From my window seat on the train, I beheld the wild hurricane outside streaming like purple pearls in a passionate molten outburst.  I gasped, enraptured at this wild beauty.  Someone tapped my shoulder.  It was a man holding a sheet of paper.  

"I've a sketch for you, miss."

"For me?"

"Yes.  I couldn't help capturing the misty passion in your beautiful eyes as you mirrored that storm in your silky sari!"

"Thanks!" I gushed, awestruck at that sketch and the intimate fire in our locked eyes.

     That portrait's lasted with passionate memories though we never met again!


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Amita Raj

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