Skip to main content

SS-1, Chapter-3


 The middle aged woman was deep in conversation with the Colonel’s son, a smart young lieutenant himself.
The lady walked around the pillar to get a better look at this stranger, but her effort was to be in vain, for some of her friends barged in between and struck up conversation.
A couple of drinks, a dance or two, and few random conversations later, the lady had quite settled into the flow of the festivities. Despite the strain of the past fortnight, she surprised herself with the amount of enthusiasm she could muster. And so, the gaiety continued… and it would have, had she not noticed the hems of the silver gown, yet again.
This time, the lieutenant had disappeared, but the woman was in conversation with another man, his back to the dance floor. Her face was pale, but the dark brown of her hair and eyes, coupled with the sharp nose, and high cheek bones made it an attractive package. Then there was that hour glass frame, the generous bosom. The long slender fingers brushed his coat’s lapels, before resting on his shoulder. As the pitch began to rise, she swayed gracefully, matching her moves to that of her partner, the lawyer.
‘It’s only a dance’, she thought to herself.
But she was soon heard, telling anyone who struck up conversation with her, that Ms. X powdered face had been conquered by the ‘crow’s feet’, the pearls were a fake and despite it being the first time that the lady had seen her, she assured some of the more naïve guests, that the woman in question had put on a good ten pounds in weight!
A dance rolled into ‘few dances’. The lady now had a throbbing skull, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to pop the aspirin.
It was as the particular number reached a crescendo, that she thought she saw Ms. X slip something into the lawyer’s pocket.  Their eyes, with only each other to gaze at, conveyed a million unspoken words.
The throbbing in the lady’s head was now a frank, incessant pounding.
Soon after the lawyer, was by his lady’s side. And seeing as she was quite unwell, they quietly retreated home.
Hell hath no fury, they say, as a woman scorned!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Lost Sheep Of Modern Medicine

    In the mad rush of today’s outpatient department , even as I noted the duration of his cough and enquired about the tremulousness of his hand, I could , feel the ticking hands of the clock breathing down my neck. The corridor outside my tiny room was overflowing with the sick and the needy, ebbing with tales of pain and sorrow. They sat there pleading to be heard, hoping to be understood, and above all, praying to be cured. I felt overawed by this sheer deluge that was now at my doorstep, people, families from far and wide were here, having battled long queues and prolonged waiting lists running into months just to obtain this appointment. Would the next few minutes they spend with me put a name on their suffering, or would they still be wandering in the dark corridors of ambivalence, oscillating between hope and despair.  The next few minutes, that is all I have to understand this person’s elaborate story spanning a third of his life, a story of his pain in...
2 comments
Read more

Book Review: The Mistress Of the Throne

An insight into the intriguing lives of the Mughal dynasty, especially their women and in particular their daughters... The Mistress of the Throne is a semi fictional memoir of  the unsung princess Jahanara and how she played a defining role in shaping India's history from behind the veils.  A powerful, independent and strong character, born  perhaps about 500 years ahead of time, her remarkable life, her vision and her sacrifices appear to be the less chronicled aspects of what undoubtedly was the Golden Era of the Mughal Rule. Her unparalleled love for her eccentric family is remarkable. As an adolescent she was thrust into the forefront of royal responsibilities soon after her mother , the legendary Mumtaz Mahal breathed her last, yet this Persian beauty wore the title of Shah Jahan 's Empress and that of a foster mother to her siblings with grace and dignity. The melancholy of her own life not withstanding, she was the will behind the Taj Mahal, thus immortalizing...
1 comment
Read more

To World Peace...

To all those whose world was shaken on the 11th of September,2001, a chapter finally comes to an end. I still remember, watching the events unfold... it was just past six/seven o' clock in the evening,and as an 11 year old, I barely understood what was happening. My parents, of course, watched CNN broadcast the attack on one of the towers, and everyone was awestruck. And yet, as we were watching, another aircraft, flew straight into the other twin tower... The world had never ever seen such a thing. Shock and awe it was indeed! And as the twin towers (an emblem of America's financial power), came crumbling down, so did the dreams of hundreds of thousands... in one way or another. For some it was the loss of a near/ dear one,for others it was the loss of a dream, but for all it would come to mark the end of a lot of freedom, peace!The start of a brand new era marred by claustrophobic security and surveillance, mis -trust, unrest, paranoia ... and of new age terrorism. I...
2 comments
Read more