Gulaal
The man kept advancing.
The girl tugged hard at her shoe but the heel remained stuck in the cracked pavement. Terror building in her breast, she glanced up, again, at the approaching filthy, stinking figure.
The alley was completely deserted!
Pulling her foot free, she had just decided to drop her sandal and make a run for it, when the man reached her.
She opened her mouth to scream but the sound froze in her throat, as the stranger sprinkled some gulaal gently on her head.
Then, muttering Holi Holi’ he bounded away, his face a picture of unadulterated joy.
Sreeja Mohandas.
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