She mentally cursed herself for not being careful. Her husband, Vaibhav, was making soft ice balls and throwing them toward her, while she was engrossed in her own investigative deliberations—distant, eyes dwelling among the sunbeams falling on the snow of Gulmarg.
“What’s the matter, Maya? You seem to be unmindful.” Vaibhav asked her, while an ice ball hit her long, black overcoat. A vague disinterest stared at him from her eyes.
Maya was jolted out of her train of thought.
Suddenly alerted, she tried hard to appear pleasant, but all she could do was smile wanly, and her black tresses touched her lips as they attuned to the cold breeze. A feeling persisted as if a pair of eyes was following her everywhere she went. She wished to tell Vaibhav about her concerns, but then decided it was best to hidethem from him. After all, she had known him only for a few months, ever since their marriage. “Let’s ride the sledge.” Vaibhav said, pointing to the series of sledges standing on the ice. The locals in phiran costumes were ready to receive the tourists and ride along with them.
“You go ahead. I’ll wait over here for you.” Maya said with a plangent cadence, somehow resisting the call of traveling to an alternate abode—the spellbinding clouds soaring above the breathtaking snow-clad mountains, the elusive mist roaming around the trees, and above all, the revivifying pine-scented, mountain air that never failed to refresh the mind and soul. The wraith of the lost ring thwarted to such an extent that her inner disquiet impeded her way to soaking in the pure solace and joy in that heavenly land.
Vaibhav wished to coax Maya to join him, but she seemed to be reluctant and no amount of persuasion would change her mind. A group of excited men whom Vaibhav had met over there waved at him, motioning him to join them. As soon as Vaibhav was out of sight, Maya aimlessly lolled around, planning to go over their trip so far.
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Esta historia es de la edición August 2024 de Storizen.
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