A desolate path. A path that glowed with hopes. A path that you chose and we looked at you with pride. A path that is waiting.
A vista that made our summers blissful but you found wider ones, away from us, from the hills that raised you. How easily do we forget the fun of growing up!
You said you would come back. I know you never lie. Each day we sit here and rush back to our cottage to hear some news about you but the only connection we have with you sits mute.
You said you would keep in touch. I know you never forget your promises. Your dad disagrees. He says, “I don’t care.” But I can see his wet eyes; a lump in his throat is also visible.
I don’t believe what he says. I tell him I care; the umbilical cord is throbbing within me. I know the call would reach you.
The path gapes at me. The flowers don’t bloom any more. Birds look at my face and wonder whether they should sing a happy song. Only wind witches around me.
The candle is burning, its flame may be threatened by the wind but it refuses to die down. I have many more to brighten my evenings. The flickering flame exudes a thousand messages. I can discern them.
Dark, rumbling clouds stirred him out. He stretched and looked around. Some of his friends were flying high but he couldn’t miss the sound – muffled yet clear.
“What are you digging?” Vendatta stood at the edge of the valley.
“To lend… to exchange.”
“Really? But souls are said to be free. They soar higher than clouds.”
“Beliefs don’t misguide me. I know my passion.”
“Where do you find them?”
“Some are buried and some fly high. Some I capture and bury.”
“Can you lend me one?”
“Sure,” said the Digger.
“Can I keep it forever?”
“Depends! If you have the inclination and the strength.”
All his depression melted.
Vendatta was a changed man now. He knew his destination.
Ah! The invitation! The exhilaration!
A dream come true!
She looked forward to the dance party – an annual ritual that she had seen from the seams. Today she would be the center of attraction – the lady with the veil, an enigma for everyone.
Eager to see the lady, we started the long trek to the magical land, hoping to reach before getting dehydrated. A mirage that seemed so near yet kept receding.
A greenway led us to the circular dance stage. Mist melted as we neared the venue.
One beat converted the stones into drums. We watched, mesmerized by the music. The sun suddenly grew dim, as if commanded by some unknown force.
The crescendo could be heard beyond eternity.
And there she was! A perfect figure, as if chiseled by an artist, making her first appearance. Twirling round and round, creating a divine circle around her…no beginning…no ending, just like the circle of life – palpable, perpetual.
I looked around and smiled with glee, wondering how did it all change? A lifetime dream had been accomplished! I sat in my round house, disseminating silvery light. Children sat around me in a semi-circle, awed by the stories I could tell them, one after the other. My adventure in the ocean was the favorite one, and evoked a thousand questions.
“How could you traverse it?”
“Didn’t you get lost?”
“Yes, I did,” I mused, “I couldn’t get back.”
I don’t know how many days had passed as I drifted between slumber and consciousness. All pain had dissipated when I saw the face of a nurse who asked how I was feeling. I told her I dreamt I was the moon and had a magnificent view of the earth from space. Green and blue colors added charm to my stories. I closed my eyes, anticipating the same serenity.
An escape from the outside world, a realm of serenity beckoned him. Each time he visited it to calm his inner storms, the color of nature painted his soul. A cadence of flowing water gave him new hope. He immersed his angst in the water, shared his fears with the branches that tossed them away into the air.
Dora’s face smiled from the water that cascaded downhill. A soft hand touched his shoulders. An angelic voice spoke syllables that he yearned to listen.
“I don’t want to see you here, Ron. Go home.”
“I didn’t come to meet you. This is my haven of peace.”
“But you disturb my peace. Go away. Let me rest,” her smile vanished as Dora spoke with a smoky voice.
Crestfallen, Ron walked home to face his demons alone. Moments of life grew blurry. All love crumbled as he looked at the changing colors of Dora’s picture in his living room.