Protidhoni

The Jumbled me. What i say, what i heard and what i feel. This blog is about me. These are some of my Short Stories.

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Protidhoni is an echo!

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Drenched

A SHORT STORY

ANABIL GOSWAMI

It was only when I saw it I started missing it.

“Why don’t you come and visit me?” My grandmother had asked me the moment I called her after coming back home after almost four years. Unable to make any excuses, for indeed I was on a long vacation, I had said that I would certainly oblige. What was surprising was that sometimes an obligation can make us realize the tolls of commitments.

“Will you be having a network there?” My team had asked me when I announced that any correspondence for the coming month would be strictly over my Blackberry as I would be on leave to visit my parents in Guwahati. I had sulked for I myself was not sure besides the affirmative I had got from the voice over the phone when I had asked the same question the night before. At that moment I started wondering whether I should be making the trip. It was only when my early morning flight was cruising besides the silver Himalayas as the April sun rose from the east that I realized that I should have done this more often.

“Don’t forget to call up Aita”. My mother reminded me as she drove me through the streets of the city where I was born. I however was busy reading a mail that was of no interest to me sent by someone who had very little interest in me. Delete. I was connected well enough I happily surmised. But now was the time for me to relax and start enjoying my vacation. I told my mother that I would call up everybody and try to meet every uncle and aunty. I realized that this time I would have to socialize a lot to compensate the years of my absence. First it had to be my grandmother or my Aita as we call her. She was getting old and missed her grandchildren. After my phone call to her it was decided that I would be going to visit her with my uncle that very evening.

“They have repaired the road now”. My uncle uninterestedly told me as we drove in the dark stretch that connects my grandmother’s home to civilization. Although the village is only a hundred kilometers away from Guwahati it still has not joined the race to rapid urbanization. And then I saw it. It was only when I saw it I started missing it. The clear star studded sky. The same sky that shine above me every night. But different, very different. Although it was not safe outside as both men with guns and snakes with venom prowl, I knew I had to get down. I told my uncle that although it was years now I would still find my way home and insisted on walking the last mile or so alone. As soon as I got down from the car I realized that I had made a wise decision for what enveloped me now besides the darkness was a cool breeze which carried the fresh fragrance of the green tea plants that danced all around me as if it was being nature’s ambassador in welcoming me.

“You people certainly know how to make good tea!” My girl friend had commented as I flaunted my culture in front of her for the first time when I was trying to gain her attention as a young college boy. I had explained that the tea was not fresh enough although it came from home only that day. It was then I realized that fresh Assamese tea was Greek to her. I went ahead and explained the importance of freshness in tea and how it can be preserved by proper storage. I also told her about this village and how our house is surrounded by a tea garden. I explained the importance of the tea buds and the leaves and how in the spring the wind carries far and wide a strong fragrance of tea. And as I stood there and felt the freshness gripping me I remembered how I had a tough time in explaining the difference in that fragrance from the one she is so used to in the tea she drinks. I stood there for a while eyes closed.

“There is your Leo.” My sister had shown me my star sign as she drew invisible lines in the sky as a kid. And then when I opened my eyes to see the real reason for my getting down, I realized that over the years I had given up watching something which I was so fond of in my childhood. Every night I used to rush out side after completing my homework to sit in the darkness and watch the clear sky above me. I used to admire how they persistently shone with unblemished majesty. The moon would jealously flaunt her carefree beauty soaking every admirer beneath. The temptress would seductively play hide and seek with the silver clouds trying to divert every attention towards her. Sometimes a meteorite would dance its way through the sky pretending to be a star but equally beautiful. But today I stood there speechless as I saw the tiny silver spots twinkling in black velvet. Clear and innocent. I smiled as I failed to identify even a single constellation. But they were right there. And many more. As the breeze teased me joyfully I realized how unwary nature was about my betrayal. She displayed all her love for me just as she did when I was a child. Or did she mistake me for someone else? Do I deserve such impeccable attention and love from someone I have abandoned over seemingly brighter and prettier things? Yet as I smiled and closed my eyes to breath in I could hear the trees softly whistling a song for me. The crickets happily chirped away telling tales of their adventures unwary that tonight they have an eavesdropper. The croaking of the toads made me realize that I certainly missed all these I used to so merrily relish as a kid when I visited my grandmother. I smiled and felt thankful that I could be so close to nature for once after so many years.

Right from the birth of mankind, the beauty of the stars must have been there to be relished. The stars must have been the inspiration for many who went ahead to discover the true spirits of learning. The stars that shine above could have very well been burnt out long before our earth was even formed, but they still can guide many to understand the intricacies of religions and sciences alike. Millions of children grow up singing about the stars and thousands aspire to travel through the stars someday. But today the city lights shine so bright that it clouds the darkness that can light up countless inspirations. Nature sings for us every night. It’s just that we never look up.

“There you are. At last! How are you?” My grandmother asked.

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2 Comments:

Blogger Sridevi said...

hey there Ashtray,... that was a real good one...

12:53 AM  
Blogger Bidisha said...

really loved this one.... for a few moments at least, this is sure to make the reader drenched in nature!

11:32 AM  

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