Love Story – The Last Dance With Loday Lhaden
Image© Anand Vishnu Prakash, YourStoryClub.com
He wont be able to erase her from his mind. Her presence gave of an aroma of wild fruits and clear spring water, of moss and dense forest greenery. Being near her gave him a sense of freedom, purpose and calm. No other woman has had the same effect on him without saying a word.
Melodies of jazz and exotic instruments smoothly mingles with the warm colours of sunset. As the silhouette of her moving body displays against the fiery sky. The music, drifts along the open outside air, flowing through their bodies like blood. His hands, capable and spread with veins, leads her into the next few steps before she breaks away from him, like a dove from a cage. The cool breeze of dawn, breaths into her velvet-black hair, sending a chill down her spine. But only for a moment. For the warmth of his hands never leaves her for too long, before caressing her closer to him. The dim light from the set sun, lingers on her ivory skin, outlining her dark figure with a soft hazel. For a moment their intertwined bodies look merged as they stand in the heat of each others breath, moistly vibrant. His light blue eyes observes her every move, her every emotion as she gracefully twirls out of his arms and onto the open granite floor. The loose satin dress briskly brushes against her trained, firm legs as she inhabits the calming jazz, every note displayed through the gracious movement of her arms and loose body. His eyes watches her like a falcon watches prey, yet she is completely unaware of him, consumed by the music she is hypnotized.
The smell of jasmine carried by the breeze filled the open air around her, until her dance partner steppes in and leads her further. The music never ended but the day did, soon the horizon was as dark as the rest of the sky, with only a half-moon and a million flickering stars to give some dim, silver light. Enough light to allow him to gaze at the dancer from Bhutan. She resembled to a Ngalop race perfectly, easily mistaken for an Asian however not an Asian. She had dark ivory skin with a golden glow. Long, thick, black hair hanging to her waist. Dark brown eyes, with an endless depth, a full mouth with a larger upper lip. Her beauty was foreign and still, after almost three years, unknown to his eyes.
The shape of her face more round than what he was used to, and her skin clearer and cleaner than any other human being he’s ever laid eyes on. Her body was full and curvy. She was tall for her race, yet was still just medium-sized among the other races. Her ankles, strong and firm as her whole existence in her home town was dancing in the streets, amongst a group of others or alone. She was of pure blood as far as he knew, a pure Ngalop woman. Who grew up in Bhutan, in a city built on mountains and on the edges of cliffs, eye wrecking beauty and purity in the buildings as well as the people. Humble and carefree is how she seemed and also what he expected her people to be like. Woken up by the long echoing hoot of a Partridge and the wind whistling through the high mountains and huge trees. To be woken up by all that surrounds them, peace and life and balance. How could one not be completely free when awoken by such majesty?
Loday….Loday Lhaden….Even her name alone made the hair on his neck stand upright. His thoughts raced back for a split second.
He, as an internationally recognized dancer of high social position, searched for a dance partner who, like him, has a connection with music, rhythm and movement. He’s had dance partners who didn’t last long because of his arrogance, disrespect and inhumane manners. He was on dire straights when Roy, his brother told him about a woman he saw dancing in the middle of time squire. Of coarse, he laughed at the suggestion, which ended up as a fight between him and his brother. They have never been close as Roy didn’t care about social nor political status, he just lived the way he wanted to and didn’t worry about tomorrow. Dillon however, was a reckless perfectionist. Who cared only for his own desires and placed great worth to his status, wealth and popularity. They differed like day and night. However, the ‘unknown girl dancing in the streets of New York’ caught up to him and claimed his attention by accident.
He was stuck in traffic while on his way to a meeting, and his rage got the best of him. He started walking to the cause of the traffic and saw a dark-skinned girl, in a bright purple skirt twirling around her like a wave. Even though the dress stood parallel to the ground as she twirled endlessly fast, her legs could not be seen as there were more than just one layer but a few, and she also had some sort of loose leggings underneath. She was barefoot, and her long black hair was tied in a long braid. Her arms were moving and at the speed that she was dancing looked like some superstitious heavenly angel. The top she had on was white, with long loose sleeves, that as she moved, looked like wings. Her head was tilted backward, looking up at the sky. Without moving out of balance she stayed in exactly one spot, until abruptly stepping out of the hypnotizing twirl. She didn’t seem out of balance at all and danced for about ten minutes in a way that told a story, that captivated every one looking at her. He couldn’t see any fixed dancing style, but the way she jumped and twisted her legs upward, as if she could take flight, mad him think of ballet. And after a few breathtaking movements she stepped out of the street and out of sight. Yet, never out of mind, she danced through his memories for weeks after.
His curiosity grew, but his pride didn’t like the idea of dark-skinned street dancer to share his spot light. However, to his astonishment she was looking for a job, and he took hold of the opportunity. She worked as his personal secretary, but all he really wanted to do was observe her. he gave her a room in his modern mansion, and saw her leave late at night to go to a dance studio, where she currently practised hip hop and ballroom dancing. He followed her once and saw her dance to a fast song, where she mixed ballet with hip hop. She stood on one leg, with the other extended behind her as her upper body was bent forward her arms spread horizontally. The beat picked up and she fell to the floor where she continued dancing to the beat, in a hip hop/ ballet style. Even after she stopped dancing he, and every one else in the studio stood gazing at her. He, was in awe by the beauty and uniqueness of her skill and talent.
It didn’t take long before he started noticing her calm and carefree presence. Where ever she would be, there was an atmosphere of lightness. The way she moved captivated him the most. When she walked it was like her whole body was flowing into the rhythm of her footsteps. Even when only standing still, she managed to look as-if she was listening to music only she can hear. He realised that she didn’t feel uncomfortable when she caught him staring at her, all she would do is smile.Which made the whole matter worse as her smile looked like the final pose after a magnificent tango. Energetic, vibrant and daring she smiled brightly, as if for an admiring audience. He unknowingly became imprisoned by her exotic existence.
Soon after employing her they became dance partners on a dance floor and lovers behind closed doors. They learned each others rhythm and danced as one mind and one body. He has been with other woman but he has never been in love with a woman, until the first time he saw her smooth, untouched and unspoiled body in front of him, completely naked. He would never be able to forget her the way she looked that night. He was sitting in front of his grand firing place when he saw her figure emerging out of the dark. The golden-orange light of the flames danced over her bare hazel skin, making it look bronze. Her hair was tied in a knot on her head, her face, open and moist from precipitation. Her dark eyes looked at him with complete trust and a burning desire for love. His love. He stood up from his sofa and felt light-headed from not being able to breathe. He slowly walked closer until he could smell her familiar sent, of fresh wild fruits and mint. He was taller than her and she had to tilt her head backward to be able to look at him. His one hand extended to free her hair from the not. Waves of shiny black hair tumbled down her waist and hung right above her naked, tight buttocks. He knew, he would always be enslaved by her.
He frowned, trying not to lose control over his thoughts. But how could he not remember the taste of her soft lips and the warmth of her body, or how could he not remember her heavy breathing and panting. He shook the image out of his head as she stepped closer to him, in the see-through satin dress that exposed her shoulders, legs and back. It was the first dress she wore that showed as much skin and the first one he bought her. She had always worn her traditional clothing or loose brightly coloured clothing. But she promised him, that she would keep the dress he bought her.
“Dillon.” She said with that unusual accent of hers. He didn’t want to answer her for he had no words left to say to her. She moved closer to him, with one hand on his cheek. Her eyes looked at him warmly, “I have learnt to love the man you are.”
He sighed and looked at her breathlessly beautiful face. They have danced together for two years and in those years she started longing for her home. The polluted city made her sick, mentally and physically. He, had to make a choice…..he has already made it. He extended both his arms and placed his hands on her middle, pulling her closer to him. “I haven’t learned anything. But I did lay down my soul before you, and gave you my unworthy heart.” His voice came from deep inside him, and brushed against her skin. “Stay…” His voice suddenly sounded weak as he pressed his head against hers, “Stay…just stay.”
Moments passed before she lifted her head and spoke to him sweetly and softly, with her heart written down in wet lines across her cheeks. “If only, you could love me enough to not worry about my heritage, and come with me. I will give you a home Dillon. Leave the city and luxury and this life, and come to my life. I’ve been here, living in yours, now come live in mine.” Her voice was like music, as she spoke close to his ear. He didn’t want to give up his status and money for her. He didn’t want to be classified as ‘rural’ or ‘poor’. But more and mostly, he had the life he’s always wanted, how could she expect him to leave 34 years of his life.
a Month ago he had two choices in front of him. To leave with her, and love her forever, but to lose the life he spent 34 years building? She was young, 26 and have only lived in Bhutan for the first 20 years of her life before touring the word to learn foreign dancing styles. She could more easily leave her home and live with him.
“Can’t you just choose me…the way I’ve chosen you?” He said with a broken spirit, “I have given you myself, I’ve given you everything. Just stay with me, I will be your home.”
She didn’t answer, and pressed her lips to his, meeting his tongue as his hands rested on her hips. Slowly, she pulled away from him, “I’m suffocating…I cant live when my life is in the music and mountains of Bhutan.”
Suddenly, the warmth of her body left him, and he stood, looking at her walk away. Her feet walking in time with her swinging hips. The flowing movement of her dress swifts around her legs as she vanishes into darkness. Like a dancer walking of from the stage, leaving the audience to long for her return.
At the last second, before disappearing, he could see her look back and smile from a far away place where lives are lived according to happiness, and no social, political or financial bonds stand in the way of love. He should have known, that her heart and her being would never be able to survive in his world. But he knew, she changed him. Her touch, her love and her voice changed him. The freedom of her movements, and majesty in the way she moved, always followed him, like a shadow the memory of her swaying figure never left him.
–END–
