Queen Of My Heart & Other Short Stories

It is almost the dead of night. The mid-fortnight half-moon has entered the domain of dreams and the sky bright as the midday lotus shines with twinkling stars. Wafting from afar are the sweet strains of the flute played by one guarding the fields... the strains from someone so distant. The quiet stillness of the atmosphere and the enveloping darkness lend a captivating spirituality to the sounds of the flute. It comes to the ears as if a great soul sitting on the opposite bank of the river and playing with the waves of water is seemingly narrating a sad story to the mute trees on the other bank.