My Seductive Neighbour...
You sense her even before she enters your line of vision. There seems to be a constant light emanating from her being. Like Mata Hari, on a mission to seduce you with her persona, you be man, woman, old or young.
With clear, sharp features highlighted against long, luscious, black locks, and a voluptuous figure under her belt, she stuns you easily.
Taking full advantage of the tall sway she holds over everyone, she does nothing to hide her garrulous nature.
Wherever she goes, she demands attention. And she gets it. Everyone within eye distance is compelled to look at the vision and admire her loud beauty and louder choice of clothes.
You may spot her easily in her printed yellow boxer shorts and a flimsy ultramarine blouse looking straight into your soul with her enormous, dark, liquid eyes thickly lined with kohl. Her chandelier blue earrings bobbing about will catch your fancy like a bird in mid flight you suddenly want to capture and keep for yourself.
An arched eyebrow and a sartorial greeting in her booming voice then might incapacitate you enough to fall prey.
Like the jingling church bells on a sunny Sunday morning, her pleasant laughter in your direction would clinch the deal to her satisfaction.
This beautiful peacock-neighbour sauntered towards me and with a flick of her cascading hair exclaimed, ‘Hi dear! How did the meeting go?’ ‘
As usual’, I replied, surprised.
In her wide, dancing eyes, I could sense some new mischief.
She began scratching her face at the side of her left cheek. This made her look at once vulnerable and human. Several rings glinted on her sturdy fingers. Her silver bangles tinkled unnecessarily.
There was no denying the beauty in her perfectly waxed brows arched to good measure, large almond eyes that seemed to read your thoughts, prominent nose and small petal lips forever in a curve. Not to forget Ashe’s fair complexion.
Fairness is a much coveted trait in India. People easily take to you if you are light skinned.
The sky was turning that pinky red you see in the late evening just prior to sunset. I was shuffling my legs and trying my best to avoid eye contact with her.
‘Tell me about your meeting,’ she repeated.
‘No, I have to rush.’
Her eyes darkened. She then turned and stalked away.
I got thinking. Somehow she always seemed to know what time I went out and where, who did I meet on a given day, why did I look so happy or worried. She even knew the details of each one of my party guests!
Ashe was given to manipulations and bursts of temper. From a very young age, her playmates and teachers had become her toys, subjects to her whims and fancies.
She would often entertain herself by wrestling an innocent victim and sobbing into the lap of a sympathetic teacher who would punish the accused with detention. She always got her way.
Now, you don’t have to personally know Ashe to sense this trait in her. You can see it in her eyes, in the way she arched her brows while talking, in the tilt of her head, in her bold, persuasive tone.