Tuesday, August 14, 2007


Her brown hair a mess of waves framing her face and hunched shoulders.
A light feeling makes her giddy in stomach and tingles down to her toes.

Her pencil pauses as she smiles at the familiar rush of delightful excitement.

It may not be the same as the night of limelight at terraced gardens. Of a dance of jumps, linked arms and waists wrapped in red satin sashes.

Or of the embarrassment at the rehearsals on the cool tiled floors near the World Trade Centre [of 40 odd storeys] .

Her heart rolled on the waves of the sea in anticipation.
It will not be the same but it'll be enchanting.
All over Again.

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