Weaving of Arachne

"Home can be anywhere. You just have to feel at ease, that's most important", Naina always remembers these words of her mother whenever she feels homesick. It has been three years since she came to Delhi, and still there are times when she desperately misses her dad's hugs and mom's mouth-watering dishes. She knows how hard it is to live away from home and family in a new city and how ruthless it can be at times. Since last few days on her way to college she has been noticing a group of middle-aged men and women, and children squatting in the local park. Needless to say that everybody was viewing them with suspicion and derision. A few young boys even ventured to throw stones at the squatter's group to prove their manhood. Naina was disheartened to see the callous attitude of her neighbours towards people who might desperately need help. However, when Naina approached them, they eyed her with distrust and the children were visibly hostile towards her. N

                                                     Since the day she entered this palatial house in her bridal attire, she could always sense a palpable gloom lingering amidst the colossal marble pillars and the daunting doorways whose intricate details were tapestry of limestone. This house is a specimen of best workmanship so much so that the tiniest detail inspires awe of the onlooker. Moreover the house always booms with celebration of some sort or the other, it seems as if the house has been charmed by some fairy to be perpetually encased in celebratory air just like in fairy tales. But all the festivity of the world failed to dispel the gloom that hung in the air. Especially susceptible to this pervasive gloom, it seemed to be, was the new bride. She could tell that this gloom had a deep sigh of yearning in it, which felt strangely familiar. Another thing that she noticed since the day she entered the house was a faint note of music wafting from inside the house. It