Bindu Menon's Stories

The Blue Sweater

“Poor Kinkri,” the village murmured behind her back. She scuffed her way amongst them holding her green bag close. Buoyant steps one after the other. She reached her spot... her mind was chaotic… she had this secret to keep... from Somnath, from everyone… Her prayers answered... she would no longer be called childless, barren… a life sprouted within her… Somnath doesn’t know of the heavenly creature who comes to her on long lonely nights... Gandharva they call him… to me, he is nameless, faceless… I hear them saying I am senile... I have been coming here for years, knitting a blue sweater, a sweater that doesn’t finish..

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