it just came to me. i love travelling! it brings out the better part of my writing. This is one of my darker themes.
It was bright and sunny; just like my mood. Everyone in the family was at our place. Everyone who cared at least. Aunty Pragya, Uncle Mitchell, my parents, my grandparents(Mama and papa's side) and of course Aunty Shirley. She wasn't anywhere in sight. Probably in the kitchen, crying. I always thought she was a silly old fool. What was that D. C sir used to say? Ah yes, 'intellectually stunted'
Lucy had called the previous week. "I'm coming home," she screamed over the 'thwack thwack' of the helicopter she was travelling in. "But only for a day or two." she added, before my parents could get their hopes up.
But here she was now, coming home for good! Plans change, i guess.
I snuck into her room as i had when i was just a kid. But this time i went in with the sole intention of cleaning it. Once, long ago, Lucy had told me that when she moved out for good i would be free to have her room. I had always loved it in there. The window seat was just perfect. The cupboards fit into the space just right and the view was the one i had covetted the moment I had set my eyes on it. Well, it looked like all that didn't matter anymore.
My sister was no ordinary girl. Oh no she wasn't! "Pride of the family", as Papa often said.
My sister had gone through life in school with nothing to hamper her perfect smile and none of the teenage angst or adolescent paranoia had bothered her. She had had it all. She looked like she belonged on the ramp and she had the brains to combat any of the great minds she competed with at the time. (Jimmy Thompson-98th percentile, Susan Reddy 96th percentile, Class of 79)
When she graduated she took on the life of a hermit for a year. It scared my parents to death but they supported her. As they always did. She stayed in her room. Did nothing but read books. Books on anything that interested her at the time. I would creep into her room and watch her with fascination as she sat at the window seat reading the Atlas from cover to cover or the thesaurus or even Nancy Drew. She fascinated me. At that time.
Lucy had succumbed to only one person and that was Sanath Puri; the only guy who'd gotten even close to matching her eye for eye in everything she threw at him. They were so alike it wasn't even funny. I wasn't surprised when Lcy brought him home. The perfect guy for the perfect girl.. That was our Lucy. My parents couldn't have been prouder.
Lucy and Sanath were to be married in December. so close....only a month away. Sanath was here too. Probably in the kitchen with Aunty Shirley. He was quite silly as well.
Lucy would be here any minuite now. The people at the airport said that they'd gotten her off safely and that she was gettin here in a sleek black van. She always managed to travel in style. Even now.
My father and mother were on the diwan sitting hand in hand. My mom's eyes were red. I don't think she slept very well the previous night. I wonder why. I slept like a log.
The atmosphere in the room was one of anticipation. I could feel each and every person's anxiety to see my sister; with her leaf-like fragility and petal nose, graceful twig-like fingers and flower-like beauty. I wonder if life or something else has changed her at all.
I realized that i was as anxious as anybody to see her. But mine was a different kind of anxiety. I wanted to see if it was really and truly my sister. Someone I'd spent so much time idolizing. Someone my parents had fawned over and given so much love and affection. I wanted to make sure. That's all.
I was startled out of my reverie by the sound of a gasp. My mother's gasp, as she rushed to the door. Now I heard the sound too....tyres on the gravel of our driveway. The black van was here.
I took a deep breath- slow and steady. And then, disregarding the small sounds and movements in the room, I walked to the doorway. And stood there. Waiting.
And then, i saw it. The sight was enthralling. The long chocolate brown rectangle covered almost completely by the white of the flowers.
It was a beautiful coffin. Rosewood, polished to a brilliant shine. It sparkled so in the midwinter sun that it made me smile.
My sister was home.
Short story by shar
Read 813 times
Written on 2007-12-06 at 19:23
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Homecoming
This is the story of one day, albeit a small inconsequential day in the lives of all those who were unaware of Lucy's existence. Or mine for that matter. But I knew Lucy and so this story is of the day that changed my life forever.It was bright and sunny; just like my mood. Everyone in the family was at our place. Everyone who cared at least. Aunty Pragya, Uncle Mitchell, my parents, my grandparents(Mama and papa's side) and of course Aunty Shirley. She wasn't anywhere in sight. Probably in the kitchen, crying. I always thought she was a silly old fool. What was that D. C sir used to say? Ah yes, 'intellectually stunted'
Lucy had called the previous week. "I'm coming home," she screamed over the 'thwack thwack' of the helicopter she was travelling in. "But only for a day or two." she added, before my parents could get their hopes up.
But here she was now, coming home for good! Plans change, i guess.
I snuck into her room as i had when i was just a kid. But this time i went in with the sole intention of cleaning it. Once, long ago, Lucy had told me that when she moved out for good i would be free to have her room. I had always loved it in there. The window seat was just perfect. The cupboards fit into the space just right and the view was the one i had covetted the moment I had set my eyes on it. Well, it looked like all that didn't matter anymore.
My sister was no ordinary girl. Oh no she wasn't! "Pride of the family", as Papa often said.
My sister had gone through life in school with nothing to hamper her perfect smile and none of the teenage angst or adolescent paranoia had bothered her. She had had it all. She looked like she belonged on the ramp and she had the brains to combat any of the great minds she competed with at the time. (Jimmy Thompson-98th percentile, Susan Reddy 96th percentile, Class of 79)
When she graduated she took on the life of a hermit for a year. It scared my parents to death but they supported her. As they always did. She stayed in her room. Did nothing but read books. Books on anything that interested her at the time. I would creep into her room and watch her with fascination as she sat at the window seat reading the Atlas from cover to cover or the thesaurus or even Nancy Drew. She fascinated me. At that time.
Lucy had succumbed to only one person and that was Sanath Puri; the only guy who'd gotten even close to matching her eye for eye in everything she threw at him. They were so alike it wasn't even funny. I wasn't surprised when Lcy brought him home. The perfect guy for the perfect girl.. That was our Lucy. My parents couldn't have been prouder.
Lucy and Sanath were to be married in December. so close....only a month away. Sanath was here too. Probably in the kitchen with Aunty Shirley. He was quite silly as well.
Lucy would be here any minuite now. The people at the airport said that they'd gotten her off safely and that she was gettin here in a sleek black van. She always managed to travel in style. Even now.
My father and mother were on the diwan sitting hand in hand. My mom's eyes were red. I don't think she slept very well the previous night. I wonder why. I slept like a log.
The atmosphere in the room was one of anticipation. I could feel each and every person's anxiety to see my sister; with her leaf-like fragility and petal nose, graceful twig-like fingers and flower-like beauty. I wonder if life or something else has changed her at all.
I realized that i was as anxious as anybody to see her. But mine was a different kind of anxiety. I wanted to see if it was really and truly my sister. Someone I'd spent so much time idolizing. Someone my parents had fawned over and given so much love and affection. I wanted to make sure. That's all.
I was startled out of my reverie by the sound of a gasp. My mother's gasp, as she rushed to the door. Now I heard the sound too....tyres on the gravel of our driveway. The black van was here.
I took a deep breath- slow and steady. And then, disregarding the small sounds and movements in the room, I walked to the doorway. And stood there. Waiting.
And then, i saw it. The sight was enthralling. The long chocolate brown rectangle covered almost completely by the white of the flowers.
It was a beautiful coffin. Rosewood, polished to a brilliant shine. It sparkled so in the midwinter sun that it made me smile.
My sister was home.
Short story by shar
Read 813 times
Written on 2007-12-06 at 19:23
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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