While the key-note address goes on, here I am, back in my room, white page on my lap. I am pretty fallen, surely, you would think? Tell you what, I have a better story. As we proceeded towards the Refreshment, a wee bit late, with cups of tea and coffee between my friend and me, the balcony called out to me. By the way, we cannot see the sea. There was a huge swinging hanging-chair though, one of those rounded and full. Cushioned in art, and as you would know already, anything artsy invites me. So, I declare, 'I will sit on this!' and settle myself down. Boom! It went down. Trust the weight to do it. My beloved friend kept laughing, as did I, thankfully proving I was not hurt. Participants all around were shocked, as you can imagine. But, I? I was not.
Reclaiming authority, I asked the volunteers to have the damn thing removed. Fallen woman have a lot of luxury, we get to rest, we are anyway tainted. Bones and soul intact, I decided to give my head a rest rather than tire myself out of the agricultural inputs I would be in, now.
My friend generously supported my decision to rest and just when I claimed, 'Fallen Woman', she came up with a better one -- 'Show-Stopper'.
My presentation begins post lunch, but she insists, it has already begun!
I am fallen, in freedom, while she, she is seated, tied. The colour of my saree is royal blue, blueblooded my spirit. Dare I deny my presentation has started?
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