I picked up my mocha latte and hurried towards office. No car today. The chill had set in quite bad and it was very foggy for a happy morning. The smoke from my coffee seemed to whirl up and disappear in the chilly fog settled on the grass and amidst the trees. Winter—beautiful yet so severe; mysteriously romantic yet so cruel…

I decided to hurry past the church since that seems like a shorter route and took my turn into the avenue. Many a great old statues lined this lane, set at intervals between the sylvan paradise. The white of the fog, the black of the uncertain branches around, brown of the rotting foliage and the grey of the pavement I was walking on seemed to build a kind of nostalgia where in my youthful sleepy mind, I’d venture into fairylands as a child…

I walked past a particular piece and stopped to look back. It wasn’t here before…I thought. This is a new one… Just then the fog near the face of the statue cleared a little… To my muse, I found myself moving towards it to take a better look. It was a male, perfectly chiseled to appear handsome and the face—I had so far known only Gods to look this nice. I stood before it, visibly minimized to a child awing at a wonderful firework. The muscles glistened from the mist and the mellowed sunlight and I took the pleasure of running my fingers on the hands, noticing the veins and the cambers of skin on its fingers.

I looked deeper into the face. I admit it was one of the best faces I had ever seen till date. The brows seemed slightly knitted, in apprehension. The beautiful hazel eyes cast a gentle spell as I stood mesmerized by the precision. I even noticed the long, faultlessly sculpted eyelashes on the rims… The lips didn’t smile but they didn’t look stern either. They looked as if they’d smile if I smiled! I intently fed on the craftsmanship—how much more ideal can a human figure be? The curves of the lips were set in with each other with the accuracy I had not noticed in a long time… The neck and the shoulders that held a head so fair were wet from the mist and water dripped down the form in a silent obedience. I noticed the apple in the throat, I noticed the stubbornness in the chin, I noticed not just the statue, but him

The whole thing seemed to me so very wonderful that I didn’t even notice when the smoke from my hot latte has stopped teasing the fog!

A foggy road... PC -
A foggy road…
PC –

Copyright (c) 2014 Amrita Kar Roy. All Rights Reserved.


5 thoughts on “Bewitching…

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