This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 11; the eleventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
She folded her umbrella, as rain stopped abruptly, and stood in the queue at bus-stop. A long wait for the bus to carry her to office and throw her into the vortex of daily mundane life. The woman before her, in the queue, was wearing a strong perfume and assaulting her olfactory nerves . She turned her head to inhale fresh air to clear off the remnant of perfume from her nostrils.
The man with golden curls caught her attention and shiver ran down her spine. He was wearing black business suit and had a mischievous smile on his lips; perhaps one of the shenanigans of the business world. Her eyes were glued to him and chased him to extract more information about the characteristics of that man. Finally he caught her eyes and his mischievous smile was replaced by a welcoming smile. Her heart skipped a beat or two. He looked away and started walking on Zebra-crossing. She absorbed the pleasure of watching his broad shoulders, slim hip and swaying curls. The spring in his gait was mesmerizing. Millions of thoughts crossed her mind — some were sacred, some were profane…..some were genuine, some were fake…..some were exhilarating, some were taboos……Her eyes were still exploring the remnants of his masculinity in the direction where he trotted last and disappeared in the multitude of faces. She was amazed as well as shocked at this recently explored hidden self. The bus pulled by and sudden jab in her upper arm from a lady behind brought her to reality. She touched her “Mangalsutra” (sacred thread worn by married Indian women) and tried to dispel all hidden promiscuous thoughts from her mind.
“How could I have room for such thoughts after ten years of marriage ? ” she chided herself mentally. A twinge of guilt swept on her and she started rummaging her purse to pay her bus-fare.