He carried another red candle, pinching the base of it in two fingers, twisting the candle so the melted droplets would not touch him. He stared straight ahead, his left hand tucked in his pocket. ‘Melanie was my wife,’ he said blankly, setting his own candle beside Nina’s. ‘She was kind and everyone loved her dearly. We shall prove to her as she watches from above, we shall prove to our beloved Melanie that even as we mourn, we shall not fall to our knees. We shall prove that the strength of her character has been infused in the very depths of our beings, she has given us all strength.’ The man was of medium height and build, his jaw square and his features blockishly strong and masquline. The crowd said nothing to Lucius, but the same thought was clearly visible in their angry eyes. Every person attending the funeral knew that this man, for all his words and dark suit, was here only as a formality, a show of the emotion he lacked. The rising grumble of disaproval never rose to. Here goes the story. I was 20 that time i was studding at a college in southern part of Tamil Nadu. We had a lecturer named Hemavathi all the boys in the class had a crush but Hema was a strict lady so no one was close. Once it was raining heavy it was a holiday she was staying in ladies hostel. I saw her standing under a tree she was drenched in rain i was passing in my bike. I stopped and asked her whether she needs my help. She immediately sat on the bike and asked me to drop in her hostel but i that my room was near to that place we can wait there for some time and can leave after the rain subsides. After thinking for some time she agreed we went straight to my room which was very remote place no other houses will be there. We reached the house and i gave a towel and my shirt and lungi and asked her to change her dress she went into the other room and removed her cloths and came in my shirt and lungi. She was like an angelI gave a cup of coffee and sat next to her in the sofa. It.
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