CHAPTER THREE:
THE AUTUMN WINDS
"It is Allah who takes away the souls at the time of their death, and those that die not during their sleep. He keeps those (souls) for which He has ordained death and sends the rest for a term appointed. Verily, in this are signs for a people who think deeply."
(Surah Az-Zumar)
"The world isn't what it seems. Sometimes a difference lies between what you see and what there really is. You'd deal with delusions and enthralling charms at every cross of your life in the
end what would matter the most is your strength of character, determination, virtue and
rectitude.
He remembered his mother telling him once. The words appeared too big and
questioning when he had heard them. He hadn't believed in them then. But today when he
reflected upon the trails his life's roller coaster had left he gathered that his mother was right had the world been what it seemed he would never have ached and bled."
The boy propped himself up with the support of his mothers sleeping form, his nose itched with the burning smell of the autumn leaves. Staring out of the window he took in the naked trees that somewhat danced in the winds shedding what little leaves they were left with. The act struck the boy both as tempting and melancholic. The trees were losing a part of them but they knew that when the spring blossoms they would retrieve what they were misplacing now with the consents of nature. They had every reason to play along. Who on Earth wouldn't want to start anew? Who wouldn't want to get rid of the old battered things and grab some shiny new ones worth saving? If he loses someone he would not moan. Sure in the end he would get them back. Just like the trees. He thought childishly, clapping enthusiastically as the leaves fell to the ground wasted.
The autumn winds traced through the entire country, ruffling the trees here and spreading the burning smell of the leaves there. They had vigor in them and traveled regardless to anything in their path. The rustic leaves fell and flew away far from their origin, knowing that they were never going to be back because their time had ended. That was the wheel of nature and things had to go about it willingly or unwillingly without a say in any of what happened.
"It's the hope of newness that is striking you." His mother woke up with a start gathering him in her arms and placing a chaste kiss on his ever so petal soft cheek.
"yush momma.. loot at eet.. esho booteefool." The boy chirped.
"Sometimes hope for demise brings bigger wonders to mankind." His mother unleashed her always overflowing wisdom at him. The boy looked at his mother with big caramel questioning eyes clearly not understanding the mlange of realities behind the words. She smiled at him kissing his forehead.
" There is work to do bobo. Come on up now. We have taken a long catnap." Getting down the broken bed she searched for her slippers putting them on.
"I'll be back by 6 bobo. Take care of yourself. Don't come out. Play with your toys. You will do this much for me. Wont you?" He recounted her mother's incessant never ending instructions in his mind, tying them all up in a knot in his mind for securing. He hated when his momma went away. Those times the fear never left him. The trees always tried to grab him. He had told his momma once and she had flippantly chided him for making up implausible stories. He loved his momma with all his life and innocence. She was the best mother on this planet. He wished his momma wouldn't have to work so hard. He wished his momma could always stay by his side. He wished to be a big boy for his momma so he had resolved to keep his fears to himself and not let them get their way with him. He was a strong boy of his momma.
"I weel momma." He stretched his arms up so his momma could pick him up. Shifting in his mothers embrace he lightly pecked on both her cheeks. This had become a ritual for them. His momma never went away without his kiss. He beamed at her and jumped down.
"Bye bobo. I love you." She ruffled his hairs and stepped out.
"lub yoo too." He watched his mother tread away on the stony path, her gait heavy and tired just like always but the determination evident. When he could no longer see the profile of his mother he closed the doors slightly, praying for his fears to not be unfolded. As he turned back he saw the naked branches creeping inside the window. Downed in fear he shut his eyes closely, his little heart fluttering like a caged bird trashing to come out any minute.
Momma Momma he chanted in his mind, his hands clenched into fists with such force that his nails dug deeply in his soft palms but he couldn't care less for the fear held too much of his rationality. Seconds ticked by and he felt nothing hem him in. Breathing deeply, he slowly opened one of his eyes peeking through it and almost cried with reprieve for the trees had slid back in their position. The branches writhed in the wind with their state of undress.
Cutting at his inner skin of the mouth he reluctantly walked towards his jute rucksack placed beside the kitchenette wall. His eyes shone with blatant elation. He gathered it in his arms and earnestly hobbled to the bed. He emptied the contents of the sack on the bed and clapped vigorously unveiling his toys. Pushing himself up on the bed, he picked up his beloved soldier. It was huge and clad in green uniform. He remembered the fervor with which he had tangoed around the garden when his mother had handed him that soldier. She had told him that her mistress had given it to him as a gift. Her eyes had glistened with tears in those moments and he hadn't been able to ask the reason because his happiness had gotten the better of him.
The soldier had an amputated leg and an arm, his dangling gun was half bent and his head was twisted out of place. But he didn't mind for it was a soldier, it was his soldier and every time he witnessed the artsy with which his face was carved he felt blown away. Its face held the consummated courage and gallantry. Within his eyes he could see the naked aspiration and covet of combating the unknown fears.
I will be a soldier one day and I will salvage Momma from all predicaments and hardships, he thought with a Cheshire cat smile gilding his face. Lapping the soldier he looked at the other toys. There was a headless cat, a broken cart wheel, a decrepit bat, a deflated plastic ball and an ABC beginner booklet. He picked it up and started reading it. No matter how many times he read it he never got bushed. His mother trained him at home. But he had wishes residing in his heart. He wanted to go to school, make friends, and have fun. For once let go of all the worries and destitution he was enduring. But then they were wishes that his young mind and heart knew weren't even close to getting fulfilled.
A knock at the door gauged his attention. Momma is early today?! He thought jumping down the bed. Unlocking the door he saw his mother leaning across the wall, her face drained of color and her eyes clouded with pain while tears ran down her face. The next thing he saw were the blood drops on the ground and the blood soaked attire of his mother.
"Momma what hapeend?" he asked taking hold of her hands.
"Nothing bobo... lets .. go.. inside." She replied with a pain stricken voice. Supporting his mother's form on her small shoulders he gingerly took her inside.
So many things happened that day for his little mind to soak up and comprehend. He was a five year old child, one that had yet to bloom in the coming spring.
He hadn't even known what dying really was. When he had watched his mother losing her life in front of his very eyes he had not known what to do. When he had seen the blood on the floor where his mother's body lied he had not known how to clean it for is mother liked tidiness. He had tried to wipe away the blood with the kitchen cloth but it had only made the redness worst. For hours he had watched his mother lying on the floor assuming her to be asleep for she must have been drained of energy. He had even tried to make her drink water afterwards but his momma never responded.
He hadn't slept the whole night because sleep wasn't ready to come. He had continued playing with his toys when he had gotten tired sitting by his mother. When the birds had twittered, breaking the silence of nightfall that had been scaring the living daylights out of him he had felt the calm settling upon himself. He had really watched the day breaking for the first time that day. The way the sky turned from indigo black to azure blue, the way the stars twinkling in the sky disappeared in the light scattered by the morning. The way the birds flew in the sky and sung the songs of the morning glory. He had found himself dancing with uncharacteristic weird moves with each chirp he heard.
When he had felt the funny churning in his stomach he had realized he hadn't eaten anything for a day. He had then walked to his mother's sleeping form to shake her awake. But no matter how many times he had called out to her and shook her she didn't move an inch. The tears had then started falling from the hunger and weakness he felt. He had searched the kitchen then and was ecstatic to find the week old half loaf of bread. He had eaten half of it saving the rest for his mother. When the sun finally made its appearance in the sky and the light scattered in the room in yellow rays he had found his eyes drooping with drowsiness. He had then hugged his mother, forcefully draping her arms across his tiny waist. The floor felt uncomfortable but he slept peacefully in his mother's arms oblivious to his world that had shattered into pieces, oblivious to the death that had occurred, oblivious to the life he cherished the most coming to an end.
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Adieu.
Mischief Managed.
The Marauder
Udne Ki Aasha
34