Mind beyond 10x10

8 dead chairs, meaningless walls and a so collapsible roof. Yet it’s the most romantic time of my being. ‘Love is in the air’ chugs pass my eagerly absorbing ears. And my mind bounces between office, friends, yesterday, today and tomorrow. The unsure grey clouds lazily drift overhead. And a warm sultry touch on my lips throws me out of the reality. The cold box of sand and iron suddenly seems cozy. Private. Smells of someone. Something. Far in the distance.

The nude windows suddenly pull themselves together under the heavy curtains of my imagination. The chairs turn into an inviting irresistible couch and I see a lamp somewhere. Standing proud. Actually like a blackmailer threatening to spill my feelings. And then I hear him, a bed away. Unsure but eager. Sane but drifting. In love but removed.

Suddenly the sound of tinkling glasses syncs in with the change of the song on my i-pod and brings me back to the noise and commotion of a half-alive office. I resist. But the steaming coffee however is too alluring.

Coco smell mixed with ‘singing my pain with his fingers’ dawns upon me the realization of being in two places, simultaneously.

So picking up that coffee mug I assume it is a wine glass. Sorry, Wine bottle, cause that is how I like it.

I close my eyes and take a sip, cold breeze dances by and I feel him breathing down my neck. I open my eyes half expecting to be looking back at his. I giggle aloud. It’s my little secret that none knows in the crowded room around.

Another sip, he’s holding my wrists in his hands. A smile escapes my lips (wonder what the 60 years old gentleman to my left is thinking about my absurd behavior). I feel weak in my knees. Thousand butterflies flutter their wings inside my stomach. His hand slips through my hair, lightly resting on the back of the neck.

The song changes to ‘she’s always a woman’; the sound of a typewriter’s key assures me that reality is an arm away. Another sip and his arm slips around my waist. I pause. This does not seem right. But hey imagination has no strings attached. He pulls me closer to him. I can hardly breathe in his soft embrace. His finger brushes my hair off my cheek. My heart is leaping. Fearless but fearful. Free yet bounded. Excited but withdrawn. Leaping yet frozen. Leading on but withdrawing. To be or not to be.

My being floating in his arms. I feel the shadow of his face burning mine. We’re loosing the distance. His grip tightens around me. His fingers pull my face closer to his.

‘Yahan sign kijiye’, ‘wise men say only fools rush in’, ‘Hello madam’, ‘can’t help falling in love’. A rude jolt on my shoulder and I lose him. Forever? At least for now. Am back in the noisy office signing a much ignored paper.