The Window Man

DISCLAIMER: This is a piece of fiction. I, in the story below, doesn’t refer to me, i.e. Aditi (Idle Muser); I, hereafter, is the unknown narrator of the story. Dear reader, before I start narrating you this fragile segment of my life, I’d implore you to not judge me for any of my then thoughts…

A woman behind the veil

Mahira always used to wear a black, plain veil; even at her workplace. Nobody ever asked her to not to wear it. She was from Kashmir and had recently shifted to Chennai for her work. But she didn’t shift alone; her husband- what he seemed to, at least, people around- did too. Nobody ever saw…