Monday, September 22, 2008

The Protected Eyes

It was that time of the day when the sun wanted to embrace you for the rest of the day. Some of its rays were peeping through a huge boundless tree. He was sitting there. He was reading a book. His face said that he liked the book. The sounds of birds and squirrels on the huge tree and the voices of children accompanied his excursion towards the next page. He was reading a book on travelling.

Travelling fascinated him. He loved to explore new places, new people, new cultures, new perspectives, new sounds, and new visions. His dream was to go on a world tour. His mother thought that it wasn’t possible. In fact she used to always laugh on him saying, “Why do you need to travel? It’ll be of no use.” His mother loved him a lot. She was very protective of him. He loved her too. His father had died 8 years ago in a car accident. He wasn’t a very loving person. He used to keep to himself most of the time. His father seemed like a person who had no dreams. He used to be awed by his father whenever he was around. Being their only child, contrary to perceptions, he had no responsibilities. He always used to paint himself as a free bird.

He liked painting too. He loved the fact that by holding a brush in your hands and smearing it with life of any colour, one could transform an empty sheet into a world of your own. Once, he had drawn a tower alongside a river and titled it ‘The Eiffel Tower- As I See It’. His mother was astonished to see such an accurate image of a place which she and her son hadn’t visited even once. One fine day, when both of them were sitting in the balcony and chatting about their neighbors and the weather, he decided to paint her picture. She initially was reluctant, but, later agreed for it. He told her to not to pose and do whatever she feels like. After an hour, when she saw the painting, she made a disagreeing face. She told him to draw a line at a point. He asked, “What was missing?” She replied, “A smile.”

He didn’t have many friends. He had tried to build some relationships, but most of the people were irresponsive. They thought he was a strange character. The reason behind that is that he is a dreamer. He loved to create dreams for himself, for his mother, for his father and for people he didn’t know. Dreams always seemed like a mystery story to him; or like an unlocked treasure box. He thought he had the key to that box. He thought he already knew the end to that mystery, whereas he’d never conceived a beginning. 2 years ago, on his father’s birthday, he was dreaming for him. A man who could have led a perfect life, only if he wouldn’t have been so engrossed in his thoughts that night. A man who could have seen his wife’s painting his son had made. A man who could have been a part of the future his son had often dreamed for him. A man who could have helped his son make friends.

He held the leaf in his hand which had grown out of the tree’s shadow and wanted to explore the world. He made the leaf his bookmark. He heard a familiar sound coming towards him. The occupant of that familiar sound was a friend of his, who he had met 5 years ago in a park like this, who did not find him strange, and who found solace in his company. He had always thought her to be a lonely child. She greeted him and asked him what he was doing. He said “nothing, just thinking about you.” She said in a surprised tone, “about me? What were you thinking about me?” He replied, “Well I was just thinking how I have been provided shelter throughout my life…by my mother…my father…by nature…by my dreams…and by you. I haven’t seen anything in the past 10 years. I can’t. But people around me have protected me and guided me. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” She said, “Yes, it is indeed.” And he continued reading the book. And she just stared at him, trying to seek shelter in him and his world.

26 comments:

  1. Not that informative!

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  2. It's really nice!!

    :)

    I liked the previous posts also!

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  3. Hmmmm....I guess it wasn't really gripping but overall the idea was nice.

    But yea the inter-weaving of the paragraphs was done in a nice way.

    Chees!!

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  4. That was nice.... :)

    U painted quite a picture in the first paragraph... loved it...
    The story was good too ....

    Keep it coming...

    Cheers..!!
    Arjun

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  5. Ummm, be clear. There are too many gaps in the narrative.

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  6. There was slight discontinuity in the story and I guess its because you had attempted to tell more with less words.

    However, the last two lines which describe her feelings were simply beautiful

    Cheers
    Lefty

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  7. hmm.. interesting story... but kinda lost it in the middle..

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  8. well that was nice story... although the theme and objective of the story doesnt seem too apparent which it must have been... the character seems more like a pink floyd theme child "Pink"...
    but the inter connectivity among the different parts of the story was very good... :)
    keep it up.

    http://muddleheaded.wordpress.com

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  9. good...but quite abstract...maybe u cud have been more clear...
    and hey can you please tell me how did you put up the rating critique for each blog...

    cheers,
    Sowmitra

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  10. that was so good..the second paragraph especially ,it's so like me.nice compilation.
    i'd like to add you on my blogroll if it's no problem to you.

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  11. ur a good writer :)

    hey! cant seem to find any sharing engine on ur blog. y dnt u put up something like Tell-a-Friend so that visitor like me can share ur posts with frens thru mails,IMs,blogs,socialnetworking sites etc...u cn simply register on www.socialtwist.com Do check it out :)

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  12. There is always a shroud of thought covering the words in your creations.A lot left for the reader to derive,a lot of mysteries in the stories.I personally find them amazing. General pshycology:annoying.
    So..... free-speecch :)

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  13. it was a pretty good story . concept was nice , but it was long winding and easy to lose track . the ending helped me grasp it . u need to better ur style and use words to create an effect .

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  14. Came across your blog in orkut , so came to visit.Nice writing keep it up, too much repetition of the word "he"


    http://cutestangel.wordpress.com/

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  15. nice post!!..u managed to paint apicture of that lonely,bookish painter in my mind...i just loved the blog!!

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  16. there was a lot of honesty in your writing

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  17. I congratulate, what necessary words..., a brilliant idea

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  18. What necessary words... super, a magnificent phrase

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  19. wow very small sentences.. very to the point..no flowery language.. precise and pretty good

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  20. she does't anything, but yet Aditi ends up saying so much. I love that mystery that she weaves into her stories. Quite vague mysteries. At one point in an earlier story she wrote that she was rather intrigued by an initial "N", in the blog writers name. Well, I love the way she gets in vagueness, lack of purpose, lack of sense, in her writings. Its an amazing technique to keep people like me glued to the writings. I love it, absolutely. I wish she keeps writing, weaving mysteries, vague ones, :) ... and leaving all of us in a TRANCE. hmm *sighs*, seems life's going to be lived in trances hereafter, now that I have begun to read Aditi's blogs, and have fallen in love with it ... :)

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  21. Great article, Thanks for your great information, the content is quiet interesting. I will be waiting for your next post.

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