The winter wind had once again begun blowing at night, enveloping every thing it touched in an icy shroud. The little town on the hill stood almost frigid and unmovable, scarcely preserving its vitality, by means of small fires that crackled in furnaces, seen through glowing windows of houses with sloping roofs and gray stone walls.
Devi tugged at her shawl and pulled it closer around her, the last bit of rich clothing that served as a reminder of her former days of opulence and beauty. The fire hissed and crackled, dancing merrily, the branches of the bare trees outside cast ominous shadows on the walls, that were suggestive of spectres and phantoms to a lonely old lady huddled in a shawl.
Devi cried again, wishing for the companionship of an old lost love. If only she hadn’t tossed it all away, if only her pride had taken a bow before his love. But great beauty when coupled with vanity had given rise to such haughtiness within her, that it took years of crying solitude and loneliness to get rid of. Devi managed to rock herself to sleep, blotting out the creepy shadows by shutting her eyes and gradually the old memories faded away as she slipped into oblivion.
The next afternoon, the wind was milder in its icy wrath. Devi managed to settle herself in the verandah. She spotted the neighboring boys again playing cricket in the street. The pesky kids were too much of a nuisance. Always creating a ruckus when she wished for was peace and quiet. The winter sun shone mildly as she drifted off into a nap.
The sudden noise jolted her. The troublesome kids had once again thrown their ball over into her yard. And a couple of kids had ventured in to retrieve their possession. Devi thought that this was the perfect opportunity to intimidate them from coming any further.
She stood up from her chair. The boys halted in their track, uncertain of what to do next.
Devi rose her wrinkled hand and yelled at them.‘Don’t you boys ever dare come into my yard again. I will not bear noise here. Go away from here’,’
The boy called Rohit answered, ‘Aunty we just need to get our ball’
He was a brave boy. A lad who was far mature for his age. He sensed in the old lady, a longing for companionship and friendship.
Undeterred by the scowl on Devi’s face, he persisted. ‘We are tired aunty, could you give us some water?’
Devi was stunned. It was after a very long time that someone had asked something of her.
She recollected herself and for some reason that she couldn’t understand, went in to get water.
This went on for a few more times, each time Devi gave them a drink.In fact each afternoon she began eagerly looking forward to seeing the kids
Young kids are possessed with so noble a heart and so engaging a disposition, that old people cannot resist their buoyancy and vibrancy.
One day Devi prepared cookies for them. The boys soon swarmed up around her, talking and laughing and asked her many questions. Devi managed to answer some of them.They talked and played about her and chomped on the cookies.
This turned into a daily affair. Each day Devi looked forward to the kids. Each day she prepared something nice for them. They in turn chatted with her for hours, narrating incidents from school and their families. Devi found the link to the world that she had lost many a years ago.
Her solitary home now turned into a beautiful abode for the young children. The old lonely lady now became the kind neighborhood aunty who loved children. Devi never had a family of her own. These children had become her family.
Devi now experienced for the first time in her life, what is was to love and to be loved back.
Devi tugged at her shawl and pulled it closer around her, the last bit of rich clothing that served as a reminder of her former days of opulence and beauty. The fire hissed and crackled, dancing merrily, the branches of the bare trees outside cast ominous shadows on the walls, that were suggestive of spectres and phantoms to a lonely old lady huddled in a shawl.
Devi cried again, wishing for the companionship of an old lost love. If only she hadn’t tossed it all away, if only her pride had taken a bow before his love. But great beauty when coupled with vanity had given rise to such haughtiness within her, that it took years of crying solitude and loneliness to get rid of. Devi managed to rock herself to sleep, blotting out the creepy shadows by shutting her eyes and gradually the old memories faded away as she slipped into oblivion.The next afternoon, the wind was milder in its icy wrath. Devi managed to settle herself in the verandah. She spotted the neighboring boys again playing cricket in the street. The pesky kids were too much of a nuisance. Always creating a ruckus when she wished for was peace and quiet. The winter sun shone mildly as she drifted off into a nap.
The sudden noise jolted her. The troublesome kids had once again thrown their ball over into her yard. And a couple of kids had ventured in to retrieve their possession. Devi thought that this was the perfect opportunity to intimidate them from coming any further.
She stood up from her chair. The boys halted in their track, uncertain of what to do next.
Devi rose her wrinkled hand and yelled at them.‘Don’t you boys ever dare come into my yard again. I will not bear noise here. Go away from here’,’
The boy called Rohit answered, ‘Aunty we just need to get our ball’
He was a brave boy. A lad who was far mature for his age. He sensed in the old lady, a longing for companionship and friendship.
Undeterred by the scowl on Devi’s face, he persisted. ‘We are tired aunty, could you give us some water?’
Devi was stunned. It was after a very long time that someone had asked something of her.
She recollected herself and for some reason that she couldn’t understand, went in to get water.
This went on for a few more times, each time Devi gave them a drink.In fact each afternoon she began eagerly looking forward to seeing the kids
Young kids are possessed with so noble a heart and so engaging a disposition, that old people cannot resist their buoyancy and vibrancy.
One day Devi prepared cookies for them. The boys soon swarmed up around her, talking and laughing and asked her many questions. Devi managed to answer some of them.They talked and played about her and chomped on the cookies.
This turned into a daily affair. Each day Devi looked forward to the kids. Each day she prepared something nice for them. They in turn chatted with her for hours, narrating incidents from school and their families. Devi found the link to the world that she had lost many a years ago.
Her solitary home now turned into a beautiful abode for the young children. The old lonely lady now became the kind neighborhood aunty who loved children. Devi never had a family of her own. These children had become her family.
Devi now experienced for the first time in her life, what is was to love and to be loved back.
