Sridevi

The night is silent. Rain outside the window, an unfamiliar smell in the air. Sridevi stands in front of the mirror, her wet saree shimmering in the soft light. Waiting in her eyes—for an invisible man, whom she can only feel. She starts dancing to the rhythm of the rain, as if the whole room is swept away by the melody of love. Suddenly it seems that someone is right behind her. She looks back—no one is there, but she feels the warmth of his breath. She closes her eyes and whispers—