Saturday, August 07, 2004
Was walking down the road the other day, and soon matched steps with the fair damsel in distress walking a few paces ahead. It seemed strange to be doing that, but I chided myself that it's always good to be taking chances in life. A chance earned is better than a chance lost, and I told myself many other silly things as I matched steps behind her. She may have noticed - I think she did, because she looked back sometimes, and I could see her eyebrows arch upwards slightly. Very Sphinx-like... not that I've ever seen the Sphinx.
So, anyhow, let me desribe her to you. She was one of those women you see on the muggy roads of Delhi every now and then. Very good-looking, and yet, somehow manages to beat that generic curse, if you know what I mean. Anybody who has lived in Delhi will, in fact, know what I mean. This place has the best-looking women anywhere in the country - very well turned out, very sexy, very cat-like, very bitchy - straight hair, peaches-and-cream complexion, but o-so very in-the mould.
But, no, she wasn't like that. There was the standard peaches-and-cream and the hair so straight you'd think she stepped out of one of those computer-generated images Sunsilk employs for their ads, and she had these thick black rimmed spectacles atop her nose. Very fine. Very fine walk, very fine sashay, and I couldn't but help admire her butt, as she walked... and I couldn't but help remember that other girl friend of mine who says all men are hopeless, cuz we rarely progress beyond a woman's boobs and butt. But hell, I chided myself again, it's all a chance, right? and it's good to take a chance once in a while, right? I mean - what could it possibly land me in - some gruelling moments in a police station?
Ho hum, been there, done that.
But no, this babe - she didn't mean to take any business to the police station. She was looking back, like I said, looking back sometimes, with just a wave of her sexy hair, and a slight upturn of her winkly nose. She reminded me of Elizabeth Montgomery - you know, the hottie who used to do "Bewitched' on TV eons ago - and I half expected her to wink her nose at me, and turn me into a frog or something. Whatever... I was going through a phase, and I was having all these weird inclinations... a chance, they say.
So, she turns, this babe.. and with the classical hands-on-hip gesture, I can see her tongue dart out and lick her lips... she's interested, I can tell, and I smile too - one of those beguiling ones, with just a hint of teeth, lips creased back, forming just a hint of dimple. I'm hot too, and she knows that, and I open my mouth -
"Do I know you from somewhere?" she asks, and I'm almost blown away by that voice... the exact tone you'd expect a Perry Mason heroine to use, and of course, that reminds me where I know her from... so I reply, sauvely, smoothly, coming up closer, so that there's only a couple of centimetre's between us, "Only from a novel... But see, we've met now."
Tinkle bells - yea, yea, very cliched, but hey, that's how she was, remember - cliched, but not so... Here she was, just out of that novel, devoid of raincoat and sexily tilted hat, but her lips were ruby-red all the same, and behind those dark-rimmed glasses, her eyes were wide and sexual. I was in heat, and I could feel the heat reverberate of her... and she says, o so coyly, "I'm glad... I thought you were a stranger."
But, o babe, I'm not, am I? So take my hand, will you... Cleverly coloured nails, expertly manicured to a neat oval, not so sharp, not so blunt, and I lead her into the bar... something tells me that it's started to rain, but hell, the drops just splatter away from my shoulders... something tells me, it's late, but hell, I can't hear no wolves howling as yet.
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