My ஆத்திரம், my ஆங்காரம்.

Photo: Kali by Raja Ravi Varma from Wikipedia

This is an excerpt of a journal entry that I have been editing for my book. Yes, that novel that I’ve been working on for all of my life. The book of my heart.

—

She turns her head towards me and says, hey there sister, is there something you need tending to. I concentrate hard and her form becomes clearer - a svelte body, long curly hair.

Her skin is a midnight blue and her eyes are dark, dark, dark, the black as infinite as the night sky. When she looks at you, it is the white of her eyes that catch your attention first, because against the pure black of her pupils, the whites are stark, almost maddeningly clear, like a crystal. In the middle of her forehead is a single red dot. If you stare long enough, the pottu blinks at you, it becomes an eye, the third one, the one that she uses to unleash her powers, before it becomes plump, soft, innocuous again.

She has a septum piercing in gold that twinkles prettily alongside the other piercings - a little diamond heart on one nostril, a small, perfectly spherical round stud in the other. When she opens her mouth, you see the earth balanced in the middle of her red, red tongue. The truth is, she carries the fire that burns in all our hearts in her mouth; if you dip in for a kiss, her heat singes your lips. She smiles, knowing that her beauty is so tantalising, that there is no way you can stay away from her for too long. Her smile reveals perfect white teeth in a row, except for one, one little fang, on which rests a drop of blue, blue poison. Touch it, and that is the end, her smile seems to say.