Maya - Chasing the oasis

It was winter afternoon, I lit up my cigar, sipping my remaining cold Espresso while I wait for my tour guide. By the time the sky turned into a purple haze. The granite alleys were almost empty except for a street vendor playing Ravanhatta and a couple of desert goats wandering around. The saffron fort looked like a raging camel.

The bakery was snug and cozy, meticulously decorated with colourful crafts & Kathputlis (puppets). She swiftly stepped towards me, offering freshly baked vanilla muffins. She was soaked with the essence of vanilla. Her hands and the apron were smeared with flour as if she just had an intense argument with those flour doughs.

In a trice, this complex mixture of Vanilla essence & my cigar’s Tobacco made the air thick & warm; I started feeling an intimidating sweetness in my olfactory. Unknowingly I felt, I lost my whole existence, I was numb, for a moment I forgot the whole context of me being there.

I was about to ask her name, but she left by the back door. I followed her through the narrow alleys, it was like chasing an oasis. Her traces were there, yes! those sweet fragments of vanilla all around those mazes. I felt, for an unknown reason, ‘The Maya’ was kind enough to unmasked herself for a mo. I got lost, trapped into this dimension, into this worldly realm.

My tour guide was waiting inside. By the time the essence of Vanilla & Tobacco had completed their intimacy, leaving behind a conspiracy, a trail of eternal sweetness in the air. The streets became silent & the breeze became cooler. Now, the fort was barely visible. The sky was completely dark with infinite visible galaxies. Still, her traces were there, in the air!