Still life

The young boy rushed past the tree of wishes, the papers were hanging from it’s branches. He took one chit out of his pocket, and placed it on the stem for a support. He ran his right hand with a surge of hope, the motion of Kanian characters was rather interesting. The pen would move in half circles, and some slant lines to make a simple word. The young lad found it simple to do, for his father was a teacher at the primary academy. He had a background from his childhood, and Kanian characters stood as nothing difficult for a young mind.

A lady entered the forest, she was looking for the temple of fire. There was no one in the place, she could spot the young boy tying the paper in the left branch, a few leaves fell as he completed it. She felt the need to look for herself, and she turned right, spotting the cherry blossom that served as the landmark for the temple. She went till the front side of the temple, it’s bright orange shade of the roofs, and wooden walls gave a radiance of calmness. This temple was often associated with the last rites of many elite class families, they worshipped the fire element as the symbol of purity and god’s divine essence. She carried the legacy of being a writer, her poems had always flown around in ceremonies and school functions. She stood there, not being a poet.

The temple opened it’s doors, to welcome her as a soul.

The boy felt lighter after writing his wish, it was the thing he did before the biggest festival in the whole area, ”harsh”, meaning happiness in Kanian. The lady slowly got out of the place, with a calm face. The boy noticed it.

The young lad did not know much about the temple or it’s symbolic nature. But he could picture that the lady had been in his school sometime back, it was a moment of celebration in his memory. The fireworks were lighting in the sky, the children came with flowers in their classes, and she sang a lyric in Kanian as the main guest. He felt an urge to see her again, he felt that the memory was turning into reality. The lyric was from a book his teacher had asked to buy, he could recognize the words after an year of that performance. The boy remembered, the light, the words, and everything else in the world had stopped for him to give wat to the melody. At that moment, his mother had grown sad due to their pet rabbit passing away. The boy sang this lyric at the morning time, when she was making tea. He could sense his mother’s bright smile at that instant, it was the lightness that showed a heart’s bright aura.

The boy got out, not thinking for moment after then.

The lady had stopped by the shop, and she was buying flowers. The boy felt uneasy to go and interrupt her, so he waited till she left the shop. He had a word of gratitude inside his heart, but did not use the moment to hand it over. As the day passed, he could think of the scene again as a reminder.

He wished to thank her.

It was the next day, The school bell was ringing loud. He got in with his friends, they picked the ball and the first kick was offered to him. It was the sports period, everyone in the school knew what was going to happen. The ball slid at the right side, the boy passed it to his man at the left, the other benchmates cheered from the side, and our young master kicked the ball at the front after he got the pass, it crossed the defenders diagonally and got to hit the pole. His eyes twitched in frustration. His hands realigned, and got ready to score in the next moment. He walked at the right, giving way to the opponents taking the ball, he used the tip of his shoe to slide the ball forward. It was his friend’s turn then. He took the lead, dodging 3 of the front side musketeers with the move known as tossing the white snow, he turned his legs around them and they were surprised. The ball spun, and rolled past their feet. The young lad picked his muscles inside of his footballer head, as per his guess, the frontside let the aggressive player named as Clark take lead, The ball got to Jeff, his worry was obvious. The young lad let his friend step before him, Jeff passed it to the other one.

After a dozen shuffles, 3 mins were left.

The young lad, took the charge and got hold of the ball, and he swept past the middle order. Causing them to puzzle, and his kick led the score to increase by 1.

The young boy felt like a winner.

The language period began, his friends were pulling out their notebooks. The teacher slid the chair outside, and sat while opening the index for the chapter of the class.

”The spring season has started, the season of joy and youth.” Said the teacher, ”So I wanted to start a special chapter today, that’s a poem named ’still life’”

”Ma’am?” Called Sarthak.

”Yes sarthak, what do you think?” The teacher asked.

”I read the poem yesterday, it’s words don’t appear to have anything related to spring.” Sarthak said.

”Is it so?” Said the teacher in a calm manner, ”You are probably mentioning the symbolism used. It would be clear when I read it for you, I think.”

”How can still life be joyful?” asked the young lad, ”It would be so boring. Sitting at a place and not doing a thing.” He pointed at the illustration beside the poem using his finger, it was the painting of a garden that had bright colors. The teacher looked at the poem again, she guessed that it was going to be really hard to make them understand the meaning.

”It’s still, in a way that you are not tiring yourself. I will explain it using a simple example.” The teacher said. She took the chalk and drew a stickman, and wrote ”life” under it.

”Assume that this man is going to work the whole day, Plucking 100 apples. Would it be tiring or not? Asked the teacher.

”Yes.” The children said in chorus.

”suppose, you went and visited him someday. What would you offer him for his work?” The teacher asked.

”Apples.” Said Angelina, ”and a chocolate milkshake.” added Aman.

”Good, he will feel so happy. But only food won’t help him, he needs to rest his hands for a break. Won’t he?, so what will he do for rest?” The teacher asked, and she went towards the board. She conjured a small house using the chalk.

”He will go there and sleep.” Sarthak said, ”Like us, right?”

”Yeah he will.” The teacher picked the book up, ”but if he didn’t to work again, then?”

”I think he can ask for a leave. Like we do.” Said the young lad,.

”He can, but the apples won’t reach to you quickly then. Would you mind that? Your apple pie would be baked after some days.” The teacher said, ”The milkshake won’t have it’s seasoning.”

”Yes.” Angelina thought, ”But, we also need to think about him, if it’s his will, can we let him have rest?”

”Yeah we can.” Sarthak said, ”He is our friend, we appreciate his work. Ma’am, he can rest. For sure.”

Sarthak’s eyes shone with friendliness for the man, the teacher felt proud about it.

”Ok, so let him rest, He would feel so good.” The teacher added with happiness., ”Rest would help him go back to work, and let his senses work again. In the same way, Anyone around you needs rest. They need to think, to believe, at a moment before taking the next action. That’s what still life poem hints at.”

The young lad now tried to concentrate.

”Ma’am, but the poem is son the wind and flowers, when did it say that?” Angelina asked, ”I have read it twice, the flower garden is a place the poet loves, their lines say it throughout.”

”I will read it again for you.” The teacher said.

The poem was,

’In the morning breeze,

which hands the memories to this house,

I have the essence of life,

ringing in heart, in this garden so lovely.

I bear no load in my eyes,

I shed old memories outside the gate,

still life,

paints before me, It hands the color of peace and harmony.”

”See this line.” The teacher says, ”The poet writes, ’I bear no load in my eyes’, that could mean that they don’t carry any emotional burden anymore. Eyes are the window of the world, if we feel that something is not letting us live like we do, that could act like a burden on us. Think about it, if your mother got sick, that would surely make you sad, like it does to me. This burden may make you feel uneasy, and you won’t act much like before. ”

”yes ma’am.” Sarthak said, his face hinted a bit of unease.

”So, at that moment you would stay calm, and let everything settle. Once your mother recovers, she would play with you, the family would go on vacation. You shall slowly and steadily lose the bad experience from your mind, I know. But, at that sad moment, being still would help you balance yourself. You would pray to the fire, you may even talk to her to lighten the sickness, everything helps. But being still would help you. If you cry, if you blame anyone, your mother won’t recover. She may feel a bit bad due to your uncontrolled temper, and she would console you.”

As the teacher’s speech completed, she could see a few children wiping their eyes.

”Is this what the poem means?” Sarthak asked in a sad voice, ”It’s so different, so vivid. Ma’am, you explained it so..so well.” The teacher went to sarthak, and she pulled a handkerchief out to wipe his eyes. The young lad held his hand, after a few minutes Sarthak handled himself.

The class was looking at him, The teacher went till her table and closed the book.

”children, I feel that we should end here. I will explain this poem tomorrow, do bring your books, ok?”

The teacher asked.

”Yes, ma’am.” Said the young lad along with the other students.

The teacher then took the doubts other children had, the young boy was still in an emotional state. The story of ”still life” poem made him think a lot of possibilities hidden in the line. It also appeared linked to the lyric he remembered, it was not by the same poet though. The feeling and images did appear to intersect, and the young boy found the need to look into the secret.

Still life.