Dayma rose with the late winter sun, twisting her hair into a knot, her saree coiled tightly around her hips, and stepped into the courtyard to wash. The stone floor felt cold to her bare soles. It matched the freeze that spread itself through her loins. Uninterrupted, they were left to themselves: drowsy, hibernating, patted fondly to sleep.
Her duty as oldest daughter-in-law began and ended in the kitchen, and the noise and chaos of their large household came to a firm halt in the silence and stillness of their clean-to-a-fault bedroom.
Dayma thought of herself as a healer, the comforter of baby boo-boos, applicator of turmeric on kitchen cuts, banisher of in-laws’ migraines, reliever of joint pain, soother of ruffled spirits.
Dayma was a human ice pack, the chill drawn from her unstirred vaginal walls that housed a castle with a geriatric spinning cobwebs under its attic.
She radiated calm, even composure, as she stepped back into the bedroom and placed the earthen container of steaming tea by her meditating husband’s prostrate form.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Wow! This is beautiful. Full story please……. (er…..that’s 2 bars so far; Just sayin;) 😉
The calm and composed Dayma
Sounds a lot like a rural dai-ma
The husband who’s prostrate
Should be heated up in the prostate
So he can inject some Life into her vagina!
Lovely post.Incidentally,was reading abt Ramakrishna Paramahamsa’s wife on wiki yesterday- your post reminded me of her today
What on earth…
MomWithaDot: Some stories are best delivered in slivers. 😉 There’s a variation coming up, though!
Aunty G: 😆 Love that sauce, Aunty G! Love it.
Nidhi: Please share the link? 🙂
alice: It’s all here. On earth.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramakrishna#Marriage This is what I was talking about
oh to be queen of one’s vaginal castle, and not the jester that heals all with chocolate and cheap puns
Beautiful…I want more.
Nidhi: Thank you. 🙂
Null Pointer: Or the fool who scored all the laughs.
Sheryl: There will be more. 🙂
as long as she scored.
And your opening para – with the knotty hair, hip-coiled sari and the traveling stone coldness – like the others have said, thirsty for more.
Null Pointer: Other stories will quench you. 🙂