Doomed From The Start: A Marriage Agreement

chapter 18: A wistful memory of time

⬽J A A N V I⤘

Flashback:------

DECEMBER, 2008:

It was the winter of 2008, and the sun bathed the world in a warm, golden glow. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the landscape seemed to dance with life.

It was green, green everywhere. There were tall, towering trees that could stoop low enough to kiss the earth, luscious sprawling plantations bearing juicy summer fruits. Sturdy thickets of shrubs that were thick enough to envelop the entire expanse of the sky. Soft, cotton candy clouds floated like balls of fluff in the vast orange horizon. Stretching fields and fields of unripe wheat crops, sometimes corn, and very rarely, barley. Cold Northern winds, with a breath as icy as the fog that swept away the warmth of the day, leaving behind echoes of tales and stories from distant, uncharted hills. Tall, growing stacks of hay piled high enough to touch the heavens. The uneven patches of grass left by the moving, grazing cattle. Cows and goats frolicking in the chilly hillside weather, and the perennial rains arriving constantly throughout the year, drenching the earthy soil, breathing life.

It all unfolded like a painter's dream, with lush green hills rolling down the picturesque landscape, and beautiful evergreen vegetation that seemed to completely encircle the moss-covered paradise-a masterpiece... of nature's handiwork.

It was one such rainy day. I was running across the fields of ripening crops. It was the month of December, so barley plants were sown in the land. The essential winter crop was in various stages of growth, some already dotted with telltale green flowers, while the rest were still saplings freshly emerged from their seeds.
Our small, tiny cottage that nestled between two adjacent fields was built directly under a huge banyan tree that seemed to stand guard over the tiny man-built shack. The sound of clacking pots and pans indicated Grandma's presence in the kitchen, bringing a happy smile to my face.

A robust wind blew from the south, making my skirt swish and sway in the air. I was laughing wildly as I pushed my hair off my eyes and twirled to the sound of bees buzzing around the flowers. There was a tangible chill in the air that gave away the impending arrival of an approaching rainfall. The smell of rain-soaked soil tickled my nostrils as I inhaled the fragrance deep into my lungs. It was the time of evening, and the sun was setting behind the hills, with grey clouds already gathering in the sky.

Suddenly, a gust of raindrops started to fall, splashing me with a torrent of water droplets that soaked into my hair. As more clouds started to pelt the earth, I squealed, turning on my heel and started running back toward the cottage, shrinking back as the rain chased me away from the vast open field.

I sprinted as fast as my little legs could carry me, but the rain was relentless, and it drenched me from head to toe. Gasping for breath, I reached the warm shelter of the tarpaulin shed that clung to the side of our tiny cottage. My clothes and hair dripped water onto the ground as I trembled in the cold. I huddled there, shivering from the chill of the cold rain and felt a sneeze creeping up my throat.

The fog had completely enveloped the field, making it hard for the eye to make out any shape beyond the mist. The evening breeze kissed my skin with an icy coldness that made another shiver skitter down my spine. Goosebumps erupted across my arms as I hugged myself tightly, shrinking away from the cold touches of the rain. Through the mist, I could still make out a few coconut trees swaying in the fading daylight.

A sense of disappointment welled up within me as I recalled the sandcastles which I had built in the afternoon, now washed away by the sweltering rain. It had taken me nearly two hours to build an entire sand kingdom complete with the cities and houses, and all of that was gone now because of the rain. The image of my destroyed sandcastles made my childish heart tear up. Angry tears rolled down my eyes and wet my cheeks as my eight-year-old self seethed in the unfairness of the rain god.