Simar

Late at night on the 23rd of July of 2022, Simar the young pizza vendor said that he was born in 2002. "Born in the 21st century!" I exclaimed. He kept enquiring why I didn't have a girlfriend or why I didn't get married. I explained that I liked being like a "Buddhist monk." I liked my freedom and independence. I didn't believe in bringing children into this world of dissatisfaction. I said that some people wanted children as a kind of "fake" immortality. Personality forms from both genes and environment, so even a clone brother would eventually have a different personality. Simar said that in the eastern part India, there were many Buddhists. I said that I knew a bit of Indian history, in that at one time, India was mostly Buddhist, but later, Hinduism reabsorbed Buddhism, and Hinduism became dominant once again. Simar was interested that I had been a software engineer in three different countries. Simar never tried the fruit durian, which I explained had a controversial odour, but was a luxury fruit of buttery texture to Orientals.

[T]heir beautiful tresses were braided and incensed; and they were wrapped in symars whiter than alabaster.

[T]he profusion of her sable tresses, which, each arranged in its own spiral of twisted curls, fell down upon as much of a snow-white neck and bosom as a simarre of the richest Persian silk, […]