“I love you.”-he said; “I will take care of you, all you have to do is, get rid of this thing.”
“Thank you!”- She said to herself; “For making me realize what love is.” She gently stroke her belly. A smile curved her lips while she walked away and never looked back again.
The best part? She didn’t even thank him!
The day started as any other day. I got up early and got ready for work and left home around 9 in the morning. It was chilly outside, I hugged my jacket a little closer. The wind was blowing hard, making my hair to fall over my eyes and blur my vision. A squirrel hurried away with a peanut as I walked past it. A little boy in a red sweater was walking ahead of me. Suddenly he stopped, turned back and shouted “Didi.” A girl about two or three years older than the boy was walking just beside me. She started running towards the little boy. My eyes filled with tears with that little shout of the little boy, “Didi.” (In bengali didi means elder sister.)
I kept on walking and tried not to cry. A whole bunch of memories flashed inside my mind. They came like the ocean tides, one after another. Me and my little brother playing hide and seek in a small valley situated at the lap of mighty Himalayas. We used to play hide and seek outdoors. Once my brother was not able to find me for a long time. I kept myself hidden behind a bush of bamboo tree. It was late afternoon and the sun was about to set. I kept my eyes on my brother who anxiously looked for me. Suddenly he began to cry and said “Please leopard don’t take my didi. Didi where are you? I will never quarrel with you or hit you, please come back.” I came running from my hideout and hugged him and he began to cry even more. He said he thought that I have been taken by some Himalayan leopard.
I assured him nothing can take me away from him. We will always be together. I pacified him by plucking some oranges and giving them to him. We came back home and my brother told my parents how a leopard came to take me and only after he cried and said he needs his didi, the leopard left me. My brother said the leopard also had a elder sister, that’s why he understood my brother’s plea. My mom and dad tried hard to hide their chuckle and agreed with my brother.
Years passed on. We were teenagers then. He used to choose dresses for me. If he did not like something I wore, he would make sure that I change that. When outside house, he would behave as if he was my elder brother. “Didi, walk with me. This place is not safe,” he would say. He would always protect me like I am the younger one. The relationship between a brother and sister is one of the most wonderful relations that God has ever created. It is a based on unconditional love and faith. I spent an awesome childhood because I had my brother as a playmate.
Some more years rolled on, I am married now and stay far away from my little brother. And I miss him so much. Whenever I see brothers and sisters together I go back to the memories of me and my dear brother. It makes me happy and sad at the same time. Those are bittersweet memories because I love them but can not relive them.
In Response to WPC-SCALE
With all the hatred going on our world, I find peace and love reading Rabindranath.
Someday our world will be free from hatred. Peace be upon us.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Getting Seasonal.”
Holiday season is near. An eventful year is going to end and a brand new year is about to begin. The question is am I happy and exited for the celebrations?
Honestly, I am ready for the season of celebrations but I am not as exited and happy as before. When I was young any festival meant a lot to me. One of the major reason behind that was that we had holiday breaks during that time in our school. No homework,no waking up in the morning and playing all day long doubled the joy of holiday season. My favourite activity was to read story books during the holidays. I read those books so eagerly that my mom used to say that if I had read my textbooks with half of that enthusiasm I would have topped my board exams.
I was not allowed to read story books daily while semesters were going on. But in holidays I was free from that restriction. The second reason to be happy was that during this time we got new dresses. Shopping throughout the year was not common at that time, so we children always waited for this time of the year.
Holidays and celebrations meant all the relatives gathered together at a place and enjoyed the time. We have a large group of cousins and we had a lot of fun together.
But now holidays are not that much exiting anymore. Those large gatherings are now a matter of history. We grew up and scattered in different parts of the globe and all of us now do not have a common time and common place to meet.
When I was young and had so many restrictions I wanted to grow up quick but now that I grew up, I realize that there was a hell lot of fun then in spite of the restrictons. I was so busy to grow up and be free. But now that I am free I feel those days were best of my life.
The exitement and happiness that I had for the holidays during my childhood can not be compared to the present time. Nowadays it has became a routine but earlier it was a mystery that I eagerly waited for.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Recently Acquired.”
One month ago, I was not sure whether my thoughts were worth sharing. I wanted to write but there was always a question in my mind, “what will be the topic?” I thought the topic should be well enough to be written. I was so busy searching for a good plot, that I almost forgot writing. Then suddenly I saw a topic on Daily Prompt. It was plain and simple everyday topic. I started developing my ideas based on that. Since then I never looked back and no longer I spend sleepless nights in search of that perfect topic.
I now know that thoughts become alive not by writing about some perfect ethereal ideas. One can write about the daily simple things and turn it into a masterpiece. No, I have not written any masterpiece yet. But I have acquired the habit of writing daily about whatever I like.
In spite of chasing in my dreams for a perfect plot, I get inspired to write when I read other blogger’s posts. As long as I keep on reading, there will be always something that I can write about.