Arjun Razdan

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a village where lavender fields sweep in the winds like a girl’s skirt tucked between her thighs, In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a village where the yellow stone stands out against the crystal blue of the skies. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a village called La Laupie where the local Boulanger is known for his brioche. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a village where there is a beautiful villa on the crest of the hill made in yellow stone and from whose windows lavender fields sweep in the winds like a girl’s skirt tucked between her thighs. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a village where there is a villa with lavender fields and yellow stone, and old furniture, and most particularly a mahogany dinner table …

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where I was invited once as a servant to the son of the house, well as a worker at least, or part-time friend who helped till the vineyards along with his horse, and in casual time drank with him. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, we arrived in a beautiful old voiture to be received by the father of the house, who was receiving his son, and the father of the house had a beautiful villa overlooking the lavender fields sweeping in the winds like a girl’s skirt tucked between her thighs, and whose yellow stone stood out against the crystal blue of the skies, and where the Boulanger could not be visited on that day because most probably it was a Sunday.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where there lavender fields from the windows sweep in the winds like a girl’s skirt tucked between her thighs, and where the yellow stone stands out imposing against the crystal blue of the skies, where we were invited for an apéritif. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where a father a son, his wife and his worker had apéritif together.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where a father, his son, the son’s wife and the son’s worker were having apéritif when another girl joined them. The girl’s skirt flapped in the winds like lavender fields running over the crest of the hill. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, a girl who could not hear very well but was the daughter of the house, and the sister to the brother who had a worker, who joined them all to have apéritif.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where lavender fields sweep in the winds like a girl’s skirt tucked between her thighs, where under the shade of a cypress tree, a young man first observed a blonde beauty who could not hear very well, and who had beautiful blonde ringlets falling over her voluptuous breasts. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, a mahogany dining table finally hosted a sister of the house, with the father of the house, the brother of the house, the wife of the brother of the house, and the servant fin friend of the son of the house together on the dining table, the crystal blue of the dying sky standing out against the yellow stone of the house.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where in the swimming pool a young man observed the beautiful brown limbs of the daughter of the house who was a sister to the son of the house and who did not hear very well. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where next to the shade of the tall cypress tree, next to the window through which lavender fields sweep in the winds like a girl’s skirt tucked between her thighs, and next to the sky which had a few stars appearing bright next to the silhouette of the cypress tree, a young man got placed next to the sister of the house on the big old mahogany dining table …

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where the dark sky breathes against the beaten yellow of the buildings late at night, and where the stars shine bright against the dark silhouette of the cypress tree hosting a horde of crickets, in this villa in the South of France in Drôme Provençale, a young man sat next to a girl who was the sister of the brother of the house, and they exchanged compliments.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where the dark sky breathes against the beaten yellow of the buildings late at night, where rounds of wine was exchanged, and where by mistake a fork plopped from the table and fell next to the legs of the young man who was a stranger to the house, but the worker of the brother of the house, who was enjoying himself, already a little drunk on the many rounds of drinks.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where the father of the house was hosting his guests on the big old mahogany dining table, and did his best to prove to be a good host. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where the cypresses breathe against the stars shining bright against the dark sky, and where the father recounted his life since the time he met the mother of the son of the house, and later realised he was gay, and the Doctor was forced to annul his marriage after twenty years of conjugal life together. The daughter of the house, who did not hear very well, and who have beautiful blonde ringlets and voluptuous breasts, observed the man (the stranger) sitting next to her.

In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale, lies a villa where the banter of the guests overrode the slight lapping of the waves in the swimming pool, and where a young man bent down to pick up a fork plopped from the table which had fallen next to his legs. In the South of France, in Drôme Provençale lies a villa where the dark sky breathes against the beaten yellow of the buildings late at night, and where a young man when he bent down to pick up a fork that had been plopped next to his legs, took advantage of the darkness, and ran a beautiful finger up the bare legs of the daughter of the house.

In the state capital of the state of Uttarakhand, called Dehradun, in the North of India, lies a café and bar called ********* café and bar, up the supermarket called *********, where there are four lifts to take the caféer or barer up to the ground where dinner tables host the guests next to fountains and overwhelming Bollywood music, and where once you tread up the lift to meet a boy scraping the carpet next to the lift on the 4^th floor is the list of Rules & Regulations by which the clients should comport themselves. In the state capital of the state of Uttarakhand, called Dehradun, in the North of India is a café and bar where no young man effleures the legs of the daughter of the house, and no banter is exchanged among inconnus and no nobody feels integrated in the fabric of the house, because No.9 among 10 on the list of regulations is written (sic): ‘HELPERS OR SIMILAR STAFF TO BE SEATED ON THERE TABLES’.