on her shoulder. She looked around and caught my eyes. A dark red bindi remained lifeless in the cheerless forehead. I sat in custody. The disturbance didn’t quiet disturb my menacing stare. My silent yet serious glances made her uneasy for the first time. She looked away, to the closed windows, lifted the shutter and looked out at the scenes thrown to light by the blinking streetlights. More rings adorned from the top of her ear till the bottom lobes, in various shaped circles. Two in silver, one in steel and yet another in gold. They mingled and danced at every swerve of the bus, sometimes kissing her bare neck in admiration. The spherical pearly locket dangled from the lowermost ring like the cutest fruit of the young mango tree.
Yet another of her stolen look and I was still in silent admiration of those spotless cheeks. She bit her nails out of a docile anxiety, the nails shied away at the drool from the pearly white teeth. I acknowledged her cute fingers speckled with four different rings. The little finger decorated with a simple silver plated circle, ring finger gleamed at the golden embellishment, the middle finger proud of a possessive emerald stone atop and the index finger charmed with a copper flamboyance, while the thumb basked in its nakedness. An untold number of leaf green bangles slipped deep down near her elbow, embroidered in golden hue on either side like guards on duty. She rested her hands on the lap and the bangles lay in idle innocence. Her eyes tried their best to bear my stare, moving to and fro to all sides of the screen. The golden thread of gold streaming down her neck en-route her breasts stopping at her navel found the sudden unrest a disturbance. Perturbed, the bosoms heaved faster and her hands stroked the smaller black beaded chain harder. The amulet stared shamelessly at the cleavage about of give birth to cute little globes. With the smaller necklace bathed in sweat, those diamonds sniffed the droplets of fear. A smaller droplet flowed down the groove to a blissful stay in the warm indoors. I smiled. The fingers on her leg twitched in displeasing expectation. With more than two rings bejeweled in each, the fingers found it difficult to squirm. She shifted her legs and the silver anklets snuggled with a giggling tone.
A sudden whiff of air and the veiled headscarf fell backwards; the vermilion streak drew closer in clarity amidst the pendant and its decorated tail splitting the hair in two. My head turned away, staring at the pictures of the infinite landscapes outside. Gazing at the pleasant sun rising far away in yet another horizon, my journey continued. She left somewhere in the middle, but the addicting fragrance of her jasmine garland, the arresting charm of her lazy gait and the beguiling spell of her ornaments still remain captive in my senses, long after the incomplete journey…