The Sikh and the Evening Breeze - A Facebook Love von Elisabeth Meru | Love story | ISBN 9783835930179

The Sikh and the Evening Breeze - A Facebook Love

Love story

von Elisabeth Meru
Buchcover The Sikh and the Evening Breeze - A Facebook Love | Elisabeth Meru | EAN 9783835930179 | ISBN 3-8359-3017-6 | ISBN 978-3-8359-3017-9
Backcover

The Sikh and the Evening Breeze - A Facebook Love

Love story

von Elisabeth Meru
On Facebook Elisabeth Meru meets the young Sikh Chamanjit from the Tarn Taran District, Punjab, India. A virtual mother-and-son relationship develops, until she accepts his invitation and both of them realize they love each other.
Excerpt from the text:
The sweet aromatic scent of hay. You next to me, closely familiar. My face lost in the crook of your neck. How smooth your brown skin is. My lips feel its warmth and the sea of tiny drops of sweat. In the silence surrounding us, I hear me breathe in deeply and I hear the breath leaving me again heavily and with a sigh. You put your arm around my shoulders and pull me even closer to you. You and I are lying skin to skin. We are one, we are the undivided sky. Above us, the arch of a different sky, the eternally blue cloudless sky of the Punjab. The hay rustles and crinkles as you suddenly sit upright and with a quick motion pull me underneath your muscular body. Our weight makes us sink even deeper into the hay that protects us from prying glances like a friend does. You keep me embraced with your strength as if I would run away if you didn't. Why would I want to do that if a tale of love is spun between you and me, and we don't even know how it is knitted together? "Oh, you're squishing me„, I say, and with a tender smile you loosen your powerful embrace. “Mere sanam?„, you ask. “Hanji?„ “Today…„ “Shhhh. Let's not think about it." And while I say this, I feel a boundless sadness and forlornness I can't escape from taking hold of me. Tears roll from the corners of my eyes, and you take my face into your hands and wipe the tears away with your middle fingers, as gently as if they were the tender wings of a butterfly. I catch your loving gaze, I dive deep into your clear, honest, serious eyes. „Shhh“, you whisper gently, as if I were a little girl, "shhh, don't cry. Everything's fine.„ “Nothing is fine. Today... why? Why not tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, or never? Mere yaar, love me. Love me like you've never loved me before and will never love a woman again after me."