"Stalagmites and stalactites are the only things left in this place.
Some dripping cause I am losing memory and others cause this memory is going places I never went."
Groggily the old lady returned back to what she had been doing since ages.
Settled in her tutelage of broken chair near the creaking window sill she again poured back,on the memories that had been her only will.
Every day after getting up,which din't mean waking,running errands,bathing,having breakfast and settling to read a paper.It simply meant that she opened her eyes,eyes which could scarcely see but still her only hope.
She knew that once she opens eyes it wont be dusk but she knew for the coming 4 hours she couldn't sleep anyway.
So she waited with her eyes open nowadays reminiscing her days of glory, of beauty.
Of times when she was the one looked at,looked upon.
When she knew that boys from the end of the walkway would just pass her only to have a look at the peeking naval from the flowing sari.And she stood as if unaware just watering the plants.
Of ladies who would spew venom at even the mention of her name cause she always stood apart even in the most simple attires.
Of heaven in the arms of the salesperson she met once,of glittering nights with her husband's friend,of flowing hemlines with the school teacher.
And of what not.
She had not been the ordinary,nor the normal.
A friend of her once told her that she was born before her time.
She had been a student of history.And she always believed that she had been born years after her time.
Infact she felt that her pleasures could not be satiated by people of ranks,of fame,of power.
She only yearned for freedom.
She believed that the prowess in bed could only be determined by the feelings in head.
Not that she yearned to look for academicians or intellectuals but for men with spine.
For men who believed that there was one will and which was theirs.
She had inanimate conversations with a self of which she felt herself being a part.
A body with this self she just kept searching but only got parts of in different people.
It wasn't easy to woo her.Infact if even somebody thought of wooing her she would never look back leave alone being wooed.
She was a women with a world of her own.
And the man she set her eyes on shouldn't be someone whom others cherished.
Nor should he have cared.
Till she met him.
A cynic at thoughts,a magician at actions.
She could never unravel him.
At times the most serious looking person but the one who always came up with the best jokes.
Jokes where you cried while laughing but at a second thought seemed as the most profound thinking ever done.
"Her hate and her love never mingled but for him she could herself not think nor single."
He was the most erratic disposition she ever had.
Even before being laid she had sequenced the coherent rhythm a 1000 times in her head.
She actually knew the breaths and the timing of the shudders she would feel as she knew most of the time.
But this time things were different.
He was different.
She felt that a thousand nights and a million omens too were small for that night.
That was one day and today another one.
She is still looking at the ceiling.When the maid walks in.
When the sun comes out and another day sets in.
And still now till now she can feel him,that night makes her life luminous till now.
A night where she felt him not beside her but in her.
this weeks 3WW words-erratic, luminous and omen.