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Reviving The Childhood
# WritcoStoryChallenge
The old house stood dilapidated and full of memories. The pillars in the long front verandah , the majestic entrance , the steps leading to its interiors created a whirlpool in her mind . She stood there at the steps , dumb , stupefied , desperately searching for some living beings inside . Even after forty years , the house looked so much the same despite the broken , discoloured walls . She wanted to run in , as a teenager , when her charm made her, her grandmother's favourite. How the grandmother admired her looks , her innocent , lovable smiles and how often she used to prepare her special dinner on mud stove . Reminiscences came fleeting past from the days of her youth.
As she went into the dark hall , she couldn't control the urge to touch that dusty sofa of her grandfather , where he used to relax in the evening after busy court hours . All the children of the house who had come to spend their vacations , sat around him while the grandfather narrated his experiences at court . On Sundays , when there was no court duty he would make the kids sit with him and enjoyed their frolics . How could she forget his spiritual discourses in the evening sessions where for the first time she felt an intense curiosity for life beyond this world , about God , universe and many such philosophical realms . Scenes of bygone days began unfolding before her when she entered the long , narrow passage leading to the huge , spacious courtyard . Tears rolled down her cheeks at the state of the house where once laughter and activity reigned. Standing there in the middle of that large courtyard she looked up . The sun was getting ready to set , but she had to go inside those rooms surrounding the large space, from three sides . It seemed, she heard her grandmother's voice calling her fondly. Moving in hurriedly , she recalled her grandmother's dressing room , dressing table and so many small details came rushing in. The rooms were intact but the electric wires hung all around causing her husband to light his big torch. She wandered through the rooms trying to revive every single moment spent there. Time was running out ; their train departed at 9 pm . They had already clicked some photos but those were not enough to settle her nostalgia. Her heart bled at the very thought of loss that was never to be gained. While closing the entrance gate behind her , she took a deep sigh ; at least she could resurrect the pleasures of her childhood in that short span of journey through past.
© Smita Bakshi
The old house stood dilapidated and full of memories. The pillars in the long front verandah , the majestic entrance , the steps leading to its interiors created a whirlpool in her mind . She stood there at the steps , dumb , stupefied , desperately searching for some living beings inside . Even after forty years , the house looked so much the same despite the broken , discoloured walls . She wanted to run in , as a teenager , when her charm made her, her grandmother's favourite. How the grandmother admired her looks , her innocent , lovable smiles and how often she used to prepare her special dinner on mud stove . Reminiscences came fleeting past from the days of her youth.
As she went into the dark hall , she couldn't control the urge to touch that dusty sofa of her grandfather , where he used to relax in the evening after busy court hours . All the children of the house who had come to spend their vacations , sat around him while the grandfather narrated his experiences at court . On Sundays , when there was no court duty he would make the kids sit with him and enjoyed their frolics . How could she forget his spiritual discourses in the evening sessions where for the first time she felt an intense curiosity for life beyond this world , about God , universe and many such philosophical realms . Scenes of bygone days began unfolding before her when she entered the long , narrow passage leading to the huge , spacious courtyard . Tears rolled down her cheeks at the state of the house where once laughter and activity reigned. Standing there in the middle of that large courtyard she looked up . The sun was getting ready to set , but she had to go inside those rooms surrounding the large space, from three sides . It seemed, she heard her grandmother's voice calling her fondly. Moving in hurriedly , she recalled her grandmother's dressing room , dressing table and so many small details came rushing in. The rooms were intact but the electric wires hung all around causing her husband to light his big torch. She wandered through the rooms trying to revive every single moment spent there. Time was running out ; their train departed at 9 pm . They had already clicked some photos but those were not enough to settle her nostalgia. Her heart bled at the very thought of loss that was never to be gained. While closing the entrance gate behind her , she took a deep sigh ; at least she could resurrect the pleasures of her childhood in that short span of journey through past.
© Smita Bakshi
