On a lazy rainy morning,as I was sitting with a cup of coffee,enjoying the beautiful greens from my window,i heard a bell ringing,from a far away place,it seemed. Its been only a week since I moved in to this heavenly abode. Its not an ad of any resort,but a house I have been yearning to own since I was a little girl. By owning it, I don't mean to have bought it with my money,it is yet another advantage of being a daughter of a filthy rich father. All of my monetary wishes are granted and dreams are turned to reality...its a compensation to the time he cant spend with us. By 'us' I mean my elder sis and myself.
I have been dreaming to live here since my childhood. Its been part of my fairy tales. My grandma was very fond of reading and had a huge collection of books. We sisters used to wait for the schools to shut for vacations,that is when we could be with her. She was a storyteller. And no matter what, my mind always imagined all the stories taking place here...it was a beautiful tile thatched house,in the midst of evergreen lushy trees...and it looked exceptional during rains..
This house belonged to an old engineer,who was a hero in his times..my grandma's tales comprised of his bravery(the way he fought for the weaker section) too...he was my prince charming in the fairy tales I heard..It was after his death,that his son decided to sell the place. I asked my father for it,and he obliged. And now I am here.
This village, by the banks of the large river that flows,is where I was born,is where I lost my mother,is where I learnt to speak and read my mother tongue,is where my grandma was..I find this place close to my heart, I have been to many places in the world(courtesy my father),but here I felt I was with my people..on my land...
Yes,the 'Bell', I wondered where it rang from..it was a sad sounding and had a melancholy rhythm..
I tried to forget about it and tried to go ahead with my daily activities..but it kept ringing in my ears.
In the evening I went out for a walk. It was warm and a cool breeze blew. I walked towards the market. It was bustling with activities there. Men unloading and arranging vegetables and fruits,hawkers shouting out prices of their goods,it was very colorful. It was then that I heard a shopkeeper speak of the bell..He was telling how unfortunate it was...and good that the church could take her in...n so on.
I went n enquired and came to know that there was a church over the hill,which had a huge bell tied in the front. It is usually rung when someone is in deep distress. This time it was for a baby. She was only a week old and was dropped at the church door.
I decided to go n see the baby. The mother there was a very pious lady. She took me to the crib the baby slept in,all cuddled up. She was an angel,I wondered how someone could have the heart to leave her to face the world alone. I came back home, with her face on my mind all the while.
Six months after that incident,today she is with me,as my daughter,in my dream house,where all my childhood fairytales took place....
I have been dreaming to live here since my childhood. Its been part of my fairy tales. My grandma was very fond of reading and had a huge collection of books. We sisters used to wait for the schools to shut for vacations,that is when we could be with her. She was a storyteller. And no matter what, my mind always imagined all the stories taking place here...it was a beautiful tile thatched house,in the midst of evergreen lushy trees...and it looked exceptional during rains..
This house belonged to an old engineer,who was a hero in his times..my grandma's tales comprised of his bravery(the way he fought for the weaker section) too...he was my prince charming in the fairy tales I heard..It was after his death,that his son decided to sell the place. I asked my father for it,and he obliged. And now I am here.
This village, by the banks of the large river that flows,is where I was born,is where I lost my mother,is where I learnt to speak and read my mother tongue,is where my grandma was..I find this place close to my heart, I have been to many places in the world(courtesy my father),but here I felt I was with my people..on my land...
Yes,the 'Bell', I wondered where it rang from..it was a sad sounding and had a melancholy rhythm..
I tried to forget about it and tried to go ahead with my daily activities..but it kept ringing in my ears.
In the evening I went out for a walk. It was warm and a cool breeze blew. I walked towards the market. It was bustling with activities there. Men unloading and arranging vegetables and fruits,hawkers shouting out prices of their goods,it was very colorful. It was then that I heard a shopkeeper speak of the bell..He was telling how unfortunate it was...and good that the church could take her in...n so on.
I went n enquired and came to know that there was a church over the hill,which had a huge bell tied in the front. It is usually rung when someone is in deep distress. This time it was for a baby. She was only a week old and was dropped at the church door.
I decided to go n see the baby. The mother there was a very pious lady. She took me to the crib the baby slept in,all cuddled up. She was an angel,I wondered how someone could have the heart to leave her to face the world alone. I came back home, with her face on my mind all the while.
Six months after that incident,today she is with me,as my daughter,in my dream house,where all my childhood fairytales took place....
