The quest of love..

   

                                                                                             

       She trudged along the winding staircase.She ran her fingers on the old charm tiles with peacocks embedded below the balustrade as she climbed along the steps carefully.

Steps were narrow.Her eyes admired the intricate work.It resembled her life. You'd have to look closely to understand its flow.Or its make.

It was an old building.The enchanting glass work windows glistened bright- prussian blue, vermillion red, lemon yellow and transcending green which lit up against the sun during the day and 

The colourful light made the entire stairway look entrancing.It was one of the reasons she married him,to live in the old world charm building made of wood.. and adorned with beautiful artwork,apart from the fact that her parents wanted her to marry him as he was a  'man who looked wealthy and full of values.'

     Also because she didn't have any opinion or judgement against him.Infact,she didn't build opinions against anyone..She knew it is not the person..but the circumstances that makes a man what he is...So she believed she could live with him..in the old building..situated in a small town far way from the crowd..yet far away from desertion..somewhere in between the two worlds..

    She cooked for two..which was seldom consumed by two.She attired for his attention..he hardly ever looked.She waited long nights..he would rarely come back home..She smelt of jasmine and sandalwood.He smelt of liquor and betrayal.

   She longed for sharing the bed  in somebody's arms..for the lock of eyes that is indulged in to express the unstated desires.. folds of bedsheet to convey the story of a passionate night..for a rumpled jasmine garland that now sits still in her wavy hair..wafting away the fragrance that titillates no one..but her. She palpated the absence of a man in the house in her heart..

     

     She was like a rock..didn't need anything to sustain on..but longed the company of the blades of grass that would sprout out from below the rock only to add some green in the dull grey.

    

    She still sits by the window pane waiting for him to arrive..and allow the flowers of jasmine do its work..while she does hers..to await her love.

P.S. I don't know why I write about women.I guess its cause they are beautiful souls inside..So many emotions..such unstated expressions..