Was it as cold as I remember? Crystals of ice with a sheen on them coating the pale green trees with unending love. The snow flakes were dancing ballet, jumping high and low from the sky to the land. I wanted to step on them making a deep print of my foot but frightened at the same time to break those little crystals and frightened to hear the sound of them- breaking, as I step on. As I step out of the door, many things steal my glance to them. I grow curious thinking what to notice, whom to adore, shall I admire them or destroy? These transient thoughts flew away with the zephyr blowing from everywhere to everywhere. Now, I see people playing with their loves, children, parents or themselves in the snow. It was so cold for me to play outside. The warmth of our home loved me more than the snow or the zephyr. They were rude. Rude because they don't love me. Rude because they always leave me broken and my heart filled with misery. This remained a question forever. Why was all this beauty a misery? This was a question, not an answer.
"Amy, my child you're awake!"
Her voice startled me.
"You should've woke me up hun. Come, have some tea with me. Close the door sweety its really cold outside. "
I came and sat beside her. Daddy was fixing a switchboard. He has a holiday today. Its been so long he has spent any time with us. Today he is home.
And so, muma is sweet. Her voice is sweet like the golden drops falling from a honeycomb. I other days she is like a snow leopard groaning at its prey. And the opposite happens only when daddy's home. Eva says she's not my mum. My mum died when I was two. But when I ask daddy he says " Eva's teasing you sweety".
And I believe dad more. But sometimes it makes me wonder the reality.
My dad is a farmer with little lands. We live in the outskirts of the city. I wonder maybe that is the reason nobody at school liked me. Only Eva does. But I don't like her as she keeps on telling me that muma isn't my real mother. Many a times I had pulled her hair for the same. But even after all these cat fights she reaches to me.
Mum works in a lady's house. She is fat and heavy. And as everyone including Eva says - she is rich.
My mind is filled with questions when I think she is rich.
Rich in what? Rich in blood? Muscles? Or maybe she has a lot of toys.
Eva says- she has money. I have seen money. It's a grey and white paper with numbers written over it. Does owing a lot of those papers make you rich? I cut a lot of papers, coloured them in grey and wrote numbers. I was very happy. Now, we won't be poor anymore. We have a lot of money. When I gave my money to dad, his eyes were tender and soft. He smiled and said "These paper cannot replace money, sweety." The whole time I kept on thinking why can't they? Is it because my colouring is not good? I decided to ask Eva to make some money for me. She has a good handwriting.
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So here the first chapter comes to its ending. Hope it made you adore it. Please leave your valuable vote & feedback. Thank you for reading!
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Ephemeral Lilacs
General Fiction" I love simple things dipped in love. Like the crimson violet lilacs that grow near the temple lake with threads of green algae knotted together with love. With a shade of orange falling from the aspen leaves when touched by sunlight "
