One Day

Extract from Tagore:

Rainy Day, Frank Benson

"I remember that afternoon.  From time to time the rain would slacken, then a gust of wind would madden it again. 

It was dark inside the room, and I could not concentrate on work. I took my instrument in my hand and began a monsoon song in the mode of Malhar. 

She came out of the next room and came just up to the door. Then she went back. Once more she came and stood outside the door. After that she slowly came in and sat down. She had some sewing in her hand, with her head lowered  she kept working at it. Later she stopped sewing and sat looking at the blurred trees outside the window. 

The rain slowed, my song came to an end. She got up and went to braid her hair. 

Nothing but this. Just that one afternoon twined with rain and song and idling and darkness. 

Stories of kings and wars are scattered cheaply in history. But a tiny fragment of an afternoon story stays hidden in time's box like a rare jewel. Only two people know  of it."