Story - The witness - 1st part
Squirming, from the vantage point from where I could see everything, I wanted to stop her. Using one of the hand carved rails of my canopy, I wanted to throw the whole thing down before she could say, 'yes'; but I couldn't, as I could never hurt her. As it was no guarantee that the canopy would fall on him, the man trying to persuade her, and not at her, my frail Babli. I was looking at her with all my love and annoyance at the same time, thinking, "Why oh why, why doesn't she see, what he was doing, what he was getting her to do?" She had always been delicate, not that she didn't have enough flesh on her bones, but it were her bones, that were the ones so light, paper like, making her a paper machine doll. The first night, when she had come in the room, in her bridal attire, I had fallen head over heals in love. It didn't matter who she was waiting for, and who would be sharing the saffron laced milk in the silver glass with her that nigh...