Asha Saraswathi's Stories

Knitting Dreams

She heard no music. She heard no screams. The roaring cataract meant nothing to her. The raging wind said nothing to her... Not of blood rivers Not of falling bodies Not of festering wounds Not of clothes ripped off Not of hearts plucked out Not of tears wrung dry Not of souls cracked and broken Not of voices that died long before they were born... In the shadow of the mighty mountains, in the burning chill, she sat doing what she had to - for, she was a mother and she was knitting dreams..

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