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Evening fell, purple and orange tinging the princes' muslins to delicate hues; then very quickly all was dark. Deep melancholy came over us; we all sat without speaking a word, while from afar came the clatter of tom-toms from the temple, sometimes drowning the music, which droned on in a minor key, a maundering strain without a close but constantly repeating itself.!
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Then, from a bridge across the Ganges, for a moment we had a last glimpse of the sacred city鈥攖he gold-coloured umbrellas, the throng of bathers on the steps to the river鈥攁nd then Abibulla gravely remarked, "If only India had three cities like Benares it would be impossible ever to leave it."
My friend Captain McT鈥斺, with whom I stayed, had a house with a peaked, reed-thatched roof. Round the verandah where we slept at night hung festoons of jasmine and bougainvillea. Bamboos, ph?nix, and curtains of creepers at the end of the lawn made a wall of verdure, fresh and cool; and through this were wafted the perfumes shed on the air鈥攖he scent of roses and verbena, of violet[Pg 290] or of rosemary, according to the side whence the wind blew, mingling with that of the amaryllis and honeysuckle in bloom close at hand. And in this quiet garden, far from the bazaar where the darboukhas were twanging, birds sang all night, and the fireflies danced in mazes from flower to flower.
21 August, 2019 - 13:08
Same ! Who ever likes comics give me a reply
21 August, 2019 - 13:08
The best!