Growing in the Mist

A lonely tree stood in the middle of the field, a blanket of mist behind it. It stood twisted, silhouetted against the blanket of cloud behind. This tree has a history. It never broke.

Kamini had always looked up at the tree, wondering how the tree had got twisted. As if an invisible hand turned it several times by its top and held it there eternally. Her life had got twisted in the same way, but she hoped life wasn't as adamant as the tree. She had both feared and hated the tree, until she had her first child.

Little Sohail seemed to like to play around the tree quite a lot. There was nothing else to play with around anyways. The little boy grew up and had began his education, but he was always attached to the tree.

The father had made a swing for him on the tree, and Sohail would spend most of his time swinging. But one day the branch that had bent down by the weight of the boy suddenly pulled up, and the boy, caught among the ropes, was pulled up too. The rope coiled around his neck and broke his windpipe. That was how his life ended.

But the ailing mother, several months later, saw her child still hanging from the tree. He looked at her, called out to her in a choked whisper, "Please break this branch and pull me down. I can't breathe.." And with unusual vigour she climbed the tree and tried her best, but it would not break. She did not speak to her husband about it that night though.

The next day again, she saw her boy, but he could not be pulled down. The tree would not break.

It has been twenty years now. Sohail was a good looking young man with curly hair and a strong build. But he was still attached to the tree!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Stain

Image
It's been a long time since we had this purple stain on the kitchen floor. "It's print on the tile," some say, though it is not present on any other similar tile, while others say it's some kind of a dye. Whatever it is, what is concerning us more is that the stain seems to be growing. Ever so slowly. My wife and I, we've tried everything we could to get rid of it, or at least learn about it, but to no avail. We even consulted painters and masons, but they couldn't give a reasonable explanation. As of now, we've decided to leave it alone. Ignoring it seems to have slowed it down. By now it's gotten to about the size of a coaster, and the colour has changed from purple to deep brown. But as I said, we're ignoring it. Just the last evening a friend of mine came for dinner, and the topic of the stain somehow came up. He seemed to have an absurdly different opinion about it. Very reasonably, and deductively, he stated that since it is g...
Read more

The Hunting

Image
Neil and I had met after a long time. Almost eight years. But he looked all the same, except for the stubble that he had grown. We happened to meet on a warm Sunday morning on the path along the forest during my morning-walk. And like old times (whenever we did something together, it was never something normal) we decide to walk into the forest instead of along it. About half an hour later we were deep inside the forest and had no idea where we were. And nor did we care. We were busy talking and catching up with each other's life. But a sudden rustle nearby brought us back to the present. It was unlikely that it was somebody. Nobody came into these woods. It was 'something'! We waited motionlessly to listen. There it was again. Definitely footsteps, but of what? Silently we moved in the direction of the sound, gathering all our courage. We walked into a clearing. The next time we heard the sound, it was closer. I picked up a pebble and threw it in the direction of the s...
Read more

Leeches

Image
This village has something weird about it. All the people in it stay indoors in the evening, no matter what. It made me very curious. I had reached in the dusk just to find that even my host was hesitant to open his door to me. I asked him, but he just deferred the topic saying that the time was too dangerous to talk about it. By the time I had my sumptuous meal, I was dead tired. It was a long journey I had made. But as soon as I was getting ready to sleep, I was reminded of the behaviour of the village in the evening, and curiosity got the better of me. I walked out into the living room to meet my friend. I found him seated beside the fireplace, stoking the fire. "Welcome, my friend, I was just beginning to think when you're going to ask me again," he said, clearly knowing why I had come. "It is the story of just a few months back. The highway as you know connects two large cities. A lot of vehicles ply over it throughout the day. One day, some men fishing in th...
Read more