You

The skies, the drizzle and the warm scent of honey inhabited the air. Fire burned peacefully, letting a cinder spark flow out and lend glow to the air around. The gentle crackles of the fireplace made their presence felt this late evening. The light was low, but enough. An occasional flash of light in the skies outside was known only by the door. Even the thunders were silent in this beautiful start of a night.

The wooden floor matched the color of the tables and the chairs. A couple of empty glasses stood proud on a few tables, showcasing the busy day that had already passed by. A thick solid door lay open baring the cool of the night to the warmth of the insides of the tavern. The curtains fluttered gently and the flames moved around gracefully like the traditional dancers of the island.

His serene but sharp gaze scanned the entire tavern. His predisposed piercing vision was given away by the creases around his now gentle eyes. He moved away from the door and he followed her, his hands on her waist, gently guiding her to the candle lit table. She moved like a whiff of fresh air but in firm and steady steps. The white and blue of her dress seemed a little wet. She sat on the chair closest to the light and he sat right next to her, facing her. The breeze played with her long black tresses. The loneliness of the bar counter reflected the silent sounds of the breeze.

As the gold of the flame fell on her cheek, He moved the lonely stand of her hair from across her face and nestled it peacefully behind her ear. He wiped a lonely tear from the back of his hand and saw a smile on her face, the first one that night. He looked at his reflection in the dark of her eye. No words were spoken.

None were needed. Ever.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/xjs-khaos/ / CC BY-SA 2.0

Through the seas of Poseidon

I want you to experience what I have experienced. I have been a silent witness to the event below. I have stood at the sidelines and have been inspired by the event taking place. I stood with him on the same deck. I mingled with the crew and was one amongst them. I could see he was in pain but I could do nothing, and I shall do nothing...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/psygote / © Vineeth Kashyap

Lightning cracked the sky, lighting the rain as it fell from its abode. The sea gleamed in different shades of gray; shades that shimmered, glittered and those that danced wild. The wind tore the sails and they fluttered like curtains on a windy day. Freezing waters lashed the deck like a whip-lash of a pirate. Water from the brutal sea and from the furious rain became one. The ship rode up the giant waves and below.

I had seen this before. This was, but, Poseidon's wrath. I could taste the salt in the air we breathed...

Water danced as he staggered to keep his feet on the deck. He was unable to hold himself on to his feet. Medicine, from seaweeds made by one of the crew members, flowed trough his veins as blood. The salt from the sea and his sweat met. He was unsure as to whom the medicine was killing more, the disease or him. He stood close to the edge of the deck staggering and swaggering like a drunk whore but except, he was not. He leaned over to the side. He was falling. He saw a flash of the lightning and then it grew silent, it grew dark ...

I could sense that we were close. If we could just reach the Cape Cruce...

Everything was a blur, just like the fog on darker seas. The skies were black and stormy with thunders intruding the lashing rains. He could barely see. The crew ran through the chaos to steady the ship and to anchor. These were the last things he saw before it became dark all over again...

I watched from the shadows. He lay on the deck, others too busy. He was getting better, the weed from the sea...

Water parted ways from the ground with each step. He stepped on to the sandy beach. His each step seemed to rob all living creatures of their breath for a split second, reviving them with a living force, much stronger than before. He was the living force for his land. The life around seemed to welcome his presence. His faithful steed, more so.

His home beckoned. The son had returned...

The Run Through

As I mentioned in my previous post, I present to u a cut-snip, re-edited version of chronicles 1 and 2. Enjoy the read!

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It was a bright day and the daily chores had already begun. Being in the countryside you would wonder if life without so much chaos is even possible. In this calm little village lived a little kid – Shankar.

Shankar was playing by the gate in the courtyard. His amma (mom) brought him some breakfast. He quickly finished it and was ready for some more. This guy could definitely eat a lot! Amma went to the kitchen to get more.

Shankar was preoccupied with swinging on the gate. That was when he saw that his thatha (grandpa) had gotten ready to drop his cousins to the school. He always loved rides on the moped and, as usual, wanted to go along. Since it was already late, thatha decided otherwise. Even before Shankar could retaliate, they had left! Shankar decided that he had to follow them and began running behind the moped. Unfortunately for him, his tiny legs could not match the moped's speed. Even on village roads, the moped could wind its way on the narrow paths pretty fast!

Meanwhile - a herd of sheep and a bullock cart were directly ahead of him. The herd was being taken to a nearby field for grazing. Though Shankar never liked sheep, he was determined to follow the moped. He continued to run in the direction of the moped.

Soon he was completely surrounded by the sheep on either side and he did not like it one bit. The bullock cart was now right in front of him. Making matters worse, the sheep and the cart were both moving slowly. He had, just a second, to make a decision. He decided that the best way to cross to the other side was to go right under the cart and in between the two bulls! And he did exactly that! He ran between the two bulls! For a small guy he was quite a package.

He had finally managed to pass the hurdles that came in along his way. But now it dawned upon him that he was completely lost and the moped was nowhere to be seen! He tried to be brave but was almost in tears. He had forgotten his way back too. He continued walking in a direction which he thought thatha would have taken. He came across a flour mill, on the way, which had a set of huge noisy machines with equally noisy clients. The machines caught his attention. He had always been fascinated by machines. As he watched the machines operate, he momentarily forgot his dilemma!

Amma in the meantime came back with more food and called out Shankar’s name but to no avail. When Shankar never responded even after her calling out for five mins, she told about his absence to his aunt. Both of them began to search for shankar frantically inside the house. When they saw that the gate was open, they decided to check if he had run outside someplace.

A lady in the meantime saw Shankar watching the machines and she picked him up. She started walking away from the flour mill carrying him. Shankar was too confused and was not sure if he had to scream out loudly.

The roadside tea stall guy told amma and atte (aunt) that he had seen a small boy running behind a moped. Both of them immediately guessed that it must have been Shankar. They too set out in the direction as pointed out by the tea stall guy. They could see a lady chatting with someone carrying a kid with her. On reaching a bit closer, they saw that it was Shankar in her arms. Amma was overjoyed. She ran forward and hugged Shankar and kissed him.

Amma and atte learnt later that the lady was Shankar's ajji’s (grandma's) friend. She had recognised Shankar and was on her way to drop him back to his place.

The Trip

It had been quite a while since Shankar had gone on a long trip. Though the trip to the water pump would not be a long one, it was still better than having to spend the entire afternoon at home. The water pump was situated about a dozen miles away from the village and the only way to access it was to either walk down the narrow path or ride on a two-wheeler.

Shankar sat on the edge of the seat, both in anticipation of the ride and also that there was hardly any extra space on the moped anyway! A water pot, one of those new plastic ones that had hit the market recently, sat in front of him. Shankar's cousin had her arms around two more of the empty water pots. Grandpa sat between the two managing to keep the moped on the narrow path.

Shankar noticed that the queue in front of the government tap had grown. Women in the queue had their heads covered in saris to save themselves from the wrath of the sun and their kids were either playing in the mud or were chasing each other around despite the hot weather. As the moped passed the government tap, the village kids jumped about waving at the moped giving an impression to any random soul that the moped was off on a really important expedition! And an important expedition it was.

The narrow path wound in between the hills. There were temples on top of some of the hills. Shankar made a mental note to ask his cousins to take him to the top of some of the hills. He had been to the top of Basavana gudda, a famous hill temple in those parts, two months ago with his dad and cousins and he had enjoyed home made laddoos (a sweet) in the breeze. The very thought of the sweet made Shankar's mouth water. He suddenly found himself craving for some sweet but he didn't dare open his mouth since he was certain that his Grandpa would not be happy about them making a pitstop just moments after they'd left home. He soon forgot about his craving and began to enjoy the ride. Whenever the moped came across big potholes, Grandpa would slow the moped to a standstill and maneuver it around them.

The moped soon reached the water pump. The water pump was surrounded by trees. The entire place was deserted. Grandpa began to fill water in the water pot and asked Shankar's cousin to cover the pot with a lid once it had been filled. Shankar's cousin took the filled pot and placed it closer to the moped.

The pump was situated between a set of hills on either sides. Because of this unusual geography, it was constantly windy throughout. It was so windy that the lid on the water pot flew away. Shankar chased it down and put it back on its rightful place and then sat over the lid so that it wouldn't fly away again. As he watched his Grandpa and his cousin fill the remaining two pots, he was lost in thought. He had missed an opportunity to get his toy fan. The blades of the toy would rotate in the presence of a breeze. Shankar's mom had bought it for him in a fair during their visit to Mysore.

The moped left for home. This time the pace was even slower with the additional weights of the water pots. It took almost double the time to get back home.

Shankar noticed that the scene in front of the government tap had not changed. The queue, in fact, seemed to have grown a bit longer! He could almost notice the women in the queue eying the water pots on the moped! The moped reached the destination.

Shankar's mom was sitting by the door clearing away the bad seeds from the wheat. She put aside the wheat and came to the moped to help take the water pots inside the house. Shankar jumped from the moped and ran inside to eat some homemade sweet.

[Years later - beautiful, tall, calm wind mills were built over the hills surrounding the waterpump...]

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Dear Readers,

A writer's satisfaction lies in the reader's joy. :).

What do you feel about this short story? Holler back to me with your thoughts!

Cheers!
Suman

Prospect of an exciting trip

Water had always been a problem in the village. Because of the government guidelines, the local water-board authorities allowed water supply to each village in the taluk for only a couple of hours, that too two days a week. It was more of a routine chore for the people in the village to collect water (in vessels with different shapes and colours!) for the remaining days of the week. For the villagers, this was a way of life...

Though Shankar lived in a joint family, his grandpa usually took up this routine task. He would always go along with his grandpa and stand in the long queues in front of the government tap across the road. He loved the colourful sight! He would look at all the people standing in the queue in front of him and wonder as to why people braved the hot sun for a couple of buckets of water. At least he never had any problems in getting water. Whenever he wanted some, he'd just cry out loud and his mother would get him a nice cup of water, even buttermilk sometimes! He didn't like milk much though...

There was an hand-pump which tapped the underground water, but this was almost 10 Kms from the village. There were hardly any buses to get there and walking there in the burning sun was out of question. To get water from the hand-pump was an expensive proposition and was rarely used by the villagers.

It was the middle of the week. Even at noon, the market was bustling with activity. Shankar had come with his two elder cousins and grandpa to buy the vegetables for the coming week. There were vendors selling water and ice-gola (a type of ice candy which people of all age groups and especially kids relish!). Shankar wanted an ice gola at any cost and threw up a rant till his grandpa gave in. He was half way through eating it when he noticed that a it was melting away. He began to wonder as to how the drops were formed from solid ice. He stopped eating the gola and watched the rest of it melt away!

Shankar returned from the market. His mom told grandpa that there was hardly any water left at home and would not last more than a day. Even the govt supply could not be relied upon. There had been rumours going on in the village that the neighboring villages were receiving water only once in ten days.

Grandpa decided to get water all the way from the hand-pump. He took one of Shankar's cousins and was about to set out on the moped. Shankar loved moped rides and definitely did not want to miss this one. Grandpa was definitely not in a mood to tolerate more bad behaviour from Shankar, so he decided to take Shankar along.

Finally, they got going.