Moonlight Romance

PRATIKSHA GUHA

Class 10 Section B

The sudden stream of cool air current rushed into the moonlit darkness of the room accompanied by the creaking sound of the door that now stood ajar. The steady flame of the candle flickered with quick graceful curves as the soft air blew over it. Susan’s sweet dilemma was sweetly disturbed with the much-awaited arrival.

Her longing gaze acutely transformed into a rapid thoughtless search, the dusky shadow of her bend lashes in the smooth cavity below her eyes, disappearing to the glorious aureole, that now apparently was sourced from her ecstatic face. Her lips quivered with excitement. She folded her hands and pressed it against her chest to subdue the loud thumping of her heart, her ‘Biological’ heart that behaves in a similar manner whenever it perceived the signal of the arrival of her ‘Philosophical’ heart ---her true heart, her soul, the love of her life—Max.

Her lips curved into a beautiful smile with the touch of her beloved on her shoulders. She turned, she looked up. The man with his hand on her shoulders gleaming happily, his handsome features glowing with awe at the soothing beauty of his girl, a similar that grips him when he is in the vicinity of his love, of her fragrance, her touch, her affectionate eyes bubbling with Love.

“You missed me, Max?” was the childish question.

“Of course I did!” came the laughing reply.

“Lie….. You couldn't miss me when you were battling the Romans?” She asked, shaking her head.

“Of course I was! I was physically battling them and mentally battling out the two opposite emotions, whether I should die for the century or live for you!” She said with pretence of amazement, suppressing a knowing smile.

“So I am!” he said happily. Susan slipped her fingers through his and stood up resting her head against his brave chest. Max touched her bun and unmade it, letting her hair roll down her neck, then shoulder, brushing her back airily and swinging with its unmade ends at her waist. The dark strands engulfed her completely. Max caressed the soft curls and brought his lips close to her ears, whispering eternal words of Love and then the request for dance.

“Dance?” she breathed and fully gave her arms into Max’s strength, his arms, his love. He pulled her close, holding her y the wait. The dance began to the tune of the several realms--- the moonlight, the sea waves, the rain-washed garden around, the unpredictable nocturnal breeze and to the melody of the inner realms, the untouchable realms, of the distant insides, that served to be the magnetism of attraction between the two Lovers, Susan’s floral printed gown seemed to be the paintbrush, brushing the air with the diverse colours of her dance steps. Her hands were tightly clasped in Max’s, her feet raised to lift her posture to meet Max’s bent face. The dance continued as they touched each other lips, rubbed their faces and shut their eyes to the world, completely drinking in the mirth of true Love, everlasting bonding, their bodies cutting the air at perfect angles moving to the silent tune, punctuated by Susan’s laughter following the playful whispers of Max. The dance continued; the dance of the most romantic couple, Susan and Max.

Across the garden, in the servant’s bungalow, two servants sat in the verandah couch watching the spectacle through the open window, with astonishment. Astonishment, not pleasant but fearful. They watched as their mistress dressed in a floral gown, danced away, clinging to the air, to nothingness, laughing aloud to herself and fiddling through her locks.

“This has become a regular task. It is high time we take our step” said the male servant. “No please,” piped in the female, wiping her tears off,”We should take care of her, Master would be disappointed”. She wept looking up at the star –studded firmament. “Please be practical”, came the firm reply. “It has been a year since the death ceremony” he paused. We need to do this, We have no other alternative, I will  take the blame if anything happens to her” he said, and ignoring her wife’s violent he dialed the number of the asylum.

Susan fully gave into Max’s arms, his west windy room, however the dance continued ceaselessly to the silent tune of Love, eternity as Susan and Max kissed Each other fondly never pausing their late night dance, everything and completely drinking in the mirth of their romance, free from the fear that tomorrow might separate her from her love- her eyes, that still dwelled in the past, reflecting love and anticipation, eyes blind to the present, eyes whose real tomorrow was going to reflect the coldness of the living dead.