White Pillows

She sat on the corner of the bed resting her head against the wall. Her hair lustrous & thick fell on the white cushion looking amazingly beautiful. Lost in some deep thought she was tapping fingers to an imaginary melody.

Lunch was kept untouched on the table. She sat lonely for some more time listening to her imagination.

“Last time I made him a curry of canned fish, he had it all out of love for me. I think he didn’t want to hurt me. He only said that it was not the right way to be cooked and that it could taste better.” She told me with little miserable attitude.

She wanted to tell him that she had cooked it with much care this time and she was sure that he will love it. I could read her thoughts.

All I told tell her was how to add the right spices in right amount.

One tea spoon of coriander powder
Half a tea spoon of chilli powder
Little of Turmeric
And lots of love.

She waited eagerly for the night to come. For him to come.

It was 10 minutes past 9o’clock. He slept gracefully in the closed room. Had she woked him up the silence of the house would break into a lot of 'No!'s

She didn't. Just like her sleeping emotions of love. The other side of love. The lusty love. She walked around picking the fallen pillows from the floor, putting them back on the bed.

Just a sign of love please. 'No!'. She slept without a smile.

Toe rings, her favorites ones were found under his pillows the next morning.

Under the White Pillows of love...