A Child yet not One
We all have friends. Some whom we have literally lived entire eternities with. Some whom we never seemed to have enough time to be with. The latter just whiz by, as quickly as the sigh of the wind, nevertheless leaving a mark behind. I still remember her. Her oval bindi, of bright crimson, a stark contrast to her unusually fair skin, which bore visible hints of lavish servings of turmeric. Her locks were thick and lustrous, and coiled like a thick rope down to her hips. When she walked, it was with the music of her anklets. A tiny nose ring usually winked at the beholder. This ring, changed its colours to compliment the outfits she wore. She was slight as a reed dancing in the wind. I would tell her one day she would be swept away by a wind too strong. She was one of the first (and probably the only) friends I got when I changed schools. I thought I knew everything about the town I grew up in since childhood. God probably giggled at my ignorance. Put in a publi...