The day’s fervid fires are blazing forth.

I step out of the house, to redeem the new saree. The missus gave it to the tailor for stitching a fall on to it. It is intensely hot outside. Blazing literally. Temparature surely over forty Celsius. The ball of fire, though up above the world so high, shines forth splendidly perpendicularly over me, scalding my belfry. The hottest hour of the twenty-four. Time we make use of all that precious energy going waste. And time I invent a Solar-powered bicycle.
The thin, small, harassed-looking lady at the shop-cum-residence interrupts washing her household linen, comes towards me wiping her dripping hands with the free end of her saree, smiles pleasantly and informs that the saree is not yet ready, come back at six in the evening and you will get it back positively.. I look heavenwards for effect and turn my back on the emaciated, cheerful woman.” The day its fervid fires had wasted.”, Jane Eyre describes a Midsummer eve, quoting from Thomas Campbell’s “The Turkish Lady,” a little incorrectly but more picturesquely. I sigh. It is going to take another six sweltering hours for the day here, to interrupt wasting its fervid fires.
Here is a link to the poem by Thomas Campbell.
I will write a little bit about Charlotte Bronte in one of my future posts. Hopefully.


About versa kay

Agile, keen, versatile,considerate,patient
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