Whispers of a Life
A beautiful evening, the setting sun casts a warm glow over the hills. Lush green paddy fields brim with a rich harvest. Terraced valleys nurture the world's finest coffee beans. Lakes and rivers overflow with sweet, fresh water. Flowers and fruits bloom abundantly on the trees. Amidst the beauty of nature nestled a small village called Cocanad, where a lovely ancestral home lay. “Grandma, can you recite any tales?” asked a sweet little girl of five. Her beautiful green, doe-like eyes, filled with hope and excitement, instantly made the grandma answer affirmatively. The old lady looked around. Sitting in comfy chairs, her husband and sons were chatting at random. She peeped through the doors to watch her daughters-in-law laughing and gossiping while cooking. Out on the lawn, her grandchildren played with enthusiasm and vigor. With a contented smile, she began reciting a tale from her memory lane….
” Once upon a time, there lived a man and his wife with their children in a small, beautiful house in a village. They were a happy family. They held no desire for worldly wealth, lived simple lives, tended to their fields, doted on their children like any good parents, and tried to give them a good education. They shed sweat and tears to ensure a bright future for their kids.
Trees aged, flowers blossomed, and before they knew it, their children had grown into fine young men with great ambitions. They got married and moved away to lucrative foreign destinations in search of a better lifestyle, leaving their parents behind in the village. Initially, they telephoned daily, sharing updates about their lives—the arrival of babies, celebrations, and little joys. But gradually, the calls reduced to once a month… then once a year.
Years rolled by. The fields dried, the flowers and fruits withered. Every year, the old parents lovingly prepared delicious treats on their sons’ birthdays, hoping they would visit—alas, all in vain. The old man passed away, leaving his wife alone. Even then, their children did not come. The days slipped away. The old woman, lost in the depths of her loneliness, eventually became one with the silence.”
A sorrowful tapping on the lonely roof brought Grandma out of her wistful dreams. She looked around, hoping—desperately hoping—that what she had seen was real. But it was not to be. There were no signs of the happy family she had imagined. No little child cuddled in her lap. No husband, no sons, no daughters-in-law, no grandchildren. She was alone in the empty house, passing her days in melancholy and tears. She shed quiet tears and whispered to the Almighty, “My heavens… these mind-numbing daydreams—oh, what folly!” The old woman closed her eyes and slipped into eternal sleep.
Post by Sreenanda P.K ( XIC -2024-25 Batch)