In a heart touching intonation, a sweet voice articulated the cutest of names ever baptized, "Rosy", the voice yelled. And with that, a shrill yet loving bark shook the ambiance with its coarseness. I fidgeted upon my study seat, and then dwindling every single notion, I rushed into the verandah. And the glance of that large black and brown doberman satisfied my urge, and the look of that stout tiny lady calmed my inner being. But I overlooked the calmness and the peace of mind that the sight imparted to me.
I just scampered out of my house and picked up a thin round filth filled stick and threw it at Rosy, she jumped with alacrity and caught the stick into her jaws.
Soon then, the cute little aunt sauntered towards me and stood beside me . And anon the two of us gazed at Rosy. We felt a euphoric scent in the air as Rosy tossed the stick around and then bounced to grab it back. This was the time when a situation at proximity to goosebumps had harbingered. But then the next second Rosy dropped the stick and abruptly rushed towards me as though she was to bit me the very moment. I screeched and held the aunt's arm tightly. She shod Rosy away and patted upon my back and then swirled her fingers into my hair. Her touch was too much of motherly to me. The sense of motherhood for me lied somewhere beneath in her. I felt as though for a moment of being bestowed upon another Mom.
That evening was one of the most memorable evenings spent with that aunt. She was a big no one to me. But the attachment that the evening bought me, accounts to the most miraculous happening. An abrupt sense of resonance was created that emulsified a weird bonding between us. Her touch prickled a vital chord of my emotions and I felt the ever most blissful at the very time.
Then soon it was the time that we be departed. I bade a bye to the aunt and her dog, and then hastened to my study room to prepare for the key-stage- one annual evaluation. Soon it was late enough for my time to lay. I smacked my lips and strained my brain, but I comprehended nothing. I was thinking of the sudden attachment that had been created to that aunt. The way her touch felt warm to me. The way I felt like being patted by her once again.
There was an intimate filament of bondage that had been ushered between us. A bonding, I thought might be immortal. I then wondered that the way my neighbor used to live there for years and I never felt too much attached with the aunt. I stayed awake till a considerable strike of the clock, and then at the very last hoping to take a glance of the lady soon, I mesmerized into the world of fantasies where the three of us played with the sticks. The clock soon traveled its journey, but when it reached dawn, as though the cock didn't crow the very day.
I felt the most anguished moment. The mourn left me spell bound. I felt as thought the Sun shall never rise up again. The night which had just ended, had actually begun in my thoughts. I was sure that the filaments were too tight to be tugged up. But it was the Creator who tangled the threads and cut the minutest of its molecule. I was to end up thinking by the very minute.
The person with whom I had been attached miraculously, was lost within a wink. The most alarming condition ever had struck my heart. That aunt was no more to pat upon me, my heart was no more to be calmed by her sight. The aunt's soul had begun its pilgrimage, leaving the body aside.
I stubbornly asked my parents to permit me to, for the very last time, capture the endearing face of the dearest aunt. So in the very morning I along with my parents walked through the road where I used to play with that aunt. The each patch of the path where the aunt used to stand, paused my beats fora second. I was completely drenched in agony. The most afflicting heart ache had struck my health.
And finally, the view of the body of that aunt froze up my bone marrow. The nerve clenching sight had struck my retina. The aunt seemed the same. As if she laid with her eyelids shut. As though the next moment she shall stretch her arms and then shattering the sloth, would saunter towards me, and grasp my arms as she perpetually used to do. The first time had the 6 year old sighted a dead body. I was like completely menaced from within.
But then I knew that the time shall never rewind back. Never shall I ever be nudged by her again. The wrinkled spongy palms shall never warm my arms. My hair shall never be swirled upon by those tiny fingers. I knew that the the sight that used to calm my heart's urge shall never be summoned anymore.
The grief and despair were harsh enough to dry my tears. I wasn't even able to shed a single pearl off my eyes. I was as though completely lost into some other world. I had lost all my senses.
I monotonously kept gazing at the body of my beloved aunt, until my mother pleaded me to join my hands in prayer at the body of the lady. I did so and then I just hurried out of the grilled house where life had vaporized from the aunt's body . The sight of the body without soul was something that my eyes had experienced for the very first time. It left me shattered. The mourn in the aura was deceived by me just because I was already saturated with desolation.
Since then each moment used to force me to visualize the being of that aunt. I used to dream of the lady at every hour of the proceeding nights. I used to visualize the three of us playing together and the aunt flying off in the sky.
But the memories of the gala time, dwindled and faded away with my childhood. All the grievances were lighted upon with new colors of mirth. As the cycle moves on, life and death whirl in the channel of life. But still I miss that aunt's smile that had won over my heart, the superficial touch that used to lick my inner soul and the last click that my eye lids had captured of the aunt that once used to live.
The motto of this article lies in the deep truth of life, that attachments are not forcibly mend. They are created by the Gods in heaven. But at the same time detachments are too planned out by God.
"Its he who controls our meetings with people,
Its he who builds our life's steeple.
But the attachments too he does hew,
So the leaves detached from the branches must remember,
That it was always he who blew."
So with every shift of the Earth, there's something that we leave behind. Something that used to be dear to us. Something that used to enliven our days. But the wheel of time flickers every wick and it soon goes off. So the attachments that are made are to detach some day. So we shall amend our self with the time and remember to live every second accepting the new uptakings of life.
I just scampered out of my house and picked up a thin round filth filled stick and threw it at Rosy, she jumped with alacrity and caught the stick into her jaws.
Soon then, the cute little aunt sauntered towards me and stood beside me . And anon the two of us gazed at Rosy. We felt a euphoric scent in the air as Rosy tossed the stick around and then bounced to grab it back. This was the time when a situation at proximity to goosebumps had harbingered. But then the next second Rosy dropped the stick and abruptly rushed towards me as though she was to bit me the very moment. I screeched and held the aunt's arm tightly. She shod Rosy away and patted upon my back and then swirled her fingers into my hair. Her touch was too much of motherly to me. The sense of motherhood for me lied somewhere beneath in her. I felt as though for a moment of being bestowed upon another Mom.
That evening was one of the most memorable evenings spent with that aunt. She was a big no one to me. But the attachment that the evening bought me, accounts to the most miraculous happening. An abrupt sense of resonance was created that emulsified a weird bonding between us. Her touch prickled a vital chord of my emotions and I felt the ever most blissful at the very time.
Then soon it was the time that we be departed. I bade a bye to the aunt and her dog, and then hastened to my study room to prepare for the key-stage- one annual evaluation. Soon it was late enough for my time to lay. I smacked my lips and strained my brain, but I comprehended nothing. I was thinking of the sudden attachment that had been created to that aunt. The way her touch felt warm to me. The way I felt like being patted by her once again.
There was an intimate filament of bondage that had been ushered between us. A bonding, I thought might be immortal. I then wondered that the way my neighbor used to live there for years and I never felt too much attached with the aunt. I stayed awake till a considerable strike of the clock, and then at the very last hoping to take a glance of the lady soon, I mesmerized into the world of fantasies where the three of us played with the sticks. The clock soon traveled its journey, but when it reached dawn, as though the cock didn't crow the very day.
I felt the most anguished moment. The mourn left me spell bound. I felt as thought the Sun shall never rise up again. The night which had just ended, had actually begun in my thoughts. I was sure that the filaments were too tight to be tugged up. But it was the Creator who tangled the threads and cut the minutest of its molecule. I was to end up thinking by the very minute.
The person with whom I had been attached miraculously, was lost within a wink. The most alarming condition ever had struck my heart. That aunt was no more to pat upon me, my heart was no more to be calmed by her sight. The aunt's soul had begun its pilgrimage, leaving the body aside.
I stubbornly asked my parents to permit me to, for the very last time, capture the endearing face of the dearest aunt. So in the very morning I along with my parents walked through the road where I used to play with that aunt. The each patch of the path where the aunt used to stand, paused my beats fora second. I was completely drenched in agony. The most afflicting heart ache had struck my health.
And finally, the view of the body of that aunt froze up my bone marrow. The nerve clenching sight had struck my retina. The aunt seemed the same. As if she laid with her eyelids shut. As though the next moment she shall stretch her arms and then shattering the sloth, would saunter towards me, and grasp my arms as she perpetually used to do. The first time had the 6 year old sighted a dead body. I was like completely menaced from within.
But then I knew that the time shall never rewind back. Never shall I ever be nudged by her again. The wrinkled spongy palms shall never warm my arms. My hair shall never be swirled upon by those tiny fingers. I knew that the the sight that used to calm my heart's urge shall never be summoned anymore.
The grief and despair were harsh enough to dry my tears. I wasn't even able to shed a single pearl off my eyes. I was as though completely lost into some other world. I had lost all my senses.
I monotonously kept gazing at the body of my beloved aunt, until my mother pleaded me to join my hands in prayer at the body of the lady. I did so and then I just hurried out of the grilled house where life had vaporized from the aunt's body . The sight of the body without soul was something that my eyes had experienced for the very first time. It left me shattered. The mourn in the aura was deceived by me just because I was already saturated with desolation.
Since then each moment used to force me to visualize the being of that aunt. I used to dream of the lady at every hour of the proceeding nights. I used to visualize the three of us playing together and the aunt flying off in the sky.
But the memories of the gala time, dwindled and faded away with my childhood. All the grievances were lighted upon with new colors of mirth. As the cycle moves on, life and death whirl in the channel of life. But still I miss that aunt's smile that had won over my heart, the superficial touch that used to lick my inner soul and the last click that my eye lids had captured of the aunt that once used to live.
The motto of this article lies in the deep truth of life, that attachments are not forcibly mend. They are created by the Gods in heaven. But at the same time detachments are too planned out by God.
"Its he who controls our meetings with people,
Its he who builds our life's steeple.
But the attachments too he does hew,
So the leaves detached from the branches must remember,
That it was always he who blew."
So with every shift of the Earth, there's something that we leave behind. Something that used to be dear to us. Something that used to enliven our days. But the wheel of time flickers every wick and it soon goes off. So the attachments that are made are to detach some day. So we shall amend our self with the time and remember to live every second accepting the new uptakings of life.
The article has really touched my inner soul and has reminded me of numerous hands that have patted me at times throughout my life...
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