Sunday, March 1, 2009

Untitled - 2


Her face was blackened with smudged kohl and coagulated blood. From this distance it seemed impossible to distinguish.Her hands bore wounds from where the broken glass bangles had cut her skin and from where the rough coconut ropes had bound her wrists, leaving them raw.Both just about distinguishable.Her foot was bare. Not at all unusual in this part of the country where all except the sahukar went barefoot. Her loose, soiled sari was soaked with blood- receding as it flew down, originating at her neck which was sliced. This clearly visible.

Swearing, Prasad brought out a spade from his toolbox at the banyan tree and started digging just next to Padma's body. She had bewitched Kara's land when she had walked through it late the previous year and now the crops wouldn't grow this year. There had been whisperings ever since she was born- an ill fated birth which saw the death of her father and within a week of that, her grandmother. "born at amavasya- what types are born on such nights you tell me?"whisperings which continued even as she grew up- "even uses maaya to learn her lessons Sita told me."
why of all places did they find only his field to dump her?

(to be contd)

P.S. I certainly did not get up at the crack of dawn to write such crap. there something wrong with my post time format and it seems that its just as stubborn as I am.And it actually had the audacity to display that changing time was illegal. Beat that.

0 chronicles more.: