SILENCE, A MUG OF COFFEE AND PAST MEMORIES OF A KID

            While holding a cup of coffee, in a chill parky evening, thinking of some moments that vacillate in mind. That atrabilious evening hauls me to some dreary moments. Who I was and now who I am? While thinking of that small little kid. Those moments tow me to some past memories and I was lost in that jingles. I saw myself standing behind a little child doing appliqué in cross-country. Oh! Look at his sweat and this incalescence of sunshine. Moot started arising in my mind why this calor doesn’t affect him?  He moved towards his father at evening by finishing his work. I can see in his eyes the glimpse of tiredness. But why he was alone where are other siblings of that kid.  I even saw him coming back to school in such a sunny weather with torn shoes in his foot and no money in his pocket. 

        Ah! I stopped my pen and espy across a window. That was such a cold and foggy weather. Everything was such quite and calm. I sat on the rocking chair near inglenook, while closed my eyes and again get back to those misery memories. I saw that little kid now a bit grown up, who was a kind of sensitive and proficient boy. I saw him susceptible for his family. It would be rather better to called him a daring boy who got shot just to save his family members.

      I opened my eyes with fidget and found an epiphora on my cheeks. I saw across a window. Now it was quite dark and everything was ensconce with snow, it seems like nobody lives here, just a silence, me and memories of that boy.  I started thinking that, that was also a cold weather when he had been shot and admitted in hospital. Alas! I can feel that pain. Again, moot started arising in my mind how did he suffer that pain?  Did he love his family in such an extent that he can be hit for them? Is his life is nothing for him?

       Now he is a fine and dignified man, a charm in his personality. He is a complete person now, but why his eyes seem to be searched to love. His light brown round exhausted eyes has a fake impudent. His fair shiny skin with atrabilious eyes constrains a person just to watch him. He was on coercion to leave his house by his family members. No one listens him. He was mentally shattered. Why did his family do this with him? Why? Can’t they realize his sacrifices, his compromises, his pains for the family?

      I become fidget, distracted because I can feel the way the person being ignored, being annoyed, being rejected. I saw my empty mug and smiled sadly. Life is indeed like a mug of coffee. Sometimes full sometimes empty. After a few minutes I prepared another mug of coffee. It was now about 12 of midnight. After taking a sip of coffee, hold my pen and started writing on a diary and went back a couple of years back.

      He had only little money in his pocket and I saw him sitting in a road corner thinking about something, and after a few hours he was sitting for an interview. He was too small for all that jobs, but he did once again. He wasn’t onus on someone else throughout his whole life. He did all hard works, but then he came back for his family. Didn’t he give sacrifices? But why no one sees that he needs endearment? Why?

        Suddenly home goes dingily, I lightened candles and sat in front one of them. Flake of candle seems dancing in a darkling of night and enlightened the area, just like that boy who spreads his talent all along.

       The boy indeed fed up in the hands of lady. Isn’t his mother a lucky woman who kept him in her womb for about nine months? Man who has its own moral rules. Man who was taught to stay strong emotionally. A well-mannered, sophisticated, decent and a kind of mature man who has the ability to handle whatever the situation is! Now many people want to live a life-like him. He is indeed a daring and virility gentle man.

       At a meanwhile all the bulbs once again started glowing, and I felt a chilled breeze of that cold winter and took my shawl tightly thinking of those moments and smiled acrimonious with a tears in my eyes and prayers in my heart for him. I closed my diary and sat on a rocking chair in front of fire light having an image of that boy and sing some verses from one of my poem for him;

 

 

O’ boy listen!

To this dreary night,

Silence whispered in my ears,

You are laudably for success!

 

O’ boy listen!

My heart wished;

And silence whispered in my ears,

You are gonna be sunshine of tomorrow!

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Author:

♥♥♥ I'm just that simple girl who tries to be nice to everyone, who tries to understand everything, I'm unique and awkward at times, but I can be funny or anything else anyone wants me to be. That's who I am. :)

5 thoughts on “SILENCE, A MUG OF COFFEE AND PAST MEMORIES OF A KID

  1. You will be the sunshine of tomorrow – so much hope in those words. Can I impose enough to make a quick suggestion related to print size – I find the print on your blog a bit small for lengthy prose sections. It works OK for well spaced out poetry. Often, when I come to blogs with such small print and in an italics style to boot, I admit it – I don’t read through. That’s just me, though. Is it possible for you to increase the size of your print and maybe use more spacing? Please don’t take offence that I drop in to your blog for the first time and make a suggestion. I have a new policy about reading blogs – really read! I would like to read yours. Again, thanks for the beautiful poem at the end of your piece.

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