THE STORYTELLER AND I

The Storyteller and I live together. The Storyteller lives a life. I only sit back and luxuriate in the view.

I am a marvelously tranquil person. I let the world be and lead a quiet life. I walk the roads with some amount of caution and a tad bit of indifference. I never look into others’ eyes lest I see something unknown and tempting. I am conscious of each breath I take, each move I make, each time I blink my eye. May be I am lethargic. May be I am self content. May be I dread mistakes. I like to smell of yellow mandarin. I like the finer things in life, I find joy in simplicity. May be I am a bit of a romantic, may be I am subtle. I routinely wake up early, dress sensibly, live mechanically and look refined.

The Storyteller is a fallen angel. She never lets me sleep. I do what I need; She does what She wants. She wiles the day away in trifles, never eats and comes alive at night. She walks the deserted streets of life hunting for a muse, sucks the blood out of it and takes it home for some more. She dresses like a rebel… Her hair unkempt and the tresses all about Her face, all the way to the back… She always smells of freesias and amber… Her eyes are always smeared with kohl… and when She closes them Her lids glitter… constant inebriation makes Her steps uneven… but Her hips sway just so slightly. She has a twinkle in Her eye… they always shine from the games She played and won… She always has a story to tell, and a muse to prey on.

She distracts me all the time. She walks the path of life like an imp, in every step She makes mistakes; She breaks the glasses of routine in my life and I follow to pick up the shards. She laughs with flamboyance and speaks carefree, I only smile and resist. She tempts; I promise. She wins; I only about manage to finish the game. She can kill with an icy calmness; I can only shoot. She overwhelms; I only manage to catch a little interest. She looks at men straight in the eye; She only amuses herself but I fall in love…

Yes, She is a nerve! But we still live together because when I have no dreams of my own, she lets me borrow some of Hers. She brings back my lost illusions and also makes miracles happen.

So, when She did find her muse that other balmy night and said She wants to weave a spell….. I smiled and let Her… I knew when I see Her next, She will have a magical story to tell…