A delightful glimpse of life. Those little things….
She was one of those walking paradoxes. Wearing long flowing kurtis but smoking Marlboro (in India, that’s a paradox. In the world, that’s just a beautiful woman going about her way). Long wavy tresses with short clipped sentences. Deadpan expressions in the photographs she clicked of herself but beautiful aesthetics in the ones she clicked of her muses, of her subjects, of people and phenomena around her.
Every evening, at the behest of her mother, she dragged her feet to the kitchen, grumbling as her fingers mangled the dough and a side of her cheek clenched with her jawline while she ran the rolling pin over the ball. She could feel the invisible acidic gaze of her mother and her ancestors, bearing down on her shoulders, noticing the amoebic shape that the roti was taking.
It took some months before her lover visited her home and they stood talking…
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The Thought Spout 