undefined
undefined
He’s different, this one is. not the usual welcome gust of fresh air. though he does act fresh with you. 'fact, it would be safe to say that fresh is his middle name.
We’re all familiar with him. ask any skirt-clad school girl (current and ex)...or, if you ever get so lucky, marilyn’s ghost. she should know - he was her greatest asset. he's hardly ever ignored and is most widely met with exclamations of embarassment, indignation, (pleasure?), very often followed by peals of laughter and a flush of blush that stays on for a good bit.ol' TH loves skirting up hillsides, through lonely, random stretches if the faintest possibility of catching a whiff of perfume, or even tanakha presents itself. he likes to flirt with the hem of a nun's habit, and has made many a pious monk lose his cool and his colour. i'm told the pundits in haridwar and banaras appeal to him daily, with flattering chants like "O Great TH, the ever-Humbling and Ever-powerful! Accept our humble offerings and leave our chaste dhotis alone (and unexposed) and O, p.s. have mercy especially at pujo and aarti..we are yours to do with as you please after (go bother our Naga brothers till then, surely they shouldn't mind?)" or some such incantation. and woe befall the monk who ignores this ritual. a tango with the great TH ensures that he doles out a lot more than just the desi ghee, if you get my *drift.
I have no idea how he does it, but his timing is always perfect. and don't get me started on his sense of humour. muahaah. he’s our one connection and don't you deny it. he's the tie that binds us all. my friends swear by him. his is the one mizo name they call out with unmatched relish, and at any random hour of the day.
He loves the beach, the pier, waterskiing, skydiving?, skating...well basically just about everything that you or i could do. he just does it better. and with oodles of oomph. a nice thing about him is that he don’t discriminate. not the great TH. he ain’t daunted by the young, the old, the devout or the sacrilegious. cos he bin ‘round for a long, long, long time. and if you're feelin lonely, he’ll be gracious enough to frequent your grave and blow over your pyre.
He’s worthy of a poem or two, and he's sho to inspire a few pretty soon, as the monsoon gives this country a last wild *blast.
Oh and don't ever forget that above all, he’s a Murakami zephyr.
(hopefully he’ll take this as a tribute and leave the nice people in pariong well alone. i know you’re watching you wicked old devil you).
note: the Mizo thli hur may be euphemistically translated to wind in heat. and yes, its a certified honest-to-goodness Mizo phrase :}
He heee so is the person in the pic your new SO?... Bin around for a long long time...reminds me of a song..
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name [Murakami?]
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah...
TH will be pleased with this tribute and will blow your way soon.. watch out.
.....with oodles of oomph.. ;)
yeah... watch out! Dont wear short skirts.. any skirt for that matter!!! However, even if u wear pants, he will still go inside the pants which is very sexy. :D Oh Sexy wind... u are so sexy!!! :P
@blind: 'm makin a wild guess that those lines up there're the modernized version of Rumpelstiltskin's song?! as fo me, i shall go wherever the wind blows :P
[peer prays that the wind blows her westward. heh]
@Mimipi: hehe thanks :D tip noted. shall surely watch out for any faxy surprises blowin my way. hih.
lol. nice, that. i'd forgotten that phrase!
hehe me too :)
Really nice...y'know...of all the elements, I always thought only the wind had a sense of humour!
thanks! hehee true too what you say bout the wind :D
Hahahahaha! Thli hur! lolz. Great read.
Hahaha, wear tight tight pants, all ye good folks!
Oh! How I love thli hur! :-)
hehehee @ all o'yous :D
The wind
The wind
The naughty wind
That blows the girl’s skirt high
But the nature is clever
It sends dust with the wind
To close the boy’s eyes
oohh the pome, the funny.
loverly!gimme more(..of the writing i mean).
thenks you Gen! lessee what the noo year brungeth