Posted:
Author's Note: This is a standalone impromptu piece. I have no plot beyond what you see here. So keep that in mind when making requests, Take care.
No, it wouldn't be the same with this other woman. She was only half as pretty, half as kind, half as witty, half as fun. Her lips were only half as soft, her hugs only half as tight. And at the end of the night when the moonlight began to fade and the sun rose red from a distance, his heart missed hers beating next to him. The other woman could never align the rhythm of her heart to his the way She did. As if he already knew where he belonged, he could never quite was of the sign of her kisses on his lips, the scent of her perfume on his neck, the wrinkles of figure on his bed.
He didn't realize what he was doing but his wandering thoughts knew he was drawn to the one familiar street of his ex-lover. He stood outside shouting her name as if calling her enough times would erase their fights out of her head.
"Madhubala, Madhubala, Madhubala"
Her name was a prayer said said in silence, breathing life in the stale city air.
"Madhubala, Madhubala, Madhubala", the name rung clear in her ears. She opened the side window amidst the deafening sounds of thunder bolts. She looked down into the street, he was waiting for her attention in pouring rain. But she saw nothing. Soon, she closed the window and told herself for the nth time, it was time to let him go.
Theirs was a love that got away. A moment missed like rainwater slipping through his clasped hands.
Marathi TV
