She had completely sunk into the memories of her recent past that had thoroughly bedraggled her from the defiled gratification and embarrassment, unpleasing as it had always been. She felt as if her otherwise weighty and trenchant words had turned hollow and pompous that provoked not a thoughtful attentiveness but a carefree rowdy laughter in her audience causing her to believe that her remarks were rather absurd than witty. She smelled the scent of mockery in the air she breathed while in an auditorium hall. After she was done with her messed up speech, as she believed it was, she found the audience clasping their hands to produce the sound of derision at her shaky, erroneous and empty rhetoric. Her conscience was decisively invaded by the robust discomfort that ruled her every instinct. It was beyond her ability to escape the scheduled speech and had became too unyielding for her capacity to push away those elusive scenes that kept haunting her mind incessantly. All the time while she was uttering her words on ‘societal awareness’, her mind was murmuring with her self the disgust it met.
Mind- broken, for heartbroken she hadn’t long been, she left the hall as soon as she got finished, walked the hasty steps down the alley and entered the same sparsely visited archaic museum that had two galleries; one with images and the other with idols of rare qualities but very few in frequency. She entered the one with the idols for it had enough cozy space to lye down comfortably and without much disciplinary awareness. She rested her bag and climbed up on her usual seat by the side of the window that was aesthetically craved and shrewdly perforated to form an interesting pattern. From that window she stared outside and was again forced to watch the same diabolic picture that kept haunting her since the day before. Tired she was, she got even more for much of her energy was vested on the stretching of her cerebral muscles. The tension produced was shockingly enormous. However, she still was enduring it for she could not drain it out of her mind. It had been a long time that she had sheded tears and it seemed totally awkward to her about the idea of doing so. Anxiety had hardened her face and turned her body stiff. Vague and bizarre emotions had turned her judgmental conscience defunct.
She was confined by the nature of bond she shared with that other lady. She forgot everything about what was right and what was wrong, what was amorous and what was not. She was blown away by that unruly tempest of ignorance. She didn’t mourned at her looted conscience for she didn’t had enough consciousness left for it. Anger and agony had shrouded her completely and she saw nothing except what that shroud constituted of. Though the view they held were way too harsh, her eyes still kept blooming with that regular kind feelings. Her decisive mode of presence was her unique and interesting feature that caught the passerbies' sight. No visitor would pass by without having at least a cursory inspection of her being. Her perturbation and inner commotion had turned her visage even more beautiful; she looked even more enthralling without that fatal smile, might be because the anger was genuine, true, just and in accord with the emotions she was filled with. The naive wrath of hers had colored her face pink and the intensity of the hue kept changing with the switching of the scenes, of the pictures from mild to devastating. The pictures of her elder sister, of that guy and of both being together, few that were and few she imagined that might have been kept projecting themselves incessantly in the screen of her mind. The images were ruthlessly itching her mind and eating her wisdom. At one moment, she felt as if to go straightly upto her sister and slap hard on her bony cheeks and at the other moment to again go up to her and embrace her so tight that she might end of crushing herself and remind her to stop short the blunder she was uprising. However, at every moment she thought of not letting her beautiful and intelligent sister debase her majestic aura by melting along with the essence of such lowly, subordinate creature. Her brown, deep almond eyes, his pale, nerved, bulging ones; her smooth and slightly concave small nose, his bulky and sufficiently convex nose with big nostrils; her finely shaped thin pink lips, his twisted, thick and blued ones; her spacious forehead and his congested one; her jolly, majestic face and his bourgeois, wrathful one; her round and elegant neck, his irregular and lengthy one- the one like of an ostrich; her feminine curvy stature and his not masculine and quite incongruous one; her thin long sensual legs and his short flabby and disproportioned ones; her dignified conduct and his reckless one; she kept gauging the compatibility factor between her sister’s belongings and the guy’s and every time the result she incurred was null. She found absolutely no trace of compatibility between the two of them. She didn’t even realized what it was to be biased and what it was to be just; what was true and what was exaggerated. She actually had no desire to have realized. She saw things near and far, right and left, clearly but in a way she wished to rather than they actually were. It wasn’t the projections she saw of the things that were; it was actually she saw before her the projections of the pictures that were in her psyche. And not all the images in her psyche matched the real pictures. She could in no way imagine the guy and her lady together; she was determined not to. Her determination was so firm, so solid that it should break down only with the breaking down of her own.
The heat from the vigorous reactions her emotions were undergoing made her sweat severely. The gentle wind blowing through the window made her wet self feel cold. Without a second thought, she took out from her bag the remaining last long and thin cigarette stick, smoked it and blew the thick fumes out of her nostrils. She felt a bit composed and appeared a bit discomposed. Her stiff and motionless body started making the moves. After a while, she was alarmed by the alarm she had mistakenly set on her cell phone to buzz at 5 p.m. instead of 5 a.m. It was also the time for the museum to be closed. She gently lifted her self, got down the seat, wore her straw-weaved slippers, picked her bag up, carried it on the right shoulder alone and made her still not awakened feet move briskly towards her abode gazing at those very pictures which kept manifesting themselves on the screen of her mind..
