Cinnamon eyes

Indian vegetable market

Image: Pixabay

 

His eyes betray him.

His skin is acceptably pale, freckles prickling his nose, hair mousy like his father’s, sun-bleached at the temples.

But charcoal lashes ring almond eyes, irises dark as cinnamon bark. One look and the chill English rain evaporates, the wind loses its icy nip and with it the stink of petrol and chemical perfume.

Now, the stunted oaks are gone, replaced by ferny tamarinds, pods clacking in a breeze soft with jasmine and musk, cardamon and sandalwood. A chai wallah calls, pouring a boiling arc of saffron scented tea from one pot to another, rickshaws bump and rattle, always onward, always gone.

Yes, his eyes betray him. But not to you.

To you they are a world you’re breathless to understand and with each stolen glance you yearn to discover more.


 

Written for The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt – EYES. See here to read more posts.

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23 thoughts on “Cinnamon eyes

  1. I wish someone felt that way about MY eyes! Lovely to see the word ‘chai wallah’ too. Some branches of my family have genes for blue eyes and red hair, so there was definitely something going on during the Raj probably! Off to have a chorta hazri soon… Keep doing what you do. It’s wonderful. ~ P ~

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    1. Thank you so much, Pola! I looked at your blog too – it’s beautiful :). Actually, the post was inspired by a story my dad told me. Even though he was white, he had dark brown, almond shaped eyes and he postulated it was a legacy from a relative who had been a policeman in India in the 19th C and returned home with children who weren’t his wife’s. I’m not sure if it’s true, but I thought it was an interesting place to begin a story. Unfortunately, I’ve never visited Asia, but so much of the landscape, the people and the culture look beautiful. Thank you for reading and for your lovely comments. 🙂

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      1. My pleasure. Thank you for the compliment, I sometimes despair of how hotch-potch it looks. I’m on the South Coast of Blighty myself, and I do often wonder about the original owner of those blue eyes… More on my paternal Uncle’s side. Even now I’m not particularly practised at decoding blue tinted windows of the soul, because I’m surrounded by dark eyed family. Xx.

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      2. I thought your blog had great impact – lovely visuals. Interesting how genes can throw up these anomalies. I saw recently that you can buy a DNA test that will trace your ancestry, tell you where the disparate branches of your family tree came from. It would be interesting to find out if my dad was right all along. Happy writing 🙂

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      1. Thanks Jane. Never been to India, but have always been fascinated by the culture – the colours, the temples, the largest democracy in the world, the smatterings of English culture that have mixed with local beliefs. Where did you go in India?

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      2. That’s a thorny subject. I planned to go with a male friend, Fred, but I thought his wife may get the wrong idea. By the time she told me she didn’t mind, I’d already agreed to go with my sister and her (ex) husband. Then a friend who sold the Big Issue asked me if he could come along, so I said yes, then my sister’s best friend wanted to join us, then some other people wanted to meet us over there. We ended taking a plane from Delhi to Goa on the second day. I was furious. My original plan (agreed with my friend Fred) was to go to the foothills of Nepal. My holiday had been hijacked, and when, after three days in Goa, I told my sister I wanted to go North, and I ‘d meet her at the airport, she was so worried that I may get lost or killed that I gave in and stayed the whole time in Goa. It was an experience, but it wasn’t what I’d planned.

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      3. How frustrating for you. Whenever there’s a large group of people involved and the majority rules someone always misses out on what they wanted to do. I have a friend who hijacked her friends’ holiday to Italy and though she’s lovely, she’s also very bossy and controlling – I think by the end of the holiday her friends wished they’d been stronger and told her ‘no’ when she asked to go with them 🙂

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      4. t’s very frustrating. We had meetings before the holiday to sort out an itinerary. Every time I opened my mouth I was shouted down, so I stopped listening, and I had no idea when we hit Mumbai (it wasn’t Delhi after all) that we were going straight to Goa. We could have got a cheap package tour, leaving the group at the airport and going off on our own, then returning to catch the plane with them. We’d have saved a fortune…

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