Photo by Clever Visuals via Unsplash
A nest with a nestling, waiting for its mother.
Far away a mother bird cried, worrying about
A hungry chick, in the withering winter weather.
A long patio covered with garlic vines where my granny rested in a rocking chair is one of my strongest childhood memories.
I had constantly wondered why my granny selected those vines to decorate our patio of all the flowering climbers. She had told it was because of the lovely purple blooms, as blue shaded flowers were the rarest. I had believed that for quite some time.
As I grew up, I realized those plants resembled my granny in a way. She cherished me so much. She was the family I was closest to. She maintained the serene look befitting an angel and was an epitome of love. It was shocking to know she had beaten up her long-estranged husband, who left her for another when he tried taking away my little aunt.
I know why she had been growing garlic vines. It was a reminder.
Garlic vines are one of the most rewarding plants when left alone. They did emit the intolerably pungent garlic smell only when crushed.
Tiny, the apple of our eyes, went missing.
Pining for a lost puppy was laughed upon. A gone pet wasn’t a reasonable excuse to overlook my work on short notice either.
After managing to get a day off work, I and my son went on to search for our pet.
His pictures were pasted wherever possible.
Feet away from our home was a ghost forest. On hearing little cries we headed to where an old wrecked car was parked.
The front trunk was open. There laid a noble dog feeding her puppies along with Tiny.
Mother’s love is peace.
The riverside, echoing eerie stories, stood notorious for its paranormal activities.
The still waters that never reflect the starry night skies, the large mangrove trees which hide the haunted palace, the broken statue of a murdered prince which is heard making pleas for help in nights.
Sam and Jill brushed aside all these until they heard mysterious footsteps and disembodied screams the night they had arrived at the riverside.
I enjoyed the way my three-year-old girl, Disha, pointed her chubby fingers towards a painting placed in her pre-school. I have asked her which picture she liked the most.
It was a picture of a girl presenting a flower to a pooh bear.
“That’s an excellent picture!” I congratulated her selection.
She surprised me by pointing to another picture saying,“ No like, no like!”
I asked her why.
“The cow is eating flowers, Mama! No like!!”
My eyes scrutinized the painting. It was a donkey.
I knew correcting my kid was useless, as she thinks she created and named almost all animals and birds. Still, I tried, “That’s a donkey, not a cow, Disha! Look at its head.”
She swayed her head negatively.
A memory struck me.
My five-year-old self who believed all the eggs in our farm was laid by our bunny and the hens were the enemies who came to peck them. None of my family could convince me otherwise, for a long time.
I laughed at the way the genes work.
Our friend, Gary, paid us a visit after satisfactorily completing a mountaineering attempt.
Being an adventure loving couple, we paid attention to his every detail on hiking and camping.
Our six-year-old twins, a boy and a girl, fell absolutely silent on that day.
We seized upon the opportunity to devise a hiking plan for our anniversary.
The following day, both of us arrived home earlier. Shockingly, our bedrooms appeared messy. We assured robbery until we spotted the robbers.
Our twins with their two friends have constructed an absolute camp house in our bedroom using tissues, bed covers, and pillows.
Eight little feet were seen projecting out of their tent.
Four crime partners in deep slumber.
As an armed truck driver who rides ugly trucks, those vehicles breaking down occasionally at the loftier altitudes weren’t an unfamiliar experience.
When that happened at night on the cliff tops, Charlie felt solemn.
Staring up at the beautiful Milky Way, he would admire them sometimes and other times curse the fault in his stars for not allowing him to become a poet or even an incredible cook.
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