Monday, January 3, 2011

Winter memories

It was the perfect winter morning.

Silver mists flirted with a crimson sun. A purple tinge searing the white skies was a testimony to the fun they were having. Orange leaves rustled their goodbyes. Lifelessly they flitted to the foot of the tree. They crunched, and the tree winced invisibly. Silently watching as the leaf, which was once the reason for his very existence was ground into dust under the unknowing heel.

She could hear the crunch, and she could feel the pain. Yet, she could not stop herself from putting one foot before the other. Crunching, crushing, realizing. If only she could do that with memories too. Memories, which were faded and worn. If only she could grind them to dust as easily as the autumn leaves.

Memories which shackled her happiness. Like the green heavy moss on the barks of ancient oaks, they refused to let go. And she stood there, just as mute and just as heavy, letting the past creep on her. She was addicted to her past. A past which had almost killed her.


Another leaf ground to the dust.

Another moment gone. Another past created. Another memory born.

Are memories immortal?

Do they ever die?


More dust.

Her breath danced on clouds of vapor, as she continued walking. The warmth of life mixing with the cold of death creating a new moment… which vanished. She had to stop killing the future before it s time. She had to let hope reside. To live in the past, would mean to die. For one cannot survive in the cycle of that which has already happened.

So why did she keep returning to that moment of decision? To that fork where you could choose to live or choose to exist?

Her heel clicked against the cobblestone. She breathed a sigh of relief. The crunching leaves were beginning to torment her. This was a new path. Shining, gleaming, black. The winds warned her before they blew the mists away. Naked sunlight streaked through the clear skies and sizzled on her scars.

Another reminder that this was her second chance.

She ran a finger along her cheek, tracing the scar that ran along it. Twenty years had done naught to erase it. Nor had they managed to ease the pain of the memory of its birth. The scar had taken her parents away. The scar had left her alive.

Was the scar good or bad?

On the horizon she could see the fog kicking up again. A hazy line which blurred the golden edge of earth’s stolen kiss. An intruder. Unwelcome.

Her head dropped and she sighed. The swirls of her breath danced around her pink, glistening lips. An image flashed through her mind. Blood, hair, rugs and piece of glass sticking out of her cheek. The sun glinted off the glass and scattered a million colors on her bleeding cheek.

She shook her head to clear the memory.


She was back under the tree again.


Tele said...

She was back under the tree again.

She is back, under your spell of words. (i.e. Me) ;)

Chandrika Shubham said...

Very beautiful template. :)
Very touching story. :) Emotions are expressed so well.

Sweet memories are to be saved and the rest are to be left to be faded with time.

The Sage said...

the way you describe things is so complete,one need not even close his eyes to see what you are thinking!! amazing!!

Beauty and the BEast said...


Nice to see you after eternity! And thanks for that warm encouragement...Just tempts me to keep writing :)

Beauty and the BEast said...


But memories are the stickiest right? The most difficult to shake??!!

I am going to have to learn to lose some of them! ;)

Thank you for liking it

Beauty and the BEast said...

Mr Sage you tempted me into getting back on the comments page! Coming from you that is high praise indeed.... churning my mind even as I type to think of something wonderful to write :P

Rain Girl said...

wonderful.. and I could feel the crunching under my feet.. agree with The Sage totally!

Beauty and the BEast said...

Rain Girl,

You always leave a warmth behind I crave :*

Matangi Mawley said...

A BEAUTIFUL Narrative! The words were there- as though by mere accident- making the subtle juggling of the twists and turns of thoughts even more beautiful...

sometimes- it just happens. no effort involved... it just falls there- as though for you and you alone! this was such a moment... the words, i guess are extremely happy with your thoughts..that they chose to obey your thoughts! :)


Beauty and the BEast said...

OMG Matangi Mawley!! That comment left me speechless! For a moment, just one, you made me love myself to sheer bits!! Thanks a tonne for it!

Calvy said...

Search as she would, the memory was never lost. The gaping hole reflecting the dapple of subdued eloquence!


Saibal Barman said...

It's a wonderful piece that surely will inspire me to sweep through the pages in the next....
Human mind is an unique space where conflict finds more comfort in battling between the mirrored self--one endlessly endeavours to rule like a pure mother and the rest flawlessly fails to obey what she exactly wants like a mischievous child---and truce is never to be there for the life to survive...Moments never die, they simply turn into memories--good, or bad--but valiant as they bear the pride of the Time imperishable...I love those lines the most+++"On the horizon she could see the fog kicking up again. A hazy line which blurred the golden edge of earth’s stolen kiss. An intruder. Unwelcome."+++ that stings the perfect chord of what mind craves to listen to... ( )
All the best for the scars that let the life steer through without spoiling monotony of just goodness...