2.
1
At Salle Blanche, the roulette table did not turn to his
favour. In this pinnacle of autumn, when even the
winged animals were kept in for want of warmth, he
was captured in a chain of alarming musings, yet not
knowing what couldn't evade from its gloom. He
knew for beyond any doubt that the adorable
moments are shorter and on that, he stayed on this
concrete structure that had a watercourse streaming
along underneath would further drug mind into
debacles in thought. Summer has gone.
Another kin left home with family. They are inspired
by the family's collective aspirations. Each evening at
the feasting table, they would describe the day and
chalk out what ought to be done the next day... This
was the family's condition in a flourishing time when
they had land at every alcove of the country.
He didn't realize what to do precisely. He only
desired to sit somewhere and disregard all that stuff,
his own choosing to bring a taxi with his life partner
with the euros, his father had given at the
air terminus and come here and partake in the most
ludicrous of actions ever and lose them all...
1
3. From her part, she was oblivious to everything at the
start...Her home in Sighisoara was one of handful few
in that old style with an unmistakable perspective of
the Tanners Tower. The edifice was displayed on a
stage house, with great veneers a couple of
kilometres far from the old religious community.
Times have changed.
She met her father before going to roulette with the
fiance. His absence of excitement was clear in the
grin right before parting. Still, he gathered himself
and favoured her and reminded her to see the daisies
in the garden that have bloomed yesterday. She did
that and culled a couple of blooms while holding her
St. John's cross towards the right bosom and
summoning every single courageous thought
conceivable, stood there for some time. In the event
an odd otherworldly phenomenon could have
forborne her from these future programs, she
wished...
She fled the dwelling abruptly, her garments still on
the drier. She had just a plain cascava and frappes in
the morning which her mother had given her. She
made her take the spotted parasol for she supposed
that it may rain in the regions she went. She took the
train to Brasov to meet and report to her friend at the
dance hall, that she would be away for a week and
charged her to take care of her dancing equipment
while she was away.
2
4.
In Bucharest, she met a juvenile duo, the musical
performers. She noticed in the young lady's eye, that
extraordinary glow for future, just ladies of her kind
have, a noble and chaste zest of spirit and hope.
Essentially the equivalent of a saint spending her days
in a lorn cloister, setting herself up for something
pure and consecrated and worthy of
presenting to eras to come. The pair was rehearsing
an opera, the boy has composed on Emily Dickinson's
poem No-712. What an accident, she
thought, she has perused the lines for the nth time.
She was overwhelmed by the last section of the
steed's heads turned towards eternity...
He stayed in the chamber for three consecutive
nights, sometimes narrating libystic stories when she
would rest, her eyes on the roof and her head
trouncing on the yellow pad. It was on the third night
that it rained. She had no knowledge of seasons. In
any case, it down-poured. She held her face toward
the
murky void of the sky that was still yet dormant, with
blended emotions. The branches soaked in the
downpour, coyed, but lay helpless for some other
point. The torrent was pounding hard and wide and
talking to one another in a secret jargon that only the
3
5. branches and the earth and the ether knew. The
sprinkles fell in gigantic sheds and wet the heretofore
dry turfs in flashes and the water in strong puddles
occupied every hidden edge of sod at each drive. She
returned to the lodging and incredibly, a profound
moan of longing for another territory filled her soul.
When he returned from his walk, doused in water,
she passed the towel towards him and he wiped the
head and body mostly and with a sudden energy,
stood beside and touched her beribboned hair, his
heart ticking speedier than ever. In any case, she
realized that he couldn't extinguish even a thin bit of
what she actually stood for in this life, which will be
more akin to her choice than something offered by a
human as gift, a constant deepening of being, in her
scan for something honourable and excellent and will
keep going forever. She is alone and still, she will fill
this vacuum humbly and without a request.
3
By all means, he little realized what she was, what she
proposed to be. Notwithstanding the truth that he
has known her since childhood and they frequently
played together being cousins and members of a clan
that dispersed around in many parts, with deep roots
and customs and superstitions, scattered kinsmen,
4
6. cooperative in times of need and crisis, at dire straits
and festivities- Still, he admitted to his lack of
acquaintance with her on many fundamental levels,
unmistakably enough. This proposed wedlock was a
little stun to him as much as it was to her. It was his
loved mother's wish that he marry her and he never
wanted to affront her in any capacity in her
debilitated situation. But, did you readers asked what
was her will? This story is in a way, about that.
She was of a thin frame, but with long athletic legs,
stout hands, and a longer nose with a unique curve to
the end of it. Her lips were broad and even while she
was not smiling, it created an impression that she
was doing so. Strong, talented- that was the model
she wanted to build on, and it irked many of her
peers to admit that she was above them in many
unpredictable ways... She amazed him in the debating
club by contradicting his views. He was taking after a
critic’s line of contentions that portrayed Death as
the dignified beau, another version of Richardson’s
courtly love. She said that Emily Dickinson ought to
be explained in her own terms. First, no one caught
on. Still, after she made solid harangue against the
commentator and stated, was it after all the wistful
aspirations of a spinster, who was denied by all and
her own particular endeavours to make up for that
5
7. the feeling of denial through her poetry--Perhaps,
that was the
the minute he took a slight interest in her. He
realized
that she was marginally unique in relation to her
friends, however, they were by all accounts winged
animals of the same feather. Now, she smiled to
herself and thought of how she would take up at the
club her old argument, that is already in some circles
that Odyssey is written by a woman.
4
At the end of the dimly lit tables, she pondered over
the scene. As if it were never a part of her life. The
crowd of busy men and women, all in a self-propelled
vision, they created for this day or days like this but
grasping in the depths of mind that it amounted to
nothing significant. Losing and gaining is distributed
in the existing spectrum of life within perhaps a
broader period, but here, the members of this coterie
wanted to play that game in the wink of the eye. To
see themselves as the makers of their own destinies
in a fraction of time. These are bright struggles if it
has some reciprocity to your fellow souls, but here,
like the pilgrims of their own selfish pursuits, they
fancied to disregard that the tables could be turned
against them mercilessly. She glanced at her fiance,
6
8. who appeared cheerful and at a distance chatting to a
young pair, whom he might have known earlier. After
all, he is a regular to these destinations of odd
delights,
All on a sudden, she saw her American Literature
professor toward the finish of the lobby joined by a
young fellow who had an interesting coiffure
touching
shoulders. Yorick's skull, she thought. She went close
to the educator and wished him. The teacher was
moderately astounded at seeing her. He introduced
the
young fellow as his son to the members of the
gathering. She, in turn, introduced her fiance to both
of them, and in a short span, they became one group.
The professor said that he comes to Monte Carlo,
twice a year and he is addicted to the session of
roulette. She contemplated over this data and this
was for her another look into a man's life which she
thought as loaded with numerous inconceivable
outcomes, maybe some part obscure to her forever.
They shared a table. The teacher and
her life partner had a mojito kind of drink. But his son
requested plain water, and in the wake of opening the
pack, took the French variant of "Romola" and began
reading it while tasting the plain water at successive
interims...He asked her what she would drink and she
7
9. answered red wine and with great pleasure,he
obliged to that. Yet, other than that, they had few
talks and meanwhile, he took a gander at her in a
loving manner as though he were in a bar with his
dearest sister and a spoilt father and an equally spoilt
brother in law.
Her fiance smiled at the croupier warmly as they had
associated each other before. She was not amazed.
He had before posted concise notes from
different Italian and American gambling clubs last
summer. With the scholar, he had a spirited
conversation on Italian table games of Hoca and Biribi
and besides some French prepackaged games. He was
reviewing 1886 Hoyle betting books, single zero and
double zero and your chances of winning and such
things. She looked around and saw men and ladies in
an uncommon excitement, somewhat wild yet
purposeless at root, putting down wagers as the ball
spun around and the haggle merchant told no more
wagers. At the point when the merchant got done
with making payouts, the marker was expelled from
the board and players looked assuaged and gathered
their rewards and made new wagers. The triumphant
chips drowsily rested on the board.
8
10. In a vague vision, she had an inkling of the past when
she has gone a year ago to a town by the Swiss Alps
to see his grandparents. It was business that
brought these folks to Bucharest and additionally her
dad prized music and theatre….. On Berchtoldstag, he
made wonderful hawks. She met him again that
night, her mind loaded with whimsical c eets, half
painted and they were glad. In
the lady’s eyes flickered encompassing globes and
granules. Now she is also away in districts obscure
yet invariably listened to the rustle of a tyke...
He came there with an anguished feeling all over
while he was thumbing down everything that tagged
along with his way lastly confessing to her that all is
not well on the front and he required more time to
settle. No, he was not ruthless, but solely bordering
into a world of his own, an emperor of his imaginary
kingdom, with his own rules, vassals and courtiers.
She would not have bothered much unless it was
connected to her own story, and now it is soon going
to happen. Even the greatest saints, she has heard
copy books in their leisure time ,so that the mind is
not kept idle. She fussed for many minutes, thinking
and rethinking pieces of anecdotes of yore and
finally, his deep-throated voice was heard and he
decided to go back to the country and he called the
taxi.
9
11. 5
The train halted at the station. It was an ancient
country station that was not the standard stop of
numerous trains, because it was partially wiped away
from the new railroad map due to some changes in
policy. There was an announcement that it would
take a
few more hours for the locomotive to proceed. Some
hidden things occurred in transit, maybe a mishap,
slaughter, or sudden
switching in social situations, she didn't have an
intimation. Her fiance recommended that they put
the halt in the country, which may be an uncommon
thing to do - and see the
landscapes in the interim - and push ahead. Some
time ago, this was a well-known health resort and
was on the tourist map because of the medicinal
water in the natural springs. For half of the year, the
place remained gelid, and in November and
December there was heavy snowfall from the
mountains and during that period, the traffic was
closed...In a way he was confident. He had still the
fulgurant ring given by his mother, which she got
from her own mama, and could pledge it or even sell
it, if essential and can have a fitting time, and if things
are not reconciled that way, he still has his diamond
watch and he could accomplish something with that
10
12. and she could rest assured that he will take her back
to
Bucharest securely...She was walking a few steps
ahead and stopped suddenly so that he could reach
her and they could proceed together. She eyed him
from the corner and laboured to view the whole
scene in a fresh way, and prayed hard to give her
such a miraculous stand. All things considered, he is
his future mate and she will approve of him now and
perhaps always...
Presently they passed the finish of a line of the
the building, the shopkeeper was going after closing
the
shutters hurriedly as his wife was pursuing him.
Perhaps he had accomplished something not
fairish. All sights melted in the shimmer of a
passing day. He was gazing down into the stream, a
fresh waterway that was very similar to the one he
saw somewhere in a vision. It was in an eastern town
he ran with his uncle to see a holy person who had
put up a cottage into the edge of the stream, that was
fed just seasonally, and the sire stayed there many
months a year, but not during monsoon. His uncle
was an individual who took road contracts and went
to various towns and villages of the country and was
revered this man...
11
13.
So, this is her prospective mate and she will approve
of him now and her grandparents need no doubt
about it. From the network of roads, they took a turn
to the left which was inhabited by an ethnic
neighbourhood and there were lodges and there
were
also, a stack of mountains and ridges and falls that
were coming like a livid stream and there in the sky
was visible the first thunderbolts of the season, And
as they were moving the rain poured suddenly. And
from nowhere he had a joke, a familiar one on his lips
and he only uttered it half and it rained. Her Fiance
was not agitated vehemently over the change of
weather and instead of further complaining about the
rain, helped him call a carriage after several
endeavours, as two or three of them, moved along
without conducting them.
And ultimately they got one, a wagon pulled by a
single sturdy horse, and there was the little stretch
inside the cart which smelt of coir and hay and
sackcloth. He got inside and he pulled her speedily
into it with a little giggling and she also chuckled, this
time not thinking anything about their dismal events
at the roulette table, but reflecting about her
companion at Costesti who will wait for her at the
dancehall. Yes, for further reception of the tale. She
12
14. closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath
and closed her eyes for a few more moments. He was
still, and apparently with a host of feelings, and he
was looking deeply into the precipitation and trying
to gather from it a common language all humans in all
seasons and territories can deduce without an
interpreter. The gig advanced rocking them and her
saw herself, much fatigued to the border of a
slumber and her crest fell on his moving shoulder.
They were like two kids, in a drizzly season, in a land
discovered only this day, innocent of the world and
its dismal passions, and shrouded with something
immense and hidden, that made them unsuited for
further lapses.
……………...
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