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Technology Stocks : Don't You Cry -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: HG who wrote (137)	2/8/2003 1:45:56 AM
From: HG	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 239

Fragrant Vows Sweet woody smoke wafts around the courtyard in waves. Tomorrow Saif weds Maahir - today its her turn with the incense now. She glides towards the center of gathering with measured steps and polished gait of a bride-to-be, peeling off her head-band and loosening her serpentine tresses along the way. She stops before the pot of incense and self consciously slides her fingers through the luscious hair. Lowered eye smile at the circle of family and friends. She bends forward and her hair falls in a ring of darkness around the incense. Inside the tunnel of her tresses, she inhales the fragrance of the woody smoke and gently sways, her torso rocking side to side in rhythm with the arabic folk songs the older women sing in the background. In the audience, her mother closes her eyes and cups her hands towards the skies in gratitude - another daughter’s wedding, bismillah. The smoke silently blows on Saif’s face and seeps into her hair, encasing every strand in layers of perfume, gifting its fragrance to make her special, before meandering away to the canvas ceiling of the wedding tent. She remains hunched over for a long time, careening with the song, amorous dreams of tomorrow, while the silk breathes in and out the melodies of incense,. Then she arches her back, tosses the locks over and around her head and shoulders. The cascading waterfalls tumble against her breasts and graze her thighs as she walks back slowly, bent head and radiant smiles, to reclaim her spot in the audience. She’s one more step closer to ecstasy. A timeworn face leans over and a withered hand delicately touches her perfumed tresses with joy for the present, and memories of another girl, another wedding far away in time. Saif smiles into her grandmothers misty eyes. Meanwhile, the next girl walks to take her turn with incense.