...And there she was.

...And there she was. Inching her way towards me. I could feel time slow down; to the extent that I saw sunflowers change their direction with the sun. I couldn't help but think how beautiful she was. But wait...something was different. What was it? Everything seemed the same. I was the same person. Waiting for her to come to me with the same patience. Waiting on the same step where I wait for her every Friday evening. Yes. Everything about me was the same. It must be something about her(?) But she was the same girl. Taking the same path with the same unassuming smile on her face that she had whenever she was getting closer to me. She would take the same 23 steps before she would reach me. Yes. I knew that. I knew all of that. I knew everything was the same. Yet...something was different.

And then I saw it. In a moment when the wind caught what she was wearing and took the cloth by force. In the same moment that she tried to catch the flying fabric which made her feel out of control, yet made the event seem in absolute equilibrium with the universe. In the moment that she tried to control, what was made to be uncontrollable. Why didn't she understand! Why was she trying be its master. Why was she disturbing the equilibrium. Why wouldn't she just let the cotton fly behind her and continue her walk towards me.

And while I continued asking myself these questions, I found the answer. I saw what was different. It was right there. Right in front of my eyes. It was a matter of seeing, and not just looking. The answer was draped around her like a gorgeous serpent that went and saw places where only I was allowed. It was the wind-ridden cloth, the flying fabric and the soaring cotton; it was, like it was never before; her Saree.

And that was the first time I realized something; the saree was made just with one purpose in mind: to turn men on. How could it do what it did? How could it effect, the way it did? How could a cloth that hid more than it revealed be more sensual than a skirt that made visible her smooth legs; or a tight pair of jeans that left no curve to the imagination; or a tube top which made cleavage seem like a beer cozy. How was it that I was more turned on by seeing her in this single piece of cloth, than if she were wearing the most expensive lingerie that I could buy her as a poor student. How did her bare midriff and a third of her arms, the only skin visible in her current attire, have a greater effect on my heartbeat than if I imagined her bare skin?

I failed to realize it then. But I realize it now. What turned me on was not what she was wearing, nor what she would look like when she would not be wearing it; but the process that took her from the cloth covered stage, to her completely bare self. What effected me more, was that this process was under my control.

And although I call it a process, it really required no effort. There was no unhooking; no pulling; no tearing involved. There was no need of muscle. I could have done it with my mind. I could done it with slow gusts of air; because all I needed to do was a simple action. I didn't need her to stand still while I did it. In fact movement would make it easier. Yes, movement would definitely make it easier...to unwrap. She was my gift, and I was going to have an early birthday.

And in that moment I knew a lot more than I had expected to. I knew that I believed in myself without question, that I could love the woman who was walking towards me. There was no doubt about that. I also knew that love wasn't always enough. I needed something more. We needed something more, to survive. I knew what it was. A word that occupies the same space on a page as the word 'Love' does, and yet, means something tangentially different. A word that is used to explain everything animal about the human race. Lust. And that is when I ended my session of self-realization and knowing, by concluding, that while I could love this woman religiously, if there ever were a slightest doubt to whether I lusted her or not, all I had to do to free me of my worries, was to ask her to wear a saree, and let me unwrap her.