I first came across her while enjoying a customary and rather delicious piece of fruit post-dinner. She appeared suddenly, and the moment I saw her I was transfixed. Her feminine grace; her slender body; her sensual movements; and a hint of shyness in her demeanor, where she stole glances at me and yet did not meet my strong gaze. In awe and with wonder, I watched her perform her delicate dance in front of me–a form that was both unique and new, and strangely familiar. Surely she must have spent an era perfecting this. No, on second thought, this seems to come naturally to her. As she twisted and turned on the surface that was her natural milieu, my natural curiosity overtook me. I could not help but wonder who she was and where she came from and how she ended up here. What was her life story? Did she belong here, was it her choice, or was she a mere victim of circumstance? Much to my dejection, however, my train of thought and my interest in this wondrous performance was rather crudely interrupted by my father’s howl. Since then I have christened her Gulaboo, the sundi in my amrood.
Posted by Gulbadan 
