There was an elderly woman residing near the lake where my mother in olden days would go to fetch water. Imagine the starlight morning when the sun is still in the horizon with its rays trying hard to penetrate. I would have never moved an inch out from home if i was mother; the pitched sound of the unknown insect had been an attention to the ear but mother would leave without any hesitation or fear. The old woman had a weary smile, slivered hair and wrinkles in bundled ; all signs of being almost in her 100th years. Drawing the water, she heard the faint sound of an infant crying nearby but mother would not move any close the old womans crib for her instincts wont allow her feet to move. The villagers had long been discussing about the witch the old woman had become, and it was still a freshly shunned topic among every household. The cries of the child wont stop and the old woman was in no sight so mother held all courage, walked her feet in grace on the dew and took hold of the child from the backyard of the thatched cottage. Deciding to confirm the identity of the old woman being a witch, mother called upon her but on getting no response, now with conscience she let herself into the cottage and there was her, on her death bed, cold and lifeless. Yes, old age had its time: She was dead. Mother carried the child home and the mystery of the child is buried deep inside her heart with so many unanswered questions. The child grew up to be a fine lady and Mother had named her - (You can see my name. Dont you? :P :D)
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 14:40:16 +0000
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