Sunday, December 3, 2017

Belitung

The afternoon had suddenly turned dark. The waves were strong enough to engulf the whole village. Far south, thunders were visible, as if they wanted to break the banks, as if there was no tomorrow. Villagers seemed unperturbed by the turn of events. Storms were friends to them. They kept sipping their teas and singing hymns

She was scared, she felt the wrath of the thunder gods. Fragile and almost weightless. She was sexy when she was weightless. 

"We should head back to our guest house. The waves are getting higher and crazier. And the wind feels like swooping me off my feet"

During most such instances, it was me who would be shying away from getting up close and personal with nature, while she would always be the fluttering butterfly, ready to melt into the realms. However today was different, there was certain defiance within me. Somehow I wanted to be part of this storm with her, within her. Somehow I was not bothered about getting soaked, or my phone getting wet, at the cost of my soul remaining dry

"Its alright, we can enjoy the rain today, lets ride around on the bike for some time before heading back. The rain is a sweet smell of promise of good times. Good times do not stay forever"

And then we got drenched till our bones. We got swooped off our feet, we rode into the storm and came out clean and dry.

We laughed and cried with the songs of the rain, our laughter melting slowly into the sound of the rain...

What's this all about?

There is a disillusionment that is always lurking beneath the surface, once we start digging. On the surface life is a pretty little ride w...