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.
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