Immersed In Intimacy-A Rustic Unfoldment Of Love

By Staff

Friday, February 6, 2009, 11:33

A rustic love story often unfolds the subtle yet strong flavour of intimacy from the depth of the being. The rustic social setting seldom allows the expression of establishing love outwardly in the normal circumstances. Forget about a widow in love.

She earned her living after her husband's demise by getting herself employed as a maid in a well to do household. Her beau sold lottery tickets to make his living. He was a bachelor with a simple and a pleasant bearing that villagers normally exuded rendering charm to the very village life. A man of few words, he was liked by almost all the villagers.

The love between the both grew silently but steadily without of course the knowledge of his parents. The marriage proposals that came his way were quietly rejected with muteness alone being the answer for well wishers who questioned. The occasional exchange of words happened when she was to run an errand to the near by shop or when she carried lunch for her employer to his close by farm.

The couple guarded their love under cover satisfied with the few opportunities that lay before them. However sometimes when their heart ached, they resorted to stretch beyond their limitations of talking their hearts out in temple festivals and fairs hosted in other villages. Did the wind in the farm whisper or the festivals and fairs that fostered the relationship falter in their favour? A faint knowledge of the relationship amidst the villagers broke forth into whispers when either of them passed by. This however could not deter them to detain their love confined only to their hearts. The open fields in the far end of the village with the whistling winds and bleating of the goats became their abode of love. Nothing much actually could be drawn from them by suspecting relatives and curious friends as their love lay there for them and them only to be exposed and explored.

The love that lay beneath the two hearts thus could not much be figured out by the villagers until when it gushed forth in all its intensity to the knowledge of the ones who possessed a slight inkling. It was but yet a secret to the others who were ignorant. This was when a massive heart attack claimed her life but not her love. He suffered silently under the starry night with the wanning moon at the cruelty of death. The next day death trotted to his door, this time must be more submissively as it was his love that claimed his life and not death. He submitted to it without the least resistance to its embrace. A natural death in the most natural way. The traitor was now a comrade who would accompany him to traverse the unknown lands to conjoin his beloved to be immersed in love. Perhaps a new beginning to the old story, rather the continuing story.

The streets, the wind, the fields and fairs all whisper their love while their love still wander in the memory lane of those who tried to peep into the pages of their hearts.