She was still beautiful –her face was – but she had adopted a more comfortable outline. Reading partnership deeds had been my true education, a look into the human heart.
I could see her neck bent forward with its slender nape. I could see the faint trace of bones like pearls that ran down her smooth back. I could see myself, my former self.
She was past thirty and resigned to the idea of being single, not that she wouldn’t have made a good wife in every way, but she had only her personality and good nature by that time, the rest, as she herself would say, had turned into a size fourteen.
I had first seen her at a bus stop. She was, more than what we call prettier, fragile and bit of bold too, even in those days, there was a body that spoke, at the time, of much that youth could offer.
One never has the human company one longs for. Something else is always offered.
When she was fifteen she did not know if she was beginning life or throwing it away. We were dating, hugging, and the next thing she knew she was in a unimaginable frenzy of whirlpool, her aching body, stretching neck, open lips and uncontrollable fast heart beats with hot heavy and loud breathing. Rest of the time we were decent, forgiving, warm.
This warmhearted girl with her legs, her fragrance, and perfect little ears that were tuned to me.
It was as simple as a death, but it lasted longer. The price was marked in pencil on the corner of the flyleaf at the top. She turned the pages idly.
What I liked was that you were absolutely new and everything you said and did was. You were incomparable. With you I felt I had everything in life, everything anyone ever dreamed of. I adored you. To put my hand on the small of her naked back was to have all I ever hoped to possess.
“I’ve loved you as much as I’ve ever loved anyone in the world –I’m sounding maudlin, I know.”
…shabab khan’s blog
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