A sojourn it is.
❝His scent is petrichor. He shall always be the golden page of my recollections, of beautiful memories. The greatest archer of the time❞
Derived from the Sanskrit word स्मरण (smaraṇa, "the act of remembrance, remembrance, reminisc...
mar·ble | \ ˈmär-bəl \ limestone that is more or less crystallized by metamorphis.
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SIMRAN STARED AT THE TALES OF BEJEWELED CEILING of her moonlit chamber. She was still as those dying embers with kindles swirling in the depths of coal. Oh how she was in a battlefield, brutally fighting herself, much before the war of Mahabharat. A carved woman weeping with sharp sword in her hand, out of an ivory stone gloriously standing in the far corner of her chamber was telling her a tale.
She was like the marble sculpture. A stone who sees everything yet can't speak.
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As soon as she was in her chamber, rapidly had her legs walked to the chests of her wardrobe. Pomegranate seeds and plums attracted her in a lucence bestowed by the moon rays, she quickly grabbed some of them savoring the sweetness in her mouth of supernal. Gold anklets were mildly syncing with the melodies of wind chimes on the palladian window and then her wheatish tired hands of the day clutched to the ruby and jade studded handrail of the large box of spruce. She puckered her lips inhaling a deep breath reminiscing the fabric in her cluster of mind. The old red woven yarns treasured her life, the life she had in another world.
Handing her those lost and found old letters, Vrinda retired to her quarters leaving her friend in a conference of introspection. She skimmed through the epistles one by one and her eyes glistened like moon melting from the kohl night. Prince Yuyutsu expressed his immense commiseration wishing her strength in the thorn pathway. A serein of concern and flood of woes swarmed Princess Dushala's letter. Karn's epistle was the longest filled with various terrains and plateaus and mountains. "I wish you'd stop your gnaw overpowering you Karn" she sighed rubbing her strained eyes and letting those letters slip and rest on the lavish bed she was lain on.
The gales were so wild and passionate to kiss the burning and yearning fire flames of copper lamps that their buss flowered wisps of albino smoke as a satin burgundy curtain swished from the hanging to cover the naked frame of gumusservi moaning bronze gilded fountain. She gawked at the gold and gems on the ceiling, gilded, carved, a sewn tale of enchanted jungles and river banks and a girl of kaliyug.
