The Petals Of Dire Straits.

Chapter 2: "The Rising Sun."

We ran across the fields, panting and shrieking with joy. "Try overtaking me, you little crybaby!" shrieked Udayan, and tried tampering with my ego, which had prevailed since an early age. I took a deep breath, and sped up, firmly deciding that I wouldn't be the one to lose. One last breath of hope.

I followed up faster than before, and almost reached him. Some wise old man had truly said, "there's no faith greater than the faith you have on yourself."
Four long steps, and I would've overtaken him. But bad luck is hard to overcome, and strikes at the wrong moment, just like a rain in the winter.
I fell. I fell hard, and I rolled over.
The sun hadn't risen yet, and home was still a long way. I could feel my scathed skin with my fingers, and was in intense agony. Udayan tried to cheer me up, but failed to do so. Nothing could stop me. I cried. Cried hard enough to scare the bulls to their feet, who were sleeping nearby.

I could hear the trampling of their hooves, and they were charging right in the direction where I lied, helpless. All I wished for was Udayan to help me out, and fainted.
When i woke up, I found myself in the old vineyard, with Udayan beside me. My cheeks were red and burning, and I realised why as soon as I gained consciousness. Stupid Udayan had been slapping me since the last half an hour, trying to wake me up. My scathed knee and arms felt better, and as I looked at them, I found them wrapped with pieces of cloth. Explained pretty well why both the arms of Udayan's shirt were missing.

As soon as he saw that I had regained consciousness, he gave me a tight hug, and kissed me on the cheek, and then gave me another slap. I saw tears well up in his eyes thereafter. He didn't have to explain his tears of joy in any way, because they were entirely visible in his eyes. Even though we were just kids, our hearts were so much connected, that words were not what we required to communicate, because the oneness of the eyes and the soul did all the talking we had to.

While these memories flashed in my head, I realised that Saraswati was right beside me, and thinking about what further happened in the future would surely make me, famous as the brave old hawk, weep right infront of his granddaughter, and I couldn't afford that, thinking about what Udayan had told me after that age old incident.

Saraswati stared at me in silence for a while, and then silently walked out of the room. Considering her age, I found this a little strange, and stood there for a moment, thinking about why she did so.
Finally, I decided to retire to my rocking chair. I sat, and began to clean the dust off my glasses. Truly, those childhood days had been very much better, considering our atmosphere as well.

The air had always been pure enough to breathe in, and beside almost each of the villages, you could sit by a river, untouched by the poison called the developing human race. While the cool breeze would brush against your face, you could feel the ecstasy by watching the tall grasses stretched out far and wide, dancing to the tunes of the happy winds. The sands of time have turned now, though.

Everything is just the opposite. You leave your house for a minute, and all you breathe in is the dusty and polluted air emmitted by vehicles and factories. The cool and serene waters of the rivers have been turned into poison. Worse than the rivers flowing between the pits of Tartarus. The serene winds don't blow anymore. And even if they do, it's always too late, as they carry with them, the dance of melancholy of the harvest, and the smell of fresh blood of the farmers who had to give everything up, owing to the sins we committed.

Saraswati suddenly blasted into the room with another photograph in hand. I could see that this was a bigger one.
She brought it close to my face, and I could see that it was the photograph from the last year of my school life. Nostalgia struck my mind when she pointed at Udayan in the photograph, and gently asked "daada, I've often seen you stare at this photograph, and cry at times but I never told you, because I know that you would feel sad, but don't worry! I know that hawks cry too and when they do, it always rains! The picture I saw today had a picture of this sire in the photo. Can you tell me about him, daada? It seems like he makes you sad and I want to fight him because I don't want him to make my hawk cry. Because when he does, it rains, and I can't go out to play too!"

Owing to the innocence of the young child, I couldn't help but smile.
Udayan had once told me the meaning of his name. It referred to "The rising Sun."
Whenever I had cried infront of him, he used to take the example of his name, and comfort me, saying that the rising sun had, and would always be with me, and I needn't worry.

Maybe I had to let my fears out now and open up to someone about what I had been through all these years. Although Saraswati was a child, the thoughts of letting her know about the menace her grandfather was, scared me somewhat. But I think I had to muster enough courage this time.

I picked Saraswati up, and placed her on my lap. "Okay little princess, daada shall tell you a story today. It is pretty long, and even though you are very young to completely understand it, it shall tell you something about life. Listen carefully."

My story begun, and so did the ringing voices and pictures in my head, that showed me the extravagant beauty of my brother Udayan beside me in the vineyard, while the first rays of the sun, rising behind the clouds gleamed in his lovely, tearful eyes.