The Mythical Mornings

Krishn

"Your eyes pitch black,as if they hide countless secrets in them. As if you hide something and never wish to show..So your name would be Krishn.."the person naming the child smiled and said..

The child turned around looking at him,with his pitch black eyes. But the person naming him went blank. It was as if the dark eyes were looking right through him. He was actually seeing himself in those eyes. He took a step backward. But next second he saw the child had never turned towards him.

"What a strange happening"he muttered and walked away. The child smiled a little..

A new age was starting. He gulped looking into the mirror. The darker his eyes were,the scarier things were for him.

At times he missed his silver eyes. Eyes,bright yet blind. Still it was for good. But sometimes being blind was not helping.

"Krishn..Stop right there"he heard the shout of someone and stopped. Turning around,it was the land lady.

"Yes Mother. What can I do for you?"good boy asked. But his hand was trembling slightly behind his back. A strange creature was eating up the flesh of his hand. But she could not see it. And he dared not move.

"Go and take the cows to graze. And remember boy. If one cow gives less milk,then you know the consequences"she said and walked away.

He smiled and walked away,towards the shed. And removed the cows from the binding. And walked away, towards the green patches ahead.

As the music of flute floated around,he gently shook his hands twice. And the creature was gone. The good boy smiled at it and walked away.

He leaned on the tree,old and dense and fell asleep. But music was still floating. Cows were grazing.

One cow,black walked towards him,and stood infront of him. In her eyes he saw love. Unconditional,the love a mother has for her child.

Krishn had to wake up. He looked at the cow with a pout.

"Mother. You will get me punished."he said with a smile and became a calf.

As she showered her love on the little white calf,and fed him. Krishn slept in her embrace,warm and cosy.

May be in long time he had slept that much. He was peaceful. What he cherished was that moment. That moment he would never get back again.

Evening came and he walked back. Towards the shed. And the old man who lived with him in the small cottage started milking the cows. Of course the black cow gave lot lesser milk. And all he could do was shake his head at the child and the cow.

And walked towards the owner. Of course he could not add water to the milk. It was not applicable.

And a day passed.

Little Krishn was growing up,in a strange place. He was a strange kid who had come to that village. A night,when it rained in torrents,he had stumbled into the village. He had fainted outside the home of someone. A small child.

The old man had picked him up. But Krishn could only utter his name. Krishn. Nothing else. A small child.

Life was changing rapidly. The old man' s life came to an end. And the young child walked away from the village. To find his destiny. What waited for him was endless journey.