It was a clear sunny day. Like the old songs said, the grass was as green as you would want them, soft to our bare feet , the sky a brilliant shade of blue so pleasing to look at, speckled with fluffy white clouds. Little flowers grew here and there on the hill in varying shades. It was here that we made a banquet for ourselves with yet another lot of stolen food- A loaf of bread, a couple of oranges and that chocolate bar which had slipped off the hands of a little girl...
Life had taken a quirky turn when I met him. I gave up my dinner table with a spread that would never leave me unsatisfied. I gave up my wardrobe which would house any cloth that I chose point my fingers at. I gave up the softness of my bed and warm blanket. When I had to choose between all these and him, my heart whispered his name, and i was out in the wilderness with him.
I loved him a lot, but he loved me even more than that. Though I no longer had the luxuries of home ,I was still happy. In fact, more than happy. It was all an adventure for my 17 -year-old self. Everyday we walked on further. New places, new people... Sometimes we did small odd jobs for money.And other times we just stole the food we wanted. Some times we made a cozy little tent to sleep in. And at other times, we slept beneath the starry sky. We were happy,content, satisfied. We had each other.
This grand old tree down the hill is now bereft of its leaves. When a guard shood us away in the middle of our lunch that day on top of the hill for tresspasssing, it was under it's shade that we took shelter. We lay side by side in the aftrenoon sun holding hands. The little rays of sun peeked in through the lush green and yellow leaves , but they were soft, not disturbing our heavy eyelids.
He hummed an old folk song ,my favorite and I smiled, turning towards him. He was looking up at the sky, enjoying the picturisque beauty surrounding us. His eyes had their distinct twinkle. I could see those little black lines inside the brown iris. I could see the wind ruffling his hair and his smile. He put an arm around me and I felt good. Safe. I could now sleep blissfully.
Though a lot of things have changed here, the brook is still the same. It still sprays and froths. It rushes by in its hurry. The water is icy cold and fresh. It sped on over the jagged stones untamed by the brooks hurry.
He was looking at me when I opened my eyes from my sleep that day. He showed me the little mud path he'd spotted on the other side of the brook. We were off again.
The stones were sharp beneath my feet. I still hadn't gotten used to walking barefoot.I'd never realised how much slippers and shoes meant to the human kind.The water was knee deep and the bed was uneven. The stones showed no mercy at all. It was hard to walk across with the rushing water and the jabbing stones under my feet. I tried not to show it, but I kept slipping and sliding and he could see shades of red and purple on my feet. He came closer, held my hand and helped me walk. It was a relief to feel the sand and grass.
The mud path gave way to an old rickety bridge that swung lightly with the wind. There was a little village ahead on the other side. Dusk was setting in soon and the breeze turned chilly. Momentarily, goosebumps arose on my hands. He ran his hands on mine and hugged me tight. We stood on that old bridge like that for a while. Little orange dots in the distance showed us the village in the increasing darkness now. He wanted us to walk faster, before we were left stranded on the old bridge in the darkness.
He walked on ahead , gingerly, testing each step for me to take. I followed, holding his left hand, which he'd held out for me. I didnt realize what happened when suddenly he pushed me back. The bridge was shaking, and i was sitting on it, and I was holding on to thin air. It was completely dark now and i couldn't see him. I called out his name but all I could hear was my own voice echoing from the deep valley. Frantically , I tried feeling about for him in front of me, and my fingers felt cold as they traced a gaping hole right in front of me. He was gone.
I must have screamed out loud because some traders near the bridge's other end coming from the village rescued me. I never thanked them for their kindness. I was shouting out for him. But I knew it was in vain because I could hear them talking about how deep he must have fell....how he couldn't have lived... I screamed. I wanted him back. I couldn't live without him. My sweet traveller, my love, my all.
But I lived. He'd taught me to. And I went on to more places, met more people , learned the ways of the world. I'm not the innocent little 17-year-old anymore. I've changed. But he never changed inside me. So when the roads I chose brought me back here years after, I still feel him. The hill, the tree, the brook....they light up my memories- bring him closer to me. And tonight I sleep alone- beneath the old tree, wishing upon the stars above to show his smiling face in my dreams.
