The soft rays of moon scattered on the lake created a strange feeling in her heart. A feeling of joy mingled with sadness.
A mourning sound of flute suddenly became audible.
“Who is playing a flute in the middle of a forest?” she asked her husband.
“It’s nothing honey…” he said, trying to avoid the topic. A little pressure and out spilled the story. A sad and scary one.
Long long time ago there was a shepherd in a now totally destroyed village nearby, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin priest, their love was not allowed.
Every night he used to play flute for his lover, she used to sneak out and follow the tune to his herd.
One night she stepped on a poisonous snake.
He played all night, thinking she was under vigilance.
In the morning on way back home he discovered her.
The villagers discovered them, one on the ground, the other hanging from a branch.
No one bothered about the flute lying on the ground.
The shepherd boy, they say picked up that flute and still plays it.