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Suchita Senthil Kumar

Classics Inspirational Tragedy


4.7  

Suchita Senthil Kumar

Classics Inspirational Tragedy


Somewhere Up there

Somewhere Up there

3 mins 128 3 mins 128

Cotton. That's what the wafting things above looked like. Some of them looked like deformed animals, like an elephant with a long neck and a broken trunk or like an ostrich with peacock feathers. Some of them looked like flowers and trees while others looked like disembodied heads. Kathir shifted the weight on his left hand and rested his entire body on the soft grass beneath him. He took in the feeling of the grass prickling his bare skin and felt the light hints of moisture near the ankles of his feet from beneath. Once again, he brought his attention to the 'things' hovering above. His grandfather had told him that they were clouds. But he didn't really understand why they had to be called 'clouds'. Maybe they named it so because they always travelled in crowds. But that gave them no reason to name it so. What really mattered now was not the fact that it was named so uncannily, but that his grandfather was up there somewhere.

A few days back there was a huge gathering at home with people crying hysterically and whispering things to each other. He didn't really feel like crying along with them and had asked mother where grandfather was and the only thing she did was cry even harder. His neighbour, also in tears had whispered 'Up'. That was what motivated him to look for him among the clouds. Grandfather had mentioned that one day he would be a free man, flying among those white clouds, becoming a part of them.

And now he so badly wanted to tell grandfather about the girl with pink hair in school and couldn't wait to find him among there. He could tell his friend, Harish. But Harish was also in school and there would be no point in repeating the story to him. Kathir needed to tell his grandfather and only him because it was always fun to narrate incidents to him and watch his eyes sparkle when something unusual happened. His trail of postulation and conceptualization was broken when he heard the shuffling of feet. Turning over, he found his mother walking towards him, her creamy skin paler than ever.

She smiled at him. It wasn't the smile she gave him whenever he had completed his homework or won a prize. It was a half-smile, and there was something sad about it. Despite that, she still managed to look beautiful.

"Where's grandfather?" he asked. "I need to tell him about the girl with pink hair."

"Somewhere up there." She said looking up at the sky, lovingly as though all her hopes hovered along with the clouds.

"Harish's mom did tell me that. I really wish he comes back soon. There's a lot I need to tell him." Kathir implied.


"Well," she said, sitting down and shifting uncomfortably. "I suppose you'll have to tell me about the girl with pink hair."


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