Shadow3 mins 8.2K 3 mins 8.2K
The shadow of the tree was growing longer. We waited there for relaxing and getting rid of the sultry summer. We did not count how many birds had chirped above our head. We did not know how many leaves were falling down every minute from different branches of the tree. We did not even bother to know the name of the tree that shaded us from the urban heat. But we did know that we wanted to say something to each other.
However, we kept ourselves talkatively mum. We talked a lot, but did not really talk about something that we wanted to. Then, all of a sudden, you asked whether I believe in shadows. 'What a weird question?', I thought. So I asked, 'What does that mean?'. ' It simply means you should believe in some shadows in your life so that you don't lose your direction.' My argument lover soul immediately thought of asking, 'What if there is no light?' But before I could ask anything you pressed your forefinger forcefully on my mouth and said, 'Utter nothing and wait.' Then you opened your wallet and gifted me a nice strong metal pen on the occasion of me, becoming an year older .
I immediately asked, 'I won't be able to use it, if you say it's just a shadow.' You sent the ball to my court by saying, 'You decide and give it a name .' I thought for a while, but could not get anything. In the mean time, your pervert watch some how reminded you about your irritating busy schedule. You said that I should carry the pen always with me and not lose it at any cost. I asked, 'Why?' 'Stupid, think of the name and you will realize.'
Then you left after bidding me a quick urban goodbye. Since then I could not find a suitable name for your gifted pen. I came home. I took a shower. I relaxed and had food. I watched a romantic cinema on a popular television channel in the hope of finding a suitable name for the pen. But nothing sounded perfect to me. However, at 12 midnight, I thought it would be better to sleep now. So, I prepared the bed, switched off the light and, having kept the pen and my cell phone by my head, finally went to the bed. I had a habit of keeping one of the windows open at night.
The stars were sparkling in the dark sky. The milky way spread across the universe appeared as the shadow of an endless entity. The moon peeped through the window directly on to the pen and I saw it also sparkled like a twinkling star. 'So sweet', I thought, 'it's smiling just like you'. It was really stupid of me. I realized immediately. So I just sent you the sms, ' Shadow of yours.' Wasn't it a perfect name for the pen?
Now I am sixty one, Just retired from the busy hectic urban life. I grow colorful flowers on the roof top of our tiny urban flat. But whenever I sit by my urban window and see the smoky obscure urban sky, the nostalgia of your shadow fills my heart with a sweet fragrance. I just love it. It is still refreshing, youthful and fantastic, though I had lost the pen many years ago in another busy sweet world of my middle class family.