The Honeyed Truth dread, far away somewhere in the abyss began to scratch the veins of heart, who knew why ominous sigh had stuck to her. She got life as other get, like a sour and sweet tablet, from outward sweet and within sour, but that sigh was neither sweet nor sour, it was poisonous and absorbed in her each nerve. Then no one knew in which frequency many moans used to become a part of her blood. Outside there was silence when for the first time Meena listened to the sigh at the night. It can’t be recalled which part of the night it was. While sleeping she felt as if some warm hand touched her cheeks, the hand was warm and as soft as cotton, she jerked and opened her eyes, she was still feeling warmth of the fresh touch on her face. For a few moments she lay motionless like a slab. She turned her neck round unhurriedly; her husband was sleeping with his back to her. On his broad shoulder a mole was throbbing, his thick hair with a slight curve on his neck looked very handsome. Meena many times asked Asif to keep his hair short, but he loved the hair as he grew them lovingly. He often laughed and set aside her request, his long curvy hair gave Meena a girlish look. She took a long breath, her hand slipped and rested on his shoulder unintentionally but the sigh that emerged from the side infused in it shivering. Meena shivered from top to toe, her breath held for a moment, she looked fearing at the other side but nothing was there, except profound silence, and deep darkness. Moan was again heard from somewhere near, Meena clang to the back of Asif as cuscuta clings to some wall. It seemed as if she had been waiting for centuries for some third sigh arising from the womb semi-darkness, but silence proved victorious, and the sleep placed her hand on the lashes of her eyes. Early in the morning, there spread a mischievous smile over the lips
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