Skip to main content

Little bunny friends

Some pictures refuse to vacate your mind , they stay etched to your memory and whenever you see something close to them, it triggers back that familiar memory of yours which on the first place never left you. It had stayed layered somewhere in a neat folder within you.

As I take my pencil to doodle on a sheet of paper, I can't help but get amused to see the pencil mark transforming itself to something which looks like a bunny. I drop my pencil and my heart flies to that familiar picture, I see it all.

It was during my university days when our academic building overlooked a pond which had a little island no bigger than a table top. Well, there were tufts of grass, one or two banana saplings and all those regular things you see growing by the road but it was something else which made the island attractive. It was home to a herd of rabbits. White as snow, they hopped and cuddled around whole day long  under the sun.

It had become a ritual on my part to stand by the window during our break time and look towards them, they were not aware of my existence but I felt a strange affinity grow towards them. Each day would be the same story, they would hop around and I would keep on looking at them through that window.

It was during the winter time that all of a sudden those rabbits disappeared, it was disheartening. I kept on waiting but couldn't locate them. Slowly my habit died as well.

Months rolled into years and I had almost forgot about those rabbits when i saw them again, happy as ever. I felt some kind of frost melt within me, when had I actually stopped believing in magic? I asked myself.

I ran downstairs and went to the edge of the pond, there I found people who were to rear them. I couldn't help but enquire what had gone wrong, I wanted to know the truth behind the mysterious disappearance of those rabbits. These were new bunnies.

That man smirked at me and in a gruff voice narrated how they reared those rabbits and sold them off. I was shocked, I mean I had never thought about it. And I knew, that person wasn't to be blamed for it was a means of livelihood for him. But my heart, an adamant one kept reaching out for those old lost friends.

Now, when I look at this sheet of paper, that picture comes alive and I realise, no matter if they exist or not in real, they would never cease to exist in my memory and that is what matters to me. Whenever I see something close to their existence, I would remember them with all my heart and there my bunny friends would remain deep rooted.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reading between the lines

"Read between the lines",  I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am,  would you please elaborate? ",  I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted  self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Life on wheels

The one thing that I always had dreamt of as a kid was to have a caravan that could take me to places.I always wanted a gypsy styled life. The idea itself mesmerized me to the extent that I kept dreaming of it the whole time not even realising how it was time which kept on rolling but I stood exactly at the same place, my dreams could never concretize. What was laughed at as a childish game was so important to me that I keep doodling it in my memory till now. I see a meadow, lush green with those small daffodils growing by, perhaps Wordsworth's daffodils! Then I see a girl, her wild unkept hair sailing in the gentle breeze. She has a smile which speaks of solitude, and her heart , well that's swelling with happiness as he looks at her caravan, after all she finally has a life on wheels. What more could she wish for, what more  can anyone wish for? It's not always that we get to live a life we conceived as a kid, life keeps on deciding our track. From what we liked doing...
2 comments
Read more

What do you want to be?

While I was in my 10th standard, almost everyone I met wanted to know what I wanted to be. This question always perplexed me. From the lens of a fifteen year kid who was not yet sure of the changes which awaited in the near future, this question gave me nightmares. I would constantly sit by the mirror and ask myself, what actually would be my answer. My friends always had fancy answers at their disposal. They would confidently chirp whenever any one asked about it. What amused me most was, my friend who had no inkling to study Biology wanted to be a doctor and another friend who detested the idea of even cooking noodles, wanted to be a chef! But whenever they spoke about their wishes, they would always sound confident. And there I was, fumbling for words which refused to escape my lips. It was not until I entered Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya to do my plus two, I found my voice. The teachers there have a different way of viewing life. For the first time, I no longer felt the classroom...
2 comments
Read more