Writing is a form of personal freedom. It has been quite a long time since last I had been craving to write something which is not my genre. Finally, this post helped me to unfold a new side of mine. Hope you guys enjoy this piece of writing and share your valuable feedback. So, it goes like this….
The girl in the purple overcoat watched the tired leaves dislodge themselves from the branches, swaying in the cold breeze, crestfallen. The branches that hung low before autumn now rose gloriously, liberated from the extra weight.
The snow was pure white. The flogging squalls of winter blew loudly. Screeching winds occasionally rose up. When they died, a tomb-like silence haunted the land. Flint-grey skies oversaw the land. The bleak skies were depressing. Winter smothered the land with its vice-like grip. High above her, the last of the morning stars were winking out sadly. An orb-white, winter moon hung there, imitating a pale strobe light. A corona of shimmering yellow light ringed its dying glory.
The cold was getting bolder by the second, ordering the townsfolk to stay inside their homes like a dictator. She didn’t care for the cold wind though; the only cold that bothered her was the cold in his heart. The world around her was imprisoned in a glair-white silence. Nothing sounded, nothing stirred, nothing sang. She thought of the silhouette of a leafless tree. Its leafy abundance may be missing, but its beauty was still intact. There was nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow.
Perhaps the walk out to the stagnant lake among the hills was more keenly relished because of thousands of things that jolted her mind. For all practical purposes nature was at a standstill. . . . There was a wonderful joy in leaving behind the noisy city streets and starting out along the white road that led across the hills. With each breath of the sharp, reviving air she seemed to inhale a new life. A peace as evident as the sun rays on the ground took possession of her inner being. The trivial cares which fretted like a swarm of mosquitoes were driven away by the sweep of wind that comes straight from the mountains. . . . The intense silence that brooded over the snow-bound land was a blessing. The deep blue of the sky and the shadows cast by the trees were a feast to her eyes. The crunch of the snow-rind beneath her feet and the varied hum of the wires overhead were music to her ears.
She could see a group of kidult playing on a nearby pond. They stamped their frozen feet and thumped their chilly bodies to warm up. Their ears caught fire and turned an icy-blue where their scarves couldn’t reach. Their teeth were chattering as they captured memories through a camera.
Leaves come and go; the branches grow stronger and higher, she contemplated.
Like the springing of leaves, she had been a seasonal phenomenon. The thought tortured her. It was still there. She gritted her teeth to prevent them from clattering in the cold and hurried on, careful not to trample the dead leaves scattered all over.
Everything will fade away with the foggy nights. Things will become unclear like the mist on the rear glass of a car. This was me blinking my eyes wanting to have a better view. But, all I saw was the smoke blowing away like haze. The trees looked tedious and they miss the sunlight.
Flowers fell and they miss the branches. Moon too hid behind the clouds, covering itself from the frosty sky. The sun shivers with its bright rays getting low. There is a craving for everything. Although it was saddening but I did not let despair get hold of me because somehow I know that I’ll see it someday, at some place and I’ll be happy to have seen it, wait for it.
P.S: I couldn’t stop writing but eventually I had to. 😛 =) Enjoy (y)