Heaven opened and the water hammered down, receiving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pig sty, carpet bombing still, tea-coloured puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-coloured minds. The grass looked wet green and pleased. Happy earthworms frolicked purple in the slush. Green nettles nodded. Trees bent…Avi turned page no. 10 of God of small things… this is probably for the fifteenth time he is reading the book. He felt a piercing pain in his eyes, maybe the dimly lit room is the cause of his pain-he thought. As he pulled the pillow to sleep…he re-discovered that he is not alone in the bed. He overcame the urge to pull her towards him instead moved to her side and remembered the slight blush on her face.
'Do I really love her?' he whispered to himself.
He thought of her beautiful eyes…laughter…her voice which once sounded like ringing of bells…their college and university days…
then what is missing? Why am I not feeling the same? He questioned.
She became my wife the night before… Avi concluded (still whispering).
1 comment:
Nice story.
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