“Grandpa tell me a story.....its been so long since i heard a story......”,Adriana asked Sean. “Well, Adriana....i think you have heard all the stories i know of.......I could tell you of my childhood if you want to hear it......but it will be boring i guess.....”,replied Sean. “Don’t worry grandpa.....try me.....”,countered Adriana. “Okay then lad....this.....is my story”......
.....................................................................
I was born high up on the mountains.....in the village of Ochsenberg, high up in the Alps......much higher than where we are right now. My mother kept our small cottage in order while my father was a cheese-maker. You could say that those were the times when the world was still fresh. You could smell the beauty of the earth as god had created it. I only wish you could have seen it as it were then....Adriana. Those were the days my lad, with nothing to do but just live life the way it should be lived. When the sun rose up between the mountains, all the light glistened with the snow and ice on the peaks, like a giant flame. It was the best sight of the world...to wake up and see the heavenly beauty.
I used to occasionally accompany the village goat-herd Johanne on his trek with his goats to the pastures high up in the mountains. The grass was truly greener up the slope. Those treks showed me the beauty of the world....the snow-capped peaks in the distance above you and the distant earth below you. The goats gave the milk for my father’s cheese business. It was a family business for many generations; making cheese was an art and most of the villages in the Swiss alps depended on the precious resource. Honestly i found Johanne’s job better than my father’s. Johanne could travel anywhere along the Alps, see nature in all her glory. But then again my father would have boxed my ear if i became one; cheese-making was the family tradition not goatherding.
Spring was the best time of the year; relief after a cold and dark winter. The thrill of warming yourself against the warm gaze of the sun in the still cool air was exquisite. Its when the flowers in the hidden valleys bloom. The daffodils, the roses and the orchids bloomed in fields full o them....some pretty flowers can only be found on higher slopes; sometimes high up in crevasses on the cliff you can see a rare beauty. On one of my treks i had stumbled on the ‘valley of flowers’, thats what i called it....after a heavy trek up the mountain with pretty much nothing to look at, it was a delight to see expanses of red, blue and green below you. The flowers there bloomed only for a few weeks in the year; they bloom sometime during the middle of spring, when all the snow has been melted away.
..........................................
The ‘Valley of Flowers’ is an important place to me lad.....Sean said with a bit of moisture in his eyes.
“Grandpa, I think i remember grandma telling something about that valley..”,said Adriana.
“Well she would now, wouldn’t she.....thats where I asked for her hand in marriage......”
..............................................
Your grandma was the daughter of the village alderman; he was the head of the village council. So it took a lot of time for me to get the courage to even talk to her. In your language you could say that we went on ‘dates’. But anyway one thing led to another and one fine day i decided i wanted to marry her. I came up with a good plan, invite her for a trek up on the mountains. She hadn’t seen as much of the mountains as i had and few people in Switzerland knew of the valley; it was a sort of secret kind of thing. So after many hours of trekking, when we finally reached the valley, your grandmother was spell-bound, the flowers were beautiful. Quite the right time to ask the question; when the mind isn’t thinking. She said ‘Yes’ and so we were married that very spring; didn’t take much time convincing the parents. We moved to a cottage midway between her parents and mine; so that we are impartial. It was a good time. Nothing to worry about; we loved each other and that was all that mattered. That’s difficult nowadays with so many things to do. My life was a simple life. I made good old Swiss cheese; the best ones this side of the Alps. I expanded my business, made more cheese, exported some too; the world loved our cheese, but at the heart of hearts i was still more of a goat-herd than a cheese-maker. Life was indeed beautiful. Your grandmother and I used to go hiking a lot; we both loved the mountains. We have together scaled some of the biggest mountains of the Alps; we scaled the Stockhorn on our honeymoon. The view from the top of some of those mountains were beyond words, makes you feel very humble, humans are really inconsequential beings.....
..........................................
Sean noticed that his grand-daughter had fallen asleep. He kissed her forehead and tucked her into bed. “Goodnight dear....”, he whispered.
............................................
Sean walked to his balcony and looked up at the moon, whispering, “Oh Elena.... you made my life whole........ the fun times we had........I wish i could join you sooner........”.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
....LOVE.......
Prologue
Life sometimes is a bad dream; a bad dream from which one tries to come out off. The world had fallen apart for her that day. Jaya had frozen stiff when she picked up the phone. She had not wept a single tear. Her lovely blue eyes lost its lively nature; there was no sparkle; her beautiful face became unworldly pale as if all life had been drained from it. Her thoughts wandered like the eagle, drifting, gliding freely and aimlessly.
5 years ago:
The local trains of Mumbai are notorious; a train stops for a couple of seconds at each station. They are grossly inadequate for the millions that use them every day. AT every station, the rush to get onto the train overwhelms everyone. People are pushed in and pushed out regardless of whether they wanted to or not. There was no automatic system of stopping the train in case someone trips. Generally people do not consider the risk. And neither did Jaya. She was late for work. It was her first job, and it had only been a month since she started working. She had run to clamber onto the first class compartment; the first-class pass came as a perk with the job.
She was 6 feet away from the train when it had started moving. She ran and just when the handle was inches from her hand, she tripped; saris weren’t much help while running. She suddenly noticed the gap between the train and the platform; she had never noticed it before. She was hurtling towards the gap; she was going to be just another of the daily causalities of Mumbai’s locals. She felt someone grab her hand pull her in. There are times when the world stands still; that moment was one of those times. Their eyes locked; they gazed into each other’s eyes. They say that when one looks into another’s eyes deeply enough they can see the other’s soul. Both of them felt a tremendous power when they gazed into each other’s eyes; it was as if two halves of a medallion had been joined.
For some reason, Jaya felt secure in his arms. Sri felt some strange connection with this young girl; he was never the type that ran behind girls. He was very studious and athletic in school and college. He had been captain of the football team in school and college. Though girls had fallen for him, he had never fallen for anyone. He had even though that in a country with around 50 crore women there wouldn’t be a single woman whom he could love. But that was before he looked into her eyes.
Jaya broke the gaze first and thanked him. They introduced themselves exchanged numbers and addresses. And of course things became serious. He liked the sheer youthful life in her eyes and face. She liked his nature; he had always helped people without a care; people like that are hard to come by in India. He was the only one she had met with both the fire of ambition and the cool breeze of an altruistic kindness. Both their careers blossomed along with their romance. There was nothing that one of them didn’t know about the other. They supported, understood and more importantly loved each other. It was a love of a pure and untainted kind.
Jaya’s thoughts shifted to a night, 2 years ago......
She had come home alone that night; a note was left by Sri. It had said, “Come to Leopold’s Restaurant at Murud Beach at 8. Something has happened. I have to tell you...” She had rushed to Murud beach and entered the Restaurant. There were only a few people in the restaurant. There were only a few people in the restaurant. Suddenly out came a small band, singing “Happy Birthday to you” and, then came Sri with a red rose in his hand. She had forgotten that it was her birthday. It was a scene straight from the sets of Hollywood. After the merry-making, they decided on a late night walk on the deserted beach. She was surprised when Sri knelt on one foot and from seemingly nowhere produced a ring........
“Jaya, you know that I’m the one for you. Marry me....” he whispered.....
They made soft love that night; it was a night to remember. They got married three months later in a small private affair; their families weren’t big. It was nothing likes the traditional “Big Fat Indian Wedding”, on the contrary the solemness resembled a funeral; they had always wanted a very quiet and peaceful wedding.
Present Time...
Sri had gone to work as usual. She didn’t go to work as she wasn’t feeling well that day. Sri had told her that he would be late that night; he had work to finish in the office. He wanted to move to a better apartment, and had been working harder for it. At 8 pm Jaya’s doctor had called to tell her that she was pregnant. The doctor was a personal friend so she didn’t want to delay the good news. The 26th of November would have been one of the happiest days of Jaya’s life. She tried Sri's phone but the recorded message saying “Phone out of network coverage” came everytime she tried. She relented, thinking Sri would be home in an hour or two. The hours form 8 pm till 10 pm were one of the happiest moments of Jaya’s life. AN exepectant mother is happy in a heavenly way. Her face radiated the happiness; till she switched on the news. “Gunfire at CST” ran the headlines. She felt a shudder up her spine; Sri takes the train from CST.
She frantically dialled his number. The good news was it was ringing. The bad news was that there was no answer. She tried every 10 minutes till 12 pm. Then suddenly, just after her last try, someone called back. The display on her mobile phone read- “SRI”. She picked up the phone and started talking, “Sri, tum kahan ho, tum kab aaoogay?? Why didn’t you answer my calls?” There was no answer from the other side, and then a choked voice.....
“Jaya...I am sorry Jaya...There were terrorists..... A child was shot.........I tried to save him.....they shot me too......Forgive me....I am bleeding......I wanted to hear your voice before I leave........”
“Sri....sri....nothing will happen to you....Sriiiiiiiiiiiiii....”
Life sometimes is a bad dream; a bad dream from which one tries to come out off. The world had fallen apart for her that day. Jaya had frozen stiff when she picked up the phone. She had not wept a single tear. Her lovely blue eyes lost its lively nature; there was no sparkle; her beautiful face became unworldly pale as if all life had been drained from it. Her thoughts wandered like the eagle, drifting, gliding freely and aimlessly.
5 years ago:
The local trains of Mumbai are notorious; a train stops for a couple of seconds at each station. They are grossly inadequate for the millions that use them every day. AT every station, the rush to get onto the train overwhelms everyone. People are pushed in and pushed out regardless of whether they wanted to or not. There was no automatic system of stopping the train in case someone trips. Generally people do not consider the risk. And neither did Jaya. She was late for work. It was her first job, and it had only been a month since she started working. She had run to clamber onto the first class compartment; the first-class pass came as a perk with the job.
She was 6 feet away from the train when it had started moving. She ran and just when the handle was inches from her hand, she tripped; saris weren’t much help while running. She suddenly noticed the gap between the train and the platform; she had never noticed it before. She was hurtling towards the gap; she was going to be just another of the daily causalities of Mumbai’s locals. She felt someone grab her hand pull her in. There are times when the world stands still; that moment was one of those times. Their eyes locked; they gazed into each other’s eyes. They say that when one looks into another’s eyes deeply enough they can see the other’s soul. Both of them felt a tremendous power when they gazed into each other’s eyes; it was as if two halves of a medallion had been joined.
For some reason, Jaya felt secure in his arms. Sri felt some strange connection with this young girl; he was never the type that ran behind girls. He was very studious and athletic in school and college. He had been captain of the football team in school and college. Though girls had fallen for him, he had never fallen for anyone. He had even though that in a country with around 50 crore women there wouldn’t be a single woman whom he could love. But that was before he looked into her eyes.
Jaya broke the gaze first and thanked him. They introduced themselves exchanged numbers and addresses. And of course things became serious. He liked the sheer youthful life in her eyes and face. She liked his nature; he had always helped people without a care; people like that are hard to come by in India. He was the only one she had met with both the fire of ambition and the cool breeze of an altruistic kindness. Both their careers blossomed along with their romance. There was nothing that one of them didn’t know about the other. They supported, understood and more importantly loved each other. It was a love of a pure and untainted kind.
Jaya’s thoughts shifted to a night, 2 years ago......
She had come home alone that night; a note was left by Sri. It had said, “Come to Leopold’s Restaurant at Murud Beach at 8. Something has happened. I have to tell you...” She had rushed to Murud beach and entered the Restaurant. There were only a few people in the restaurant. There were only a few people in the restaurant. Suddenly out came a small band, singing “Happy Birthday to you” and, then came Sri with a red rose in his hand. She had forgotten that it was her birthday. It was a scene straight from the sets of Hollywood. After the merry-making, they decided on a late night walk on the deserted beach. She was surprised when Sri knelt on one foot and from seemingly nowhere produced a ring........
“Jaya, you know that I’m the one for you. Marry me....” he whispered.....
They made soft love that night; it was a night to remember. They got married three months later in a small private affair; their families weren’t big. It was nothing likes the traditional “Big Fat Indian Wedding”, on the contrary the solemness resembled a funeral; they had always wanted a very quiet and peaceful wedding.
Present Time...
Sri had gone to work as usual. She didn’t go to work as she wasn’t feeling well that day. Sri had told her that he would be late that night; he had work to finish in the office. He wanted to move to a better apartment, and had been working harder for it. At 8 pm Jaya’s doctor had called to tell her that she was pregnant. The doctor was a personal friend so she didn’t want to delay the good news. The 26th of November would have been one of the happiest days of Jaya’s life. She tried Sri's phone but the recorded message saying “Phone out of network coverage” came everytime she tried. She relented, thinking Sri would be home in an hour or two. The hours form 8 pm till 10 pm were one of the happiest moments of Jaya’s life. AN exepectant mother is happy in a heavenly way. Her face radiated the happiness; till she switched on the news. “Gunfire at CST” ran the headlines. She felt a shudder up her spine; Sri takes the train from CST.
She frantically dialled his number. The good news was it was ringing. The bad news was that there was no answer. She tried every 10 minutes till 12 pm. Then suddenly, just after her last try, someone called back. The display on her mobile phone read- “SRI”. She picked up the phone and started talking, “Sri, tum kahan ho, tum kab aaoogay?? Why didn’t you answer my calls?” There was no answer from the other side, and then a choked voice.....
“Jaya...I am sorry Jaya...There were terrorists..... A child was shot.........I tried to save him.....they shot me too......Forgive me....I am bleeding......I wanted to hear your voice before I leave........”
“Sri....sri....nothing will happen to you....Sriiiiiiiiiiiiii....”
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