The Echos of longing

Wedding

"Give them the red colour. It's a celebration. So red,at least something red they should wear. Instead of the grey they drape always "he said to someone.

But soon,he sat listening to the polite denial again. And he did not ask why. He knew. They knew. Those few women were the most stubborn ones he had crossed.

Red..

He had carefully selected that colour. To bind them with himself as his wives. For forever. But each time. They rejected. Any shades of red. Any other colour except grey. They never wore. They did not wear a single piece of jewellery. Not even a ring. Even a thread on their wrists.

They just did not want to stay. No matter what he did. He could see. Life fading out of them.

Finally he decided.

Picking up the knife,he stood infront of the mirror. Soon,the knife dug inside his heart.

There was a single drop of blood. The mortality he owed to another woman.

He had drawn it out. And sat. It  became a flower. And he wanted to add it to their foods. So that they won't fade away. Atleast until he is there. And he knew. He would be there . Always.

But intelligence. At times it is a curse.

He stood helpless. As the rooms they stayed was empty. They choose to leave. The fading footsteps. The deep bow towards his abode. He saw it. But still. It was their choice. He knew. He still tried.

Because his heart was beating for them.

The petals crushed. Ashes flew away alongwith them. To guard them life after life.

But the wedding remained incomplete.