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One of the infinite manifestations of love is Inspiration... |
Mity sipped her tea, her brow furrowed in concentration. And then her face lit up. âIâve got it!â she cried. âHow about âspoonâ?â Amin frowned. âSpoon? How can I use âspoonâ when this songâs about a woman feeling lonesome, missing her lover?â âWell, âspoonâ rhymes with âmoonâ,â retorted Mity. âAnyway, itâs better than any of those weird words youâve come up with: like balloon, rune, swoonâŚâshe broke off, giggling. âNext, youâll suggest âpantaloons'; or maybe 'buffoonâ!" Her eyes danced with mirth. Amin rose. âYouâre not being helpful at all!â he growled, and stepped out on to the terrace garden. The earth-brown tiles were ablaze in the afternoon sunlight. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke at a passing bluebottle, his eyes moody. He had to finish writing the song soonâtheir gig was on Saturday, less than two days away. He knew Mity would be fine with the lyrics, whatever they wereâŚwith her silvery, three-octave voice, she could bring passion and soul into anything she sang. âYou can make a blues song from a chemical equation!â heâd once told her. But he needed to rehearse the guitar chords with her. And he wanted to get this song right: heâd worked so hard on the lines. It was just this last stanza that was killing him. The first line went: âWithout you, I drift alone, like the moonâŚâ And thenâŚwhat? His mind was blank. He finished his cigarette and went back in. The room was empty, but the notepad was in front of Mityâs empty chair. He picked it up and read what sheâd written: âWithout you I drift, lonesome as the Moon⌠Yearning for my Earth; to hug, to spoon Oh! Come quickly, come back to me soon Alone, Iâm like a song without a tuneâŚâ [298 words] |