Burram Zohey

Burram Zohey was your ordinary killer, he took money, he asked for a pic, name and address and thats it, didn't bother you much more, infact you would prefer that you never saw him again, he didn't like to do repeat jobs. There was one thing different about him though, he planned his hits in such a way that they seemed like natural or accidental deaths and secondly he had never been arrested, infact nobody could ever recollect having known what he looked like. All that people could recollect was that he had a deep throated voice.

Zarina stepped out of her car, the valet holding the door open for her. A Prada cocktail dress that sat well on her sylvette figure. She had met Johnny Precada five days ago at the spa at the hotel they were putting up at. He was a budding entreprenuer and was all set to change the rules of the game in the telecom industry with the new tchnology that he and his team had invented. She was a risk consultant. She was taken in with his down to earth personality and he with the good insights this pretty lady had given to him as he stepped from being a lab boy to an entrepreneur. Johnny had sent her a handwritten invitation to his what you could call a launch party.

He noticed her entering into the main ball room, his eyes followed her even as he was engrossed in talks with the Secretary of defence, and other business magnates. He managed to excuse himself after ten minutes and stole his way to her. Her eyes met his, she broke away from the group she was talking with as he approached her.

"Evening, nice to see you here, you're looking fabulous."
"Hmmm, who would've known that a lab boy could look so stunning either" she said with her naughty smile.
"Care for a dance?"
"With such a gentleman, how could I refuse"

They danced to the old jazz tunes and they connected. After the third dance he suggested they take a break and she suggested that a little bit of food could do them good. They headed to the bouffet table, he held the plate, she piled on the stuff. Cheese pear canapes, roasted sweet potatoes, grilled bacon and some Fugu.

"You might want to be careful with that, it is not known to be very kind to people" He said as she put the Fugu on their plate.
"Don't worry i'm sure we can handle it, remember I only gave you the idea to put it on the menu, brings some life to the offerings" she quipped

They dug in on the food as they talked. He told her about the small town he lived in by the banks of the Mississipi river as a kid and she told him how she grew up on Alftred Hitchcock movies. She ate most of the bacon letting him greedily dig into the Fugu as they both discussed the good times they had as kids at the Disney land when they had gone there.

After dinner, they had some coffee and then she excused herself. She had to catch a flight out to London that night to meet with a client there.

"It was nice spending the evening with you, you are a charming gentleman"
"And you outdo me by leaps and bounds in that department" he complimented back.

She took a cab to the airport and took her flight to Londong. As she landed at Heathrow the lobby televisions were just breaking in news of the tragic death Johnny Precada. It seems he had asphyxiated after going heavy on the deadly Fugu dish. "It is said that this is probably one of the most treacherous of most dishes, and every year many people die not knowing how strong the poison can be. The poison paralyzes the muscles while the victim stays fully conscious, and eventually dies from asphyxiation. Mr. Precada had just launched his first entreprenuerial venture after the invention of his new wireless technology which was all set to change the way the telecom industry worked. With Mr. Precada having tragically passed away the world is already wondering what will happen to his new venture, speculations are rife thatAircom Corp will be looking at buying the firm out."

Zarina looked at the tv and smiled, Burram Zohey had delivered again.

what men want

They say that we women are one of the most intangible things, that to understand us is the impossible even for god what say about man. I really don't know about that, i think it is very easy to understand me or what i want, for what i want is one simple thing, i want Debyajeet.
Let me take you back about three months when debyajeet joined our office. Our is a entertainment production house, what that means is that all those silly serials that people see on tv, we make them. debyajeet had joined in as assistant creative director. I am an aspiring movie actress, but instead of desperately vying my luck in bollywood i first tried the easier option of getting into serials. A pretty face, a really hot body touched up wid a smooth voice and loads of attitude get you to a lot of places, serials is one of them.

Debya has no great looks or a hot body, that ways he is just ok, he is average and lanky, infact i so wish that he atleast had cute butts but no looks wise he was just about average though he has mischevious eyes, i think of his body that is about all that is really good, his eyes. But even when all the other actresses were busy crooning with the hunks, some of whom who could barely act, all i could do was gush over debya. I can't really put a finger to it but i guess in a world where everybody is a hunk and looks like hrithik roshan you start to value stuff deeper than that, that was debya for me. During the breaks While the other actors were playing the fool or hitting on us co-stars there he was sipping his coffee or puffing on his cigar and reading satyajit ray or this or that. After work he would stay back and play chess with the camera men, they would also include the other crew, people the other actors and all never hung about with. It was not like he isn't crazy like the other guys, u shud see when they play quake or nfs on their laptops, the taunts he gives, though probably one of the wittiest i've heard. Even the way he goes about the work, his energy and enthusiasm are like contagious, though sometimes he gets angry like anything but most of the times he's even patient with the dumbest of us, and its not like he's being patient but more like he understands that everybody can't see his vision in one go, he takes time and tries different ways of bringing home the detail, the point.

So that is me, a hot actress woefully infatuated wid my assistant creative producer. Now the only problem is that anybody else if they had the slightest inkling that i liked them would have gone to the temple and thanked their stars, but debya is like cold, as in he's really not interested in me. And its not like he's gay or anything, in our industry you get to know who is what, he had a girlfriend earlier, Rashi, a junior producer or something, she went abroad for studying movie making further never to return. And just in case you are thinking so here is a pretty girl after an intellectual guy and he doesn't like her so she must be really dumb. But the whole thing is i'm not, i was a topper at school, am well read, know a lot about world affairs and yet for the past three months all i have been getting is the cold shoulder and i am at my wits end to understand why, why o why? what is it that he wants.

About a month back it struck me, to u know try and find out the real person, see what life he lives and everything and i have become almost an amateur detective by now. He lives with a flatmate in friends colony, drives a black corsa sail, never goes to a temple or any religious place, every saturday he hits the bar in taj mansingh and flirts royally there with the waitresses, but i guess it all in good fun, seems the people there are his friends and all, cause he never got slapped by any waitress there even with but pinching and all and neither did he bring any home, ever. He buys books from crossword and also rents a few out from a library close by.

Heck i even managed to sneak into his place once when he wasn't there when the maid came pretending to be there to meet him. He maintains a mixture of tidiness and clumsiness. the room is clean and so is the table but the bed is like one big clutterhouse. He has a poster of an Aston Martin hung over his bead and one of bob dylan on the side wall. He reads a whole gamut of books including porn, some pretty kinky also, heck he even likes archaeology.

On one sunday he went to a home for the destitute kids, looked like he was sponsoring a kid, he did talk to him but i think he looked awkward, he hugged him and all, gave him gifts he had brought but never got really pally with him and the kid looked so like i want a friend, somebody who i can love and be family with; but i guess debya was the typical guy in his mid twenties not sure what to do with a kid.

But when he's so normal then what is it that he wants, why can't he accept me, what is so wrong with me.

Oh damn the lights have gone now, this happens so often in delhi i tell u its frustrating. Rat a tat tat, looks like somebody found this the perfect time to pay a visit.

"Wait am coming, hold on to your horses for a sec will please"

I manage to light a candle and get to the door, its debya, i'm not sure whether he's seeing a shocked faced, or a pleasantly surprised face or what, all i know is that i don't know what to say or do now.

He brings up a small bunch of roses, i grab them and also my senses "Hey, hi this is surprising, come in come in...the bloody electricity also had to go now"

He comes in in the dark "be careful follow my candlelight" ," here come have a seat" He ploughs down on the sofa "sorry for dropping in without a call, was passing by thought would pay a visit"

For three months i have been wanting him to pay a visit and this is how he comes, when there's no light, i haven't even waxed, damn don't even know if there is anything in the fridge to offer him. He cuts short my thoughts

"So what did you find out?"

"Find out, find out what?" for a moment i can't even connect to the question and then i realise what he's saying

"About me, for the past one month you have been following me more strongly than my shadow, what did you find out?"

"That you are like any other guy, same habits, same everything, Oh debya the whole unit knows i have a thing for you, even you can't be oblivious to that, then what is it that you don't like in me, am i not beautiful, am i not good to have a conversation with, what is it in me that you don't like?"

Even in the dark with just the glow of candlelight i could make out his face change expressions, it became even more serene than before. "I have always had this dream about setting up a school, finally after 5 years of saving and planning i have bought land in himachal, a nice little place in the hills. I will be quitting the job, Raunak will be taking over from next month; i move lock stock and barrel to Himachal by month end."

"Rashi couldn't understand why i would want to leave all of this to go there to set up a school, but thats just me, thats what i always wanted to do."

"You are beautiful and on top of that smart and intelligent, you have a promising career ahead, not as a tv star but in bollywood, the chopra banner is already showing a lot of interest in you, so now you know why i couldn't warm up to you, i couldn't deal with..."

That is as far as he got with his sentence for the sound of my slap on his cheeks resonated through the house..... and then i kissed him, "next time it would be less painful if u just asked you dumbo"...and then i got back to kissing him...and he drew me closer to him, tight in his grasp like i had always dreamt he would...

Yateem

Yateem was a special kid, ever since he had come to work in the same restaurant as him, the elderly Rakesh had taken a liking to the young fella. He had appeared one day out of nowhere, hungry, in tattered condition. He had just stood there outside gaping at the people chewing on there food, talking, enjoying, bitching everything, totally oblivious to his existence. Rahman bhai the aged propreitor of Rahman Eatery had from his high seat on the cash counter seen the young lad, an eyesore standing in front of his restaurant, but it must have been his lucky day that the old gentleman saw more than just a hungry boy, he also saw the fire in his belly reflected in his eye, a pride which did not let his hands rise to beg, he just stood there gaping at the food as if trying to fill his hunger from there itself.
Rahman beckoned Rakesh the supervisor and told him to see if he could find some work for the lad in the kitchen.
"Do you want food" he asked the boy
Surprisingly the kid moved his head for a no.
Rakesh understood "it's ok, you can work for it, take this knife and start chopping the onions" Ankit you show him how.
Ankit an older lad of 16 took him through the backdoor, got him washed up, gave him an apron and showed him how to cut onions into thin slices for the salad and fine choppings for the cooking."Like this, thin and be careful don't cut your, blood comes out, it hurts like hell and you'll probably get scared at its sight."
From the moment he got down to slicing his first onion he seemed a natural at it. The young lad got down to what he was told to and chopped and chopped, it seemed that the hunger in him instead of sapping him of energy gave him the kick to cut more and more. After finishing off a whole batch of onions Amit a younger lad of 8 handed him a plateful of rice and curry, the lad looked at Amit and then at Rakesh who with a waved his hand "yes yes have it, and be fast, there's more work to be done"
After a whole lot of peeling and chopping the day finally ended. When all the utensils had been washed and the windings up done they all sat down for a cup of tea; "So young lad where are you from?" Rakesh asked
The young kid didn't say anything but looked down nervously. "Tell me your name, which jhuggi u come from, what does your father do?"
"I, I, I have no father..."
"Arrey yeh to yateem hai" cried out Ankit
Rakesh realised there was something that troubled this kid, he had seen many cases before, he didn't want to push the kid any further. "Fine then you can stay with us" Meenu the little girl who used to wash the plates hugged him "yateem bhaiya" , not knowing in her innocence what she had said and with that the christening of the young lad took place.
That had been an year ago since then Yateem had grown, adapting well to his environs. The mornings began with all the kids running to the nearby municipal garden to bathe under the hose while the gardner was away tending to other parts of the garden, having a quick breakfast of poha or something with tea and then starting all the preparations, laying out tables, preparing curries and all, chopping veggies, chicken, mutton. If he had been good at chopping veggies there was nobody better than him when it came to cutting meat. He sliced the meat into chops at the right places and angles even Rahman kaka was impressed by his skill.
But it was not just this that endeared him to the others at the eatery. He was a lively fellow, no game of teen patti was complete without all witty comments on the cards and luck. He could drink two whole bottles of their local brew and yet throw darts with deadly accuracy. He was also kind infact the only thing that pissed of Rahman kaka was that he did not turn away any beggar coming for food, infact it really got him heated up and almost got Yateem a whacking but for the intervention of Rakesh, whose counsel Rahman heeded, who explained to him that on Yateem's instructions meenu would salvage leftovers from the plates before washing and it is this food that Yateem distributed. This not only shocked Rahman but also pleasantly surprised him.
This was Yateem an year into their lives, they didn't know where he came from and he didn't offer any explanations all they knew was that he was an honest, hardworking chap, with wit on his tongue and kindness in his heart. Rakesh really didn't know why but his eyes got moist thinking of this one year that had gone. Yateem was like a son he wished he had. He dried his moist eyes and started reading the newspaper and sipping the chai. Newspaper to him was as entertaining as the movies, you could find enough thrillers, melodramas in the stories, there was also talk abtout sex and astrology and all that at much cheaper price than that of a movie ticket. There was something about two young co-stars of a serial who had finally declared they were a couple long after all the world had said that they were a couple. Then there was this murder case in Delhi, the police it seems had while trying to solve another case stumbled across the remains of another chap. He had been chopped up into nice little pieces, stuffed into a gunny bag and burried in the jungle. The police had traced him to a jhuggi in delhi from the plastic covered ration card. He was a well to do butcher and used to lend out money to the other jhuggi dwellers. He used to stay alone with his young son of 10 years. It seems he had been sexually exploiting a woman who couldn't return the money she borrowed. Finally it seems she had comitted suicide. Two days later the butcher had gone missing, his son had come home that day but then he had gone missing too. That is where the trail got cold, the butcher's remains had been found but the son could not be traced. Suddenly it seemed for Rakesh that the air had gone cold and his breathing shallow. He folded his newspaper finished his last sip of tea and called out "Get moving you lazy buggers, we haven't got all day, look at the tablecloth why is it not aligned right, who washed these glasses the sewer looks cleaner than them" and as another day at Rahman Eatery had begun.

living with a loser

for all my life it seems that the only constant friend that god
bestowed on me had to be one who is a dumbass loser. I have shifted
stations (dad was in the army), changed schools, changed circle of
friends but he, he was my best friend, he would always tag along.
Now the thing about losers, you know people mis construe losers, the
ones who life hasn't really given anything, it is not fair to call
them losers, no that is the category of unfortunates, losers on the
other hand are those who have lost a full hand in poker just because
they didn't know how to call their hand, now those my dear friends
are losers.
So yes i was telling you about this buddy of mine. Now this chap, was
well not a very healthy kid, thin stickly but with loads of attitude.
I guess being thin and stickly makes you that way, You start feeling
afraid of everyone around, you feel you can't stick it up to others,
and then somewhere you forget that hey nobody is attacking you, its
just the fear of the possibility that makes you a sworn enemy of the
world. So you fight with what the world has given you, you shield
yourself with your brains and fast tongue.
Yet your shield is not strong enough, for at home their is a mother
who loves you, a pop who talks to you about life and logic, and you
have buddies who don't seem to care about your brains or your sharp
tongue.
But my dears, fear is one enemy who doesn't relent, he scares you
when you are on the stage, he scares you when you are off it. It
jolts you out of your comfort zone, when you are facing the cricket
ball you are afraid, you are afraid because the ball can hit you in
the face, you are afraid because you can't play well, it counts not
that your brains are well and strong, it counts that you can't sing.
And those worries make life less joyful for you, for what is a man
who is always afraid but a prisoner in his own prison.
To the world you seem smart and brainy, sometimes even witty, but you
guard from them your deepest fears and so they also see you as
reserved, awkward and snobbish.
And thus was my buddy, he wasn't very great looking but not very
unholy either, lanky built, smart but awkward and uncomfortable with
himself.
If one could put in the greatest tests that a man has to face in his
life, one would be to prove himself professionally, another to prove
himself socially, third to be a good father, fourth to find his own
self, but probably the most important of them all to find a woman for
himself, for in that one test all other five tests get incorporated.
But how can you win when you believe it to be morally impossible,
when you yourself believe to be a loser, the spirit dies and so does
the fight. You muse on life, people around you, you ponder on all the
rights and wrongs, but you find not a way to go forward for the hand
holding you back is your own.
And thus as you test your own heart and mind, what can you find but
loss, for the battle was lost years back, you just never admitted
defeat. So you cloak your defeat and keep waging the war, hoping
against hope to desperately win.
But my dear chap how long can you face away from the truth, one day
the wounds get deep enough and you feel tired, one day you lay down
your sword and say i give up.
And so one day this buddy of mine poured out his deepest secrets to
me.
'I give up old pal, it was never meant to be, i have the brains but
will never top, i am smart but will never be cool, yes i am witty and
fun but deep and intense too, yes i am desperate for a girl, i feel
lonely too, but i have nothing to offer just a heart like everyone
else...just like everyone else.'
...he smiles now more often...i think he's finally learning to lose
his fear...i think something worked like magic for him...think it was
these words...'but i have nothing to offer just a heart like everyone
else...just like everyone else.'

God i met her

i met her of all the places at a mandir, the famous siddhivinayak temple of mumbai, where the whole spectrum of our society from the rickshawallas to the actors and actoresses (lady actors in propah english) came to either wish for something or thank the holy lord for fullfulling their wishes. I hadn't noticed her in the milling crowd, but she had been noticing me for quite some time it seemed, and it was not usually in that order when it concerned a beautiful lady, but not to be flattered her interest in me was not something from my looks.
"You are out of place here aren't you."
I was standing at the stairs of the temple on my way to have a meeting with the holy one himself but i guess i was moving too slowly and uneasily against the general speed of the mileu in the temple crossroads for it to be evident to any observent onlooker that i didn't belong there, that i was lost.
"yeah i haven't done this in a long time. Have been living away from home for quite a few yrs, well today i guess i thought we could try this too."
"Come let me guide you then" She held out her right hand to me, her left still clutching her thaali, she had been on her way out but was willing to show me the way in. It would have taken a very strong force for anybody to have rejected that outstretched hand, i held out my left hand to hers and she led me in. Through the line, to the darshan, the prayers, the parsad and then out.
"So what made you come here today, what were you wishing for?"
"Actually nothing, i just wanted to relive the old memories of going to temple with folks. They live in delhi, i've been moving around for quite some time, doing it alone felt quite odd, today i thought what the heck,lets try it out. I guess plus then if i hadn't come here today you wouldn't have gotten a chance to be a good samaritan."
"Yeah right, you did look like a lamb on his way to slaughter though." she said with a charming smile.
"That bad, huh." i said with a chuckle.
She was wearing a pearly white saree with a one inch gold woven border, she was about 5'6",wheatish but more on the fair side, slim tender built but in proportion, and angelic face that shone with radiance, long straight tresses that reached just below the shoulder. I tell you now what she looked like because it would have been cruel to not tell you it, as it is you missed out on meeting her.
"So what do you otherwise?"
"Otherwise as in when i'm not getting lost in temples, well i'm supposed to be a kind of a young genius, i help brands re-establish themselves, a brand consultant is the term they use. Basically they pay me good amount of money to come in and with the dramaticisms of an oracle tell people where their brands are headed and what to do to help them. I'm only 23 and work less than one week in a day but make enough to be envied by many VPs. What do you do?"
"So presuming that you have done your one day stint for this week then it would be fair to assume that you have nothing to do for the rest of the week. So then what say wanna go to the beach, its almost sunset time?"
I had nothing to do, she was right on that account, and there is an unsaid rule that says you neve refuse a lady, so well we did hit the chowpatty on marine drive. The sun was almost setting, we headed out to the water's edge, more like she lead me there, i had to pace up to match her stride. She wasn't keen on chatting much at that time, her eyes were holding the setting sun in her gaze. She held on to my arm, a very firm grip, it was like she was talking to the sun.
With the last goodbyes to us mortals the sun took a dip into the ocean and the world turned dark. That one moment is so intense i doubt it fails to move anybody.
"Wanna have some thing i'm famished" Well it was my day to nod my head and thats what i did, i presumed she would talk when she felt like, so we grabbed a taxi and she told him to head for leopolds in colaba, nice joint especially made famous in the book shantaram. I guess it was the chilly chicken that opened her up, she hardly stopped yapping once she dove in.
"I like bombay, its a nice city, it a rich mix of abundance and poverty...and in both you can find such beauty, such love. Yesterday i went to this orphanage with little kids, played with them all afternoon. It's so easy connecting with kids"
She talked about nice stuff from all over the world, one kid she had met in manhattan's down town area, the graffiti he made, how she couldn't stop admiring it, she bought him a skateboard. Then there was this blind girl in england she used to sing old janis joplin songs. She went on and on about things here and there, i think wherever she went all she could notice were the nice things, she didn't mention the crime rate in new york or the cindering racism in europe, not the garbaged, corrupted state of india.
"You don't see the bad things around you do you?"
"Tell me do i look beautiful?"
In the list of direct questions i think this one would be right on the top of the list.
"Well i guess even a blind man would have to reply in the affirmative."
"You are nice with your words, but i don't have an exceptionally good face, yet i am beautiful, more like a morning flower. Guess my age."
"I would want to guess 23, that's more like my own, but u sound too mature, too confident to be 23, say 25. Lookswise though ask anybody u hardly look like you've crossed your teens, take you out of the saree, put you in a small top and jeans and one could send you to college."
"I 28 and in 3 days will touch 29"
She let the shock sink in before continuing, this time with a smile. "And if i had let the weariness of the world catch on to me then i am sure i would have looked much much older. Instead i prefer to radiate the beauty around."
"Wow, i'd have to say thats the first time i've come across somebody with that angle on life. You sure its not because of daily visit to a well equipped spa?"
"No i'd rather spend my money on pani puris."
"Hey wanna catch a movie, i think we'll still make it for the last show"
So we were off to the metro adlabs, the place was nice and rooted in history, now with upgradation by adlabs it was nicer. We caught a sallu flick, oh how she enjoyed it like a small kid, in the middle we even got into a popcorn fight, the hall was more or less empty so well nobody was there to get disturbed.
After that i went to drop her off to her hotel room. It was a three star kinda thingy i forget the name now, nice place, clean and decently efficient service. It looked like she hade made it her base, books sprawled about, lots of movie and music cds, and a couple of board games. She had made full use of the suite there.
"Better a suite in a three star than a room in a five star" she said with a grin.
"Yeah and its been used properly, how long have you been camping here"
"Almost about a month, last week left, after that its Germany"
"You've been all over the world, live out of hotel suites, what is it that you do, an heiress or something?"
She broke out laughing, got up went to the fridge and got a tub of Chunky monkey ice cream.
"Inquisitive are we, no not an heiress, something completely different. You wanna play the Xbox?"
So we spent the night eating ice cream, playing nfs, yapping. I told her about all the places i had been to as a kid when dad was in the army and she about her trip to egyp, the pyramids, the whole history of the pharaoahs really interested her, her eyes lit up as she told me one story after another. Some where in the night or early morning we fell asleep there in the hall itself.
I guess i woke up first, but she claims it was her but anyways it was well into the afternoon when we woke up, it was december time and the nice and breezy in the balcony, so we ordered for some pot roast and fresh orange juice.
"So you wanted to know what i do"
"well when i was about your age i was a trader on the capital market. I was also purported to be a genius on the market. did that stuff for two years, made a lot of moolah, then got bored. I didn't want to be doing that all my life."
She let it all sink in, the awe and all and then she continued "What i really wanted to do was see the world and enjoy sex, i enjoy it like there's no better pleasure in this world, so i became a prostitute."
I didn't actually drop everything but my speed of chewing on the chicken leg got slow, very slow. "Thats interesting, another new perspective i've come across, i used to think women found it disgusting as in being used and all."
She smiled "Yes they do because they are forced into it, abused like inanimate objects and thrown away. What i do however is by choice, with a select few. I enjoy sex like everyone else, probably much more, and i make the guy pay for it, big money that is. Fair deal."
"But don't you find it morally incongruent with the rest of the society?"
"The society yes, living in its own moral high grounds. We all sell some part of us, out time, labour, minds, i've just added body pleasure to the list. And if you look at all the actors and actresses so do they and get paid abnoxious amounts for it."
"They get paid for their art, acting skills as they call it"
"i'm sure we would not call the sex scenes as being free, they get paid for the art and their indulgence and they have to do it in front of the people all around. I do it for my own pleasure in private"
"But one day your beauty will decline and people will not be willing to shell out money for you, won't you be all lonely then?"
"I enjoy being with these kids, i'll probably join up as a volunteer somewhere, i was always the independent types don't think i want to ever get married or for that matter somebody would ever want to marry me."
"Hmmm interesting, so what about these people who are your clients, how do you come across them"
"Well the first time i started, there was this nice bar in Manhattan 'The Red Chilli', there was this nice looking guy sitting on the bar sipping a what else Manhattan, he had a lovely brown leather jacket on, smelt nice and his shoes were clean. I went and sat next to him and chatted him up, he bought me a round of drinks, we had dinner. He was fun to talk to, later he wanted to take me to his place. I told him that would cost him a prince's ransom. He pointed to the lamborghini in the parking, i'm sure we can rescue the princess. That was the most memorable one, but all of the people i have met have been nice, i think i have a little angel up there keeping me safe, that i only get to meet the nice ones."
We spent the next six days together, celebrated her b'day and all, all throughout though the mention of sex never came up between us. We fought, we played, we sometimes ended up sleeping in a cuddle but there was never a sexual energy between us. We went to museums, to orphanages to play with the kids, to hospitals to visit the cancer patients. Everywhere she went it was like she was taking the hope of the rising sun and shining it through into everybody around. We said goodbye on a Tuesday at the airport as she took off for Germany.
As i left the airport i had a smile on my face and i believe a radiance similar to the one i had seen on a pretty face recently...
We still correspond qutie frequently, she sends lovely postcards from all over.