LOVE

Once upon a time, there lived a princess. Well, not a conventional one, for the heroine in question neither dwelt in a castle nor wore trailingembellished gowns.

Anna was only an overworked waitress at a tiny café shop in Moscow, that fortunately fetched quite a number of customers and where besides her another young girl was employed, which however did not help Anna much for this girl turned out to be the owner’s love interest and hence was a beneficiary of several unwarranted leaves which often involved dates with the owner himself.

Anna did not complain. Not that she had a choice either. She was hardly 5 when her opera singer mother was snatched away by a car accident while returning home from a performance. Her father, a talented lyricist, wasted himself away due to his immoderate drinking habits and was gone before she had arrived in this world. A carved little chest secured by a heart shaped lock, besides the apartment she had shared with her mother were her only inheritances. All other belongings in the apartment, ornate furniture, opera gowns and even the grand piano that her mother often practiced her notes on were sold off in order to support Anna, no source of fortune having been amassed by the singer-lyricist couple ever being known to anyone. Her grandmother who had volunteered to look after her only daughter’s child too did not last past Anna’s 19th birthday.

Now a young woman about 20 years old Anna lived all by herself. With no means to support her education further, she had to drop out straight after high school. A voracious reader and with a hunger to learn, however, Anna dreamt of enrolling herself into college as an Arts major someday and hence had been saving up bit by bit, her only luxury being visiting a book store and occasionally grabbing an interesting piece of Fiction or perhaps a dissertation on the Great Russian Revolution.

One particularly cold winter night, such a night when winter is on the brink of death and yet reluctant to release its grip before spring overpowers it fully, and Anna had begun to drift off after a hard day’s work at the cafe, a weak little chirp was suddenly heard. Blinking her eyes open, she strained her ears and yet again heard the sound. It appeared to emanate from the window to the right of her bed. Anna hesitated, then opened the window a peek. A gust of chilled air left her startled for a while and impulsively she closed the window. The chirp however resumed. As she stared about her, there on the bed sat a little sparrow. The gust must have blown the poor thing right inside. With the utmost caution, she edged her fingers towards the sparrow. It stirred a wing weakly but could not protest further. Anna cupped the little creature in one palm and examined it closely. It appeared to have a broken wing. Remembering she had a bit of buttered corn saved up from her dinner, she fed the bird with it while taking care to keep it carefully cupped up in the warmth of her palms. Its hunger having been satisfied, the chirping got replaced by a slumber, of both girl and bird.

Next morning saw Anna checking up on the condition of her feathered guest anxiously. It was fortunately very much alive yet terribly weak. She ventured to bandage up the tiny broken wing, which was accomplished with difficulty given its minute size, and then dutifully fed it with grounded corn. This exercise continued for quite some days while Anna’s guest continued gaining health. Although she wished that her little guest would not leave her alone, she would always leave the bedside window open when she was out so that the sparrow whenever it wished could fly away to freedom. The bird continued to be her company for several days. It would greet her with mischievous little chirps when she awoke and preen its feathers carefully. When she would return home from work, it would be sitting perched atop her bedside table, deep in sleep.

Spring arrived gradually and saw the great city don a vivacious appearance, casting aside the white cloak of snow. One evening when she returned, she could no longer find the bird. With a sigh, she closed the window. The sparrow, having recovered fully had at last flown away, leaving Anna all to herself once more. A quiet supper was conducted, an old edition of ‘War and Peace’ Anna’s only company for the night. She soon found herself in a dreamless sleep.

A pesky little noise, as if a sharp object were scratching against glass woke her up. Anna was not ready to get up. It was eons since the café owner had taken pity on her looking at her haggard appearance and let her have an off day. But the sound was persistent. She frowned and winked an eye open in the flooding sunlight. It was the sparrow! She opened the bedside window and the bird readily hopped into her palms.

But the bird had not come on a mere visit. Its beady little eyes sparkled with purpose and its beaks held a shining object. Anna pulled the object gently away. It was a key that had a heart shaped head. The word LOVE was intricately carved upon it. Anna stared at it for a while. The sparrow chirped expectantly. Whether it was the excitement of the feathered creature or the intriguing air about the queer looking key, inspiration struck our heroine. Rummaging in her drawer, she fished out the small old chest she had received upon her mother’s death. She had shown childish interest in it many years ago but the key to its lock never having been found and not wishing to cause any damage to it by forcefully breaking the lock had soon lost interest in it and the box had remained forgotten.

Tentatively, Anna inserted the key and turned it. The lock, a bit rusty with age, resisted at first but then clicked open. The sparrow perched quietly atop the bedside table while Anna, with trembling hands, propped the lid open. Old photographs- of a beautiful and elegant young lady held lovingly by a young man, of the same lady dressed grandly for an opera performance, a yellowed paper containing treble notes and lyrics lay stacked inside. Anna sifted through her parents’ memories silently, a myriad of thoughts racing through her mind. As her fingers randomly searched through the contents of the chest, they came across a stamped paper. It looked like a deed of some sort. Anna lifted it up. ‘An Amount of 200000000 Ruble as well as the mansions, one each in the villages of Askat and Nikola Lenivets to be handed over to our one and only daughter, Anna Verse upon the discovery of this will.

-Nicholas and Lola Verse’

-These were the words that had been typed, signed and stamped across on the piece of paper Anna had just found out.

Well, what followed is the history of course. All that I am aware of is that Anna, through her grit and new found wealth got admitted into an Art College and lived happily ever after. I must let you in on another important fact though- that LOVE actually stood for the initials of Anna’s mother, Lola Verse.