Its Thursday already. Sigh. My one week half-term holiday is almost over. No more late nights, no more long walks, and no picking up Krish from school. I love that iddy biddy uniform of his. I'm craving popcorn. Have a good day ya'll. I know I havn't been posting as much lately but here's a bit of a memoir for you to feast your eyes upon.
Sodden Tissues
I have always been fascinated by the sky. Its’ endlessness never ceases to amaze me. This is a memory I am truly fond of, one to tell those that’ll someday be bouncing on your knees, huddled around your chair, listening with rapt, undivided, unconditional attention. This is a story that takes me back in time, every time.
A long, long time ago, when I was only four years old, I used to sit on a tiny little stool in my bedroom’s balcony, and watch the stars twinkle up high. In my mind’s eye would spin fantasies, dreams, hopes and childish wishes that now are so sweetly treasured. I remember my long hair brushing up against the back of the stool, and my thin, white cotton and lace nightdresses tickling my ankles. I can only imagine my dreamy expression, my eyes reflecting what I so loved to see, all this, and the soft tinkling of the wind-chimes breaking the awe-instilling silence and softening the memory itself.
Sitting there, my arms wrapped around me and shivering slightly in the cold, fresh air, I’d look up, and see thousands of stars twinkling away. It was a beautiful night, slightly after midnight… the moon hung low in the sky, and I was counting the stars. I remember myself shivering slightly when the wind picked up; my face was probably flushed pink with cold, my eyes all glassy, mystified by what lay before me.
Suddenly, there were dozens of stars falling, and I stood up and peered over the railings, enraptured. One shooting star seemed to fall on the hill my balcony overlooked, and I was excited at the thought of owning such a beautiful thing for myself. To treasure for all time.
I picked up my teddy bear, Humphrey, (Whom I still have, now patched and old, yet well loved over the years) and slid my room door open quietly. Tiptoeing past my parents’ bedroom and down the stairs, Humphrey being dragged uncomfortably by one leg, his head thumping on each step, I entered the kitchen and quietly undid the bolts on the back door. It was even colder outside, yet in my excited state, I barely noticed, let alone remembered to put on a pair of shoes before going out! The gritty, rocky ground gave way under my feet as I slipped and stumbled up the hill, yet the crumbly ground and wet, dew covered grass were pleasantly cool. Cold, numb and blue, I reached the top of the hill and rummaged around in the sharp, thorny bushes, my arms covered in little scratches…and then, I found it!
It was slightly bigger than my tiny little hands, and so, oh so cold. It didn’t look all that special, more like a piece of rock sugar, a star that had lost its shine and turned into a cold, hard rock... The coldness of it surprised me, and I dropped it. I sighed in relief when it didn’t shatter and cradled it with a corner of my nightdress before carefully walking back home. Once back in my room I built a nest on my dressing table, using every single tissue from the tissue box. I placed the charm lovingly on the little bed and proceeded to comb all the burrs out of my hair, before snuggling under my coverlet and falling into a deep sleep.
I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, and sunlight streaming into my eyes. It took me one sleepy minute to recall yesterday night’s events, and before I knew it, I had tossed the blanket aside and was bounding towards the dressing table. Lo and behold, my charm was gone! The only proof that it had existed was a pile of sodden tissues, and my comb with the burrs that had clung stubbornly to my hair.
In tears, I ran next door to my neighbor. Unlike my parents, who were hardly ever at home, she was almost a surrogate mother and many a day did I spend over at her house, playing with her daughter, my best friend, (who didn’t wake up until these morning’s events were over!) She opened the door, took one look at my tear-streaked face and picked me up, carrying me into the living room. Settling into a chair, she cradled me and I sobbed out my story. She then gently mopped me up and suggested that we look for another star. I agreed halfheartedly, and let her lead me out back onto the hill (Reprimanding me gently when she saw that I had left my own house’s door open while running to her own). We searched for a long while, and found not another star, but something very dear to me, my teddy bear, Humphrey. He was all damp and lying forlornly in the tall grass. I hugged him to myself tightly and let my neighbor gently guide me back to her home, where she promptly sat me down at the table with a plate of cookies and a glass of warm milk while she ran Humphrey through the washing machine and dryer, before spraying him generously with her lilac perfume. I was still miserably disconsolate, and she took me on her lap once more, and said that she had something special to give me. My curiosity was piqued, and when she opened her hand, there was the most beautiful crystal that I had ever seen. I smiled, my eyes lighting up, before frowning and asking if it would disappear like the star I found. She laughed and assured me that it would not do so, and put the crystal in my hand. I turned it over and it caught the light, scattering rainbows across the floor. Twas a beautiful, beautiful moment.
To this day, I still have that crystal, in an old box lined with dusty blue velvet. When I grew older, I realized what the crystal was. It was a chandelier crystal, from one of the many chandeliers in my neighbor’s house. And the shooting star I found? Twas but a most loved hailstone.
