By Mehak Priyadarshi, Class 9, Jai Shree Periwal Global School, Jagatpura, Jaipur
The birds are chirping again. The once jam packed streets have taken an oath of silence. The leaves of the tree swirl and dance. The view looks as if taken from the line of an exquisite poem.
The breeze carries a sense of calmness. I feel guilty as a sudden joy erupts in my heart.
How can I?
After all that had happened....
My doubts start diminishing with the splatter of the rain. The drops of nectar touch my palm, removing the signs of gloom from my mind
Maybe, they are right.
Doomsday has its own benefit.
Ma Bhumi (nature) has finally reclaimed what was once hers, what had been stolen from her.
This joy in my heart feels like a rock, happiness right now is a curse. The momentary elation is chased into non- existence.
I am forced to remember the lives which are buried under the soil I walk on. The faces which will never gaze at the sky like I do today, complementing the beauty of life that is to me a harsh reminder of the past that led to it.
There is no noise to be heard now, even the raindrops lay still; just music created by the solemn messengers of nature.
I glance at the pond; the water is clear reflecting the dying rays of the sun. A lotus in the middle grabs my attention . I throw a stone on the clear surface of the water creating ripples of waves in which reflects the faces of my family, diminishing with the darkness of the advancing night. Today, the stars are bright. I spot an Orion, his bow pointing at me menacingly. I glare at him; I want him to be gone. I have had enough of weapons, of hunting, of prying of human flesh, of death. The war had ended with huge casualties. Three fourth of the world’s population was wiped out by a war fueled by hatred, ignorance and arrogance. Everything was gone. We hadn’t stood a chance. Two years have gone by since; and time has been working a balm of magic on my crushed soul.
The times I have cherished with my family, are played again and again in my mind like a ceaseless tape; which gives me nothing but excruciating sorrow and agony. But once in a while, it brings a latent smile which I keep to myself, safe from the world. I rub my eyes and stifle a yawn. I hum a meek tune of a song I had not sung in years. I hear the sound of a bansuri being played in the distance. Tears which had long been trapped inside, now rush to their freedom. I glance in the direction of the flute player; I cannot see his face. The only thing distinguishable is his bansuri; and the soft music that erupts from it. The music now slowly fades, like the rainbow does from the sky, …. like the guilt does from my heart.