Sketchstory No. 20 - 'Bindu' by Nikita Sharma

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Bindu. 


That wasn't her name, but the one I gave her. I don't know her name. But, every morning at precisely 8 a.m., she would come to her roof top to dry out wet clothes. And I saw her in that process from my roof top. It started with catching her gaze, to polite smiles and now an awaited wave of the hand.


I would sip on my morning tea and wonder about her. She would aways be wearing that bindi and humming lightly to herself. Today I watched her again, but today was different. I had a dream about her last night, and I felt her. Her warmth... the love she gave me, it goes beyond my years. Beyond this life. 


I am sure I have loved her in a previous life. We were lovers. I talked to her and my soul tells me we are both broken; we are the same pieces of a soul, just put back together differently. I waved again to her, this time she walked up to me. 


The first words we ever spoke.

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