The afternoon nap

The afternoon sun was blue and bright but the sky had bales of white cotton clouds stacked one upon the other.The eyes were heavy with sleep amid intermittent sounds of women’s laughter from the street and metallic crow-caws.

In our childhood nap the eyes were heavy with sleep amid rhythmic sounds of pounding of rice and metallic crow-caws.The women who were then pounding rice are now just laughing.

The geisha had eyes like rain. The Chairman liked them much.Then there was laughter in the eyes that looked the color of rain.But then they were just memoirs of a geisha.Just memoirs.

A girl sold into slavery becomes a geisha out of own volition. Being a geisha is being an artist.Thank god she is just an artist.Thank god,that makes me feel less uncomfortable just under the ribs.

When the women were pounding the rice ,my heart-beats kept rhythm with the pounding pestle.My God ,it was pretty uncomfortable just under the ribs.Mercifully the women are now laughing in the street.And the pretty geisha is not forced to become one.She is an artist like any other artist.