The Umbrella

Kabir Singh

December 30, 2020

Cheating Wife


The Umbrella's feature image

The weather forecast reported heavy spells of rain accompanied by heavy winds. It was soon to be lashing the city. Kasturi was savoring the howling breeze on the rooftop. She didn't care about the weather, was longing for the rain. She was not the kind of woman who would dance under rain or get damp for no reason. It just made her nostalgic about her childhood memories.

Holding the umbrella, she scaled up the stairs. The gale was blowing harder than she expected, but there was an ongoing intermittent drizzle. She puts up the umbrella.

Felicitously, I was relishing the weather too on the adjacent rooftop. Precipitously, the wind attained a significant speed. Her umbrella couldn't bear the atmospheric pressure. She meditated if she should go back while coping with mother nature. Before she could make up her mind, the umbrella double-crossed her. It eluded her hold and sailed across the neighboring rooftop.

I was seated on the chair on the adjacent roof, sipping hot tea with a Malboro Advance. I caught the sight of an unbidden umbrella drifting across the rooftop, screeching against the concrete. I haven't noticed the woman yet since I was under the roof-patio closed from three sides. The drifting umbrella made me smile. I wonder if it came from someone walking down the road. Is that even possible? Somewhat like a balloon.

But then, I saw her chasing the umbrella, what the heck. She must've vaulted onto this rooftop from the next one. Holy cow. Chasing the umbrella wearing a Saree, she hasn't regarded my presence yet. The wind howls again; the umbrella was now long gone. It starts pouring. She looks exasperatedly at the sky and turns around. Our eyes meet, she flushes scarlet, stands there mortified. Punctually, she dashes towards the edge. I stand up and stoop down by the wall to peek at her pull off the spectacular stunt.

She poised like she could sense my gaze on her skin. Or, perhaps she wasn't sure if she could do it again while there's an audience. The boundary on this rooftop is lower than that one. It will be cumbersome. She spins on her heels and runs right at me, hefting her Saree with both hands. I look away. She joins me under the patio taking the shelter.

She looks at me, flustered and embarrassed. I grin, she replicates.

Have a chat with Kabir Singh