Her friend puts silver bhutis on an aubergine chiffon, prints the pallu with pink paisleys and gives it to her, telling her to send a picture when she wears it. This is the friend of shared first intimacies...about first periods, first dates, first nights and first pregnancies.
She drapes the sari one Saturday morning to a wedding where they are ushers, seating and smiling at guests. He in blue buttoned sleeves and she in aubergine chiffon slung tight, large silver jhumkas and gem studded kitten heels.
The lunch is eaten, the oxytocin spreads, and they are alone.
He struggles laboriously to unfasten unfamiliar choli hooks and pins, unwraps all and then lays the pure chiffon back on her in a single layer to look and touch as if through a chiffon glass.
Chiffon Burn Day with towels layered under her to catch menstrual blood.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Eva Green.....
I'm watching her, amazed one can lie still when one's bare skin is being breathed upon from toe to head, lingeringly.
The Bond girl, in Bertolucci's The Dreamers, is calm with her legs together and as straight as an arrow. Beginning from her toes, Mathew tells her about the first time he saw her. He goes on to ask about her relationship with her brother as he feathers his way upward while she lies immovable yet taut. The camera captures every movement of air as he speaks. At the moment he is by her mound, his words cause her hair to flutter slightly, and he doesn't stop except to intimately insert a finger a moment and then remove it. The conversation continues.
Lessons in self control! Which I sadly lack at this moment.
Well, actually not sadly...madly.
The Bond girl, in Bertolucci's The Dreamers, is calm with her legs together and as straight as an arrow. Beginning from her toes, Mathew tells her about the first time he saw her. He goes on to ask about her relationship with her brother as he feathers his way upward while she lies immovable yet taut. The camera captures every movement of air as he speaks. At the moment he is by her mound, his words cause her hair to flutter slightly, and he doesn't stop except to intimately insert a finger a moment and then remove it. The conversation continues.
Lessons in self control! Which I sadly lack at this moment.
Well, actually not sadly...madly.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
OWS
It is more Occupy Wall Street chic than Mumbai footpath. The roads are lonely, and the night air is pleasant.
She half awoke from her dream and felt an arm comfortably wrapped around her breasts. She gently felt his fingers, taking them to her lips, to see if they were familiar. They were not any she knew, yet they were not offensive. They held her confidently, and she slept on, like she slept in her bed at home, wrapped in his and her nudity.
She woke up and he was gone, but there were large vessels cooking on outdoor fires. Whoever she was with, they ate well and had beautiful quilts which she could wrap herself with.
Barefoot she walked to the fire, but saw noone.
She had never felt so warm and safe as she was now, homeless on an unknown footpath, in a dream.
She half awoke from her dream and felt an arm comfortably wrapped around her breasts. She gently felt his fingers, taking them to her lips, to see if they were familiar. They were not any she knew, yet they were not offensive. They held her confidently, and she slept on, like she slept in her bed at home, wrapped in his and her nudity.
She woke up and he was gone, but there were large vessels cooking on outdoor fires. Whoever she was with, they ate well and had beautiful quilts which she could wrap herself with.
Barefoot she walked to the fire, but saw noone.
She had never felt so warm and safe as she was now, homeless on an unknown footpath, in a dream.
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