The heavy red curtains tried to stop the wind from barging into the room but could not. The longing was too strong. The slightly plump woman in the room closed her eyes at the caress of the wind. The loose strands of her hair brushed her cheeks. A flash of remembrance threatened to push this delicious serenity away, but she was defiant. The moment was hers; the wind had given it to her, and she would not let it go.

Two kids ran towards their mother who welcomed them with open arms and hugged them tightly. Her husband looked at her lovingly. This woman was the reason he had learnt to appreciate life again. His first love. True, he had not acknowledged his love for her all these years. Nevertheless, he remembered how their eyes had locked for the last time before life pushed them apart. Beyond endurance was the pain when she had dropped her gaze, brow laden with questions he could not respond to.

The woman looked at her husband intently. She loved shared silences now; therein she had found the answers. She dropped her gaze again, only to smile at the two children who were proudly holding out their academic report cards for her to inspect. Planting congratulatory kisses on their cheeks, the mother led them into their room.

That night, the woman was in her husband’s arms, a feeling of satisfaction binding them closer. She thought quietly about the insistent wind that had prevailed over the curtains of her room one evening to help her find love within herself. Little did she know then that she had begun retracing her steps towards the one who wished for her all the happiness in the world.

Photo credit: Image courtesy of storyteller.

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Shatarupa Mishra

Assistant Professor of English And a dreamer.