Somewhere on a summer evening..

It wasn't much of a bright summer day. I could feel the gentle breeze soak up the little shiny sweat drops that my forehead managed to put out as a mark of protest against my customary evening stroll to the Central garden. Of course it wasn't an effective fat burner, but did help me give the evening clock a faster tick. After retiring , there was nothing much to look forward to anyways. Indeed, being the only retired person in the family was boring me to the core. While it lasted, my unfamiliarity to our new locality helped me meet new people of different backgrounds and cultures. Mrs. Molly of the 10th, a well built attractive lady from caribbeans, always made it a point to wave like to a carnival troop as and when i passed. If it hadn't been for her not so private, loud display of affection for her husband, I would've suspected that she loves me. Mr and Mrs Walker had the habit of attending to their garden together in the evening. I overheard a few maids at the local coffee shop opine that the Walkers made a bit too much of fuss about a simple backyard garden which was hardly ten steps by fifteen steps in size. I had come to know from Mrs. Stella that expecting a good turnout this year, the Walkers had had their crop insured . I wonder what they would get for ten plants and a handful of mushrooms anyways.

Mr and Mrs Stell Winston worked at the same office as stock brokers. Both had been brilliant as students. At times Mr. Winston would join my evening walks. But today, apparently big client meets kept him from coming back early and so I had to sit and worry about burnt calories alone.

I always sit at the same bench in the park. Today was no different. The short concrete bench on which a couple had declared their undying love gave me a sense of happyness n satisfaction. Perhaps it was just the shade of the trees but I chose to believe that it's the association to love that the bench witnessed that made me feel at home and relaxed here. Again, the bench offered a view of the park entrance though from a distance. Every new person entering the garden brought with them the quintessential quota of human presence which without any doubt was what kept me connected to this little green spot in the concrete jungle that my city has turned out to be.

A quick refreshing breeze struck me on my face cleansing all my weariness. That was when I noticed a group of five enter the park. Tastefully dressed and adorned with bright evening clothes that blended only too naturally with the ambience of the park. Five ladies in their mid thirties I believe. One of them despite the allegiance to the group stood out. She looked charming. They sat close to me by the small pool with a fountain. The pretty one was a chirpy parrot. She was definitely a sweet soul and though married, I envied her husband for a moment. The moment then stretched and gathered magnitude as each glance fed the attraction that was swelling in my mind. Her smile was infectious. The entire group looked positively happy that she was with them. Even I was happy that I was here to witness this beauty. Her friends stood up and moved to the icecream stall towards the north end as she sat there readying some sandwiches. Lucky bread, lucky butter, lucky knife, lucky piece of earth that she sat on, lucky air that she inhaled I thought. I just knew it. It was now or never. I walked over to her and sat down by her side. I told myself that I had to come up with some conversation that was interesting and stimulating. I had to get to know her better. I asked her first if I could get some water and while I sat sipping slowly, managed to get her talking and it felt good. Her name was Elena. Slowly, I finally found out what I wanted to know more than anything else. She wasn't married. I asked for no reasons. Whatever they were, they were all favourable for me. Thanks to the burgeoning crowd at the park, her friends did not come back for quite some time and I was as happy as I ever could be.


I asked her for her phone number. She looked more than just happy to give it to me. I wrote it down and kept it safely. When her friends got back, I greeted them and got up and came back to my bench. I was happy or I was confused, I didn't know. Each heart beat reminded me of the truth. I am married and I am attracted now to a stranger. But I didn't feel bad. Nothing was wrong with getting attracted, I thought. Most probably I will never call her, I said myself. I was wrong. I called her up after about an hour which felt like a decade to me.She was alone, shopping close to my house. I called her over for a coffee. She agreed readily and in about ten minutes she was at my doorstep. She stood pretty in a white dress. She looked ravishing. "Coffee or champagne?", I enquired. There was no bounds to my joy as she came close to me whispered in my ears that a champagne could do the trick. Three glasses down, I was sure that there was nothing that could stop me from doing what I wanted. She looked pretty buzzed too. But she knew what she was doing and infact looked pretty keen too. She went around the house appreciating the paintings through the first two shots and finally landed on the couch as I gave her the third. She downed the last in a quick clean draw and with an astounding sense of surity asked me, " where is your bedroom? can we go see it?". Next I remember, we were sitting on my bed and I was kissing her neck, her arms around my waist. I held her face in my hands and we kissed. She was amazing. I had never felt better. She gave me a smile and fell back on the bed. I kissed her tummy and she let out a seductive moan.
"Ting tong" , the bell rang. I got up suddenly. I was worried. I had lost all sense of time. I had been a fool. I was supposed to be going out tonite for a dinner with family friends with my family. Elena got up too. She asked me why I looked a bit nervous. That was when it finally struck her I guess. She asked me, " You are married, aren't you?". Her eyes glistened and she said nothing. I just asked her to stay calm and to let me handle the situation first. I took her along to the door and opened it. I introduced Elena first. It wasn't hard to spot that Elena was almost in tears. That was when John, my husband, took to me the bedroom and asked me, " You din't think it was important to mention that you are married, did you ?".

lady's cycles!

Disclaimer: This is not an article intended at releasin pressure.. its just an observation and an inference.. :P

In ma previous post I had, after a particularly heavy lunch i guess, announced mind blowing blogs on human nature (what crap is that anyways? :P) . Anyways, to be honest, am just blogging to kill time and that very reason has made me come here again at 2 at night. :)

I had come across this video today on female period cycles and its effect on their sexual behaviour through the month. Some (self-proclaimed?) expert declared that women look out for macho looking men during their ovulation phase where they are most ready to conceive. On the other hand, women prefer sweet natured guys at other times ,for, they are the ones who can take care of the kids and the family better.

Now, being an IITian , I hardly get to see too many gals around. So, the above mentioned theory finds no potential example here. Orkut ( a networking site, for those who dont know) on the other hand, with soaring youth population has led me to come across some very funny cases. I have observed that committed gals above 20 normally have very sweet looking guys and ones below 20 years of age are with guys whom i would best compare to a cross of eminem, marilyn manson, a villager and a thick headed dumb arsehole. :P

does this mean that gals above 20 are lookin forward to settling down while the others just want a good &@# ????

ohhh anyways... now that I am on this topic, I suggest you to watch this Italian movie called The Last Kiss.. It does a wonderful job at capturing on reel the thought process a man/woman goes through when it comes to love/commitment.. :)

ummm.. guess its time to say g'nite.. infact I still am in the mood to write a story.. lemme see.. :)

an answer..

ummmm...

The long break that i had from blogging led me to ask myself a question that someone had asked me a loooong time ago when i had just started blogging... "why the name -'a free tree standing' ? "

hmmm.. my motivation to blog had been some events that were unfolding around me in my life at that point of time. I was certainly feeling enthusiastic just like any beginner and at the same time, besides the zeal of a newbie, I was driven by a distinct sense of freedom (or a fighting urge for it). I was riding on waves of transformation and each ripple hitting the shores of my intellectual continent (its smaller than the smallest island, i must own up :P) infused fresh lease of life to the need for happyness acheived through freedom. I wanted to announce that my trust in what i believe is deep-rooted like a centuries old tree. Hence, I came up with this name.

Anyways, after this gap that seems like a decade to me, am getting back to blogging and this new season I believe(atleast for the time being) will be exploring some elements of human nature and behaviour that I will be looking at, standing on the shoulders of some great film makers. Indeed cinema is not life. I believe it's much bigger. An attempt by some people who think differently, at drawing up a picture out of the scars and lines that they endured through a period of search for answers and more questions , a quest that we call life.

back to blogway..

Though my blogs never created any substantial emotional stir to the moron that I am, I somehow had managed to forget my blogger login/ passwd. Guess it was just lethargy that fuelled the event. Anyways, the other day I was sitting with Abir,a friend of mine, who in his customary ultra-short sports shorts was watchin an episode of two and a half men. Of course I had gone to share a fag which required me to sit through an episode of a sitcom that i had never seen before. Thanks to the brilliant lack of any need of prior knowledge of the series, I enjoyed the twenty minutes watching a kinda well made plot for the day revolving around the protagonist's forgotten childhood trauma of having seen his mother have sex with an arbit man. Freudian funda being the phenomenon portrayed, the creators threw in a bit of love making here and there to gradually 'give' back the lead role his well hidden memories. Twenty minutes up, fag-hunger satisfied , i got back to my room and driven by an urge to get back to bloggin to kill time that i have in plentiful these days , I thought I should learn a lesson from the show and started hunting for cues that would lead me to recover my lost blogger id and passwd. Indeed, after an hour of log-hunting and time-correlation to related activity i did during the days I used to blog, I managed to finally remember it and here I am. I shall blog again. And now that blogger has shifted to google accounts, I would never forget the login/passwd that I also use to enter my little blue planet. Oh no, not mother earth. I am speakin about orkut! :)
and ummm.. special thanks to that someone (that someone knows who it is) who played an essential part in the build up of the circumstances that lead me to coining orkut 'my little blue planet'.