She lingered around the windows,
In the empty house full of maids and cooks and a butler.
The husband went on business trips, he laughed at her habit-
“If only you knew what there is beyond your silly window-world.”
But he went on alone, she would be too tired from travelling so much.
She lingered near the windows, draped in rich sarees, the ends pulled down her head
That covered an arm’s length effectively.
Moved from one glass case to the other with dainty grace taught by generations of good housewives.
But her decisive fingers pulled down the wooden blinds every time a rebellious sound broke the midday silence.
Eager eyes scanned side to side, peering through layers
Of cloth, of wood, of glass.
At figures interrupted by blinds and a printed veil,
A few inches of thick glass.
Music floated in the air, drifted away,
And the void was filled with more.
Eager eyes peered relentlessly through layers at every sound, at constant music emanating from a distant gramophone.
But her husband decorated her windows- his sweet gesture of love,
Thick white glasses were replaced with carved tinted ones, dark red and emerald.
He laughed with contentment, “You shall see a more colourful world from now.”
She still stood by her windows in her empty house,
Pulled down the blinds sharp at every sound,
And peered through prints, wood and coloured glass,
At shapes and sizes interrupted by layers one too many
She tried hard to make sense of her colourful world.
Prompt by Daily Post: Constant