a shadow in the evening

It took me a while to find my tongue. …Who are you? Staring in amazement I muttered under my breath.

Wrapped in the evening blush a callow youth wet behind the ears, you were standing in the doorway.

Holding the cup of non-dairy butter and cream I vegged out in the veranda. I could feel your gaze lightly skimming my rose chikan saree. A waft of steamy momo balls immersed in hot, tangy sauce bursting with exotic spices kissed my senses out of the blue.

In the dim light, I watched you sauntering towards me.

…Who are you…?


Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is a mother of two lovely kids and hails from the northeastern town of India Gorakhpur. Her perpetual displeasure arising from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture as well as the conditioning for compliance urged her to put down the impressions in her mind. In her spare time, she likes to have some culinary adventures with her kids.

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