She was playful, like the restless contours of a river, and he was rigid, like a bridge above. He was too shy; and she loved toying with him in her whispery giggles, and almost kisses, and he wondered at the so many secrets she possessed. Her waves splashed against him; her dues sprinkled upon him; and he, who absorbed every drop of her expressed nothing. She enjoyed every moment of it, as if mixing into the timeless waters far away, and he, as if unable to contend, became stiff, like the two ends of a bridge. The thrill in her eyes, were like a maze dying to be solved; like the psychedelic tremors of the mind. She was childlike and carefree, yet hungry and mischievous. She was too fast, like the gush of a river, yet graceful. She was a beautiful challenge; a confusing charm, and he, was puzzled to think what sort of girl she was, whether friendly or naughty. He was lost in the depth of her waters; in the tide of her tresses; in her moaning pleas, like the gushing waves of a river. How he wished to break the opaque bridge, how he wished to drown in her alluring waters, once and for all.
– Sanchayan Joarder
( Leaky Tongue )
Photograph by Abhinavanand Singh.