Lovely Madam likes to swim, in
the sea. The last time she did that, she was fourteen years old. Now she is about
to get married next to a little pond and is loving it just as much. You see,
after all finding happiness is her passion.
She is a teacher in a private university.
An assistant professor, as she likes to put it. She has recently joined and has
undoubtedly brought a new life to an otherwise stifling place. All men love her
and all women envy her. Lovely Madam loves some men and envies most women,
married women especially, as she thinks that they have what she does not, love
that is. Unknown to her, many women envy her for the same reasons, thinking that she
has what they do not, attention that is, and lovers. Lovely Madam certainly has
a plenty of the former. She does not talk about the lovers.
Strange world, Lovely Madam still
does not think it is. She wants it all, the world, a piece of the moon and a few of
the stars. But who is going to give it to her? Certainly not the writer, a poor
jobless man that he is. But Lovely Madam likes men with broken hearts as she
feels that she can stich those pieces back together, a la Fevicol Se, makes her feel all motherly and shit, you see.
But she is no Kareena. And he is no Ghalib.
She likes the shrieking quiet of
the jungles, the wilderness of human soul, the lovers they could be, the madness of
her hopes, the clear sky and a long stretch of an empty road. She wants to live
in a palace, her palace, away from the profound emptiness she feels all the
time, away, far away, where there is just them and hoards of colorful exotic birds
chirping over a large beautiful fountain of scented waters and fireflies
lighting up the pathways to the majestic bed of flowers…
There is one such palace, apparently
haunted, which strangely wonders whether it is any real at all. The writer does not like that,
but we will talk about it later.
__