"Five", she shrieked, her eyebrows swiftly raised as if to clear even traces of any obstructions the eyes might encounter in flashing their light bulb like presence.
"Just?" he smirked. "You jest?"
"No-o", she sang in some melody-tone. Her voice was his favourite music and its up-down intonations - not always in perfect sur but always appealing in its unique imperfect throw - were a manifestation of some clamber that perfectly planted strings in her, made. They were loose when she was lazy, tight when she was high-spirited, rugged when she expressed frustration and sharp enough to cut when she was angry.
"Five's a good number na...it gives you two, gives me two and gives us both the room to fight over the last one", she sang again, this time more convincingly than her usual times; victoriously, coz she managed to voice some logic despite possessing zilch reasoning capabilities.
He was stronger at thinking, or so he thought. "Well", he looked up at the empty ceiling conjuring up thoughts of how it might be if the roof was the floor and the floor was the roof. Would we be lying down next to a fan? Maybe yearning for the bed above? He abandoned the thought murkily. "Why not three?" he asked "That would give us one each and one for everything else!"
"Nah...too much time to spare", she sang again, all low notes this time around. "We've got what, another 30 years? Thats like 30/3...10 years per unit?...Too much micro-management ho jayega...Five, I like."
"Arre, count in my time too...I'll take away enough of it..." he ran his fingers over her thick, black hair "you've gotta factor me in no?...no choice" he smiled.
"Hmmm...okay...", she turned around and faced him, her palms, one over the other on his chest and her chin resting on the little hillock, the joints of her fingers made. " But still...I like five" she stopped reasoning. Why say why when you know and I know?
"Lets change the topic no...you've lost your wit abhi", he quipped lazily. "Chalo, actually lets take a nap."
Something agitated her. "Nahi, five kids...thats it", she sat up, looked around and got outa the bed. "I don like you", she resorted to her usual last resort.
"Hmmmmmmm!"
She walked around to the other side of the bed.
He strained his arm, caught her by her wrist - that tiny bone of a thing that she never managed to unlock from his clasp. She fought harder this time and reached the valleys of his armpit. "Ouch", he yelped and let go as she walked towards the door.
"Ayeeee", he found his tune this time and held on till she turned around. He persisted under the very same breath, in the same concoction of air that lingered around melodiously; he turned around to face her in his straight, sharp, unidirectional gaze and quaintly added the much-needed lyrics -
"Are you sure?" he winked impishly!
"Just?" he smirked. "You jest?"
"No-o", she sang in some melody-tone. Her voice was his favourite music and its up-down intonations - not always in perfect sur but always appealing in its unique imperfect throw - were a manifestation of some clamber that perfectly planted strings in her, made. They were loose when she was lazy, tight when she was high-spirited, rugged when she expressed frustration and sharp enough to cut when she was angry.
"Five's a good number na...it gives you two, gives me two and gives us both the room to fight over the last one", she sang again, this time more convincingly than her usual times; victoriously, coz she managed to voice some logic despite possessing zilch reasoning capabilities.
He was stronger at thinking, or so he thought. "Well", he looked up at the empty ceiling conjuring up thoughts of how it might be if the roof was the floor and the floor was the roof. Would we be lying down next to a fan? Maybe yearning for the bed above? He abandoned the thought murkily. "Why not three?" he asked "That would give us one each and one for everything else!"
"Nah...too much time to spare", she sang again, all low notes this time around. "We've got what, another 30 years? Thats like 30/3...10 years per unit?...Too much micro-management ho jayega...Five, I like."
"Arre, count in my time too...I'll take away enough of it..." he ran his fingers over her thick, black hair "you've gotta factor me in no?...no choice" he smiled.
"Hmmm...okay...", she turned around and faced him, her palms, one over the other on his chest and her chin resting on the little hillock, the joints of her fingers made. " But still...I like five" she stopped reasoning. Why say why when you know and I know?
"Lets change the topic no...you've lost your wit abhi", he quipped lazily. "Chalo, actually lets take a nap."
Something agitated her. "Nahi, five kids...thats it", she sat up, looked around and got outa the bed. "I don like you", she resorted to her usual last resort.
"Hmmmmmmm!"
She walked around to the other side of the bed.
He strained his arm, caught her by her wrist - that tiny bone of a thing that she never managed to unlock from his clasp. She fought harder this time and reached the valleys of his armpit. "Ouch", he yelped and let go as she walked towards the door.
"Ayeeee", he found his tune this time and held on till she turned around. He persisted under the very same breath, in the same concoction of air that lingered around melodiously; he turned around to face her in his straight, sharp, unidirectional gaze and quaintly added the much-needed lyrics -
"Are you sure?" he winked impishly!
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