• santor_674 44w

    A MEMOIR

    Sunshine dazzled over a small aperture in my casement which camouflaged my dark curls and gleamed it into a brunet. Whilst , I was stirring my cup of espresso whose aroma quivered over my nostrils.

    The sun painted an exquisite mosaic with vivid hues of carmine , salmon and amber mending themselves together with several contours of the environment.

    I settled myself over the lawn chair with the enthralling sip of the hazel espresso with a naturally sweet savour. When the zephyr swished over it , the liquid grew vibrant making waves. My hands felt quite cold and numb and my feet felt chilly because of the moist grass blades watered an hour before.

    The evening seemed pleasant with the resonance of chime of the Japanese bells wavering back and forth but at a sudden an unpleasant creaky sound heard when the birds fell asleep over the branches by the sun's caress over their soft feathers.

    I followed the sound disturbing the whole sense of silence and found it to resonate from the old banyan tree with an empty cage hanged over the part of its bough.

    A rusted iron cage , oscillating for years , still remains strong. Though the birds kept in there were let free years bygone - their fragrance ; their obscure withered feathers; their mellifluous chirps ; the scraped remnants of the bars by them remain still in that empty cage which is now completely crowded with their imaginary presence.

    As I see them, nostalgia hit the Garth of the withered roses of my heart which poured down the fluid of empathies into unusual tears.
    ' Circling 'round the Banyan tree ; we search of a place to conceal ourselves to win over "hide and seek" but everytime we hide behind the tree, the caged birds chirp aloud in excitement ruining our game. Our mothers would come about when we sit exhausted to make us feel pleasant with the soft kisses and enchanting mango shake. '
    And now it's 6:06 pm , I stand before a filled yet empty cage!

    // How innocent we were in our childhood of thinking ourselves to be enclosed and caged in the lap of our mothers contradicting the fact of our present where we are caged within our uncertainties in a large dorm of four walls//

    //Childhood flavoured of a rich liquor never brewed that stayed in our lingua even after years of experience ; while adulthood flavoured of a Barley Wine - all bitter//

    I realised from the empty cage of how uncertain we are - for we had been betwixt paradoxes - where at one side we feel elated for a hopping caged bird and at the other side , mourn for a bird that flew high above with its flock just before being enclosed by the verge of death!

    #mosaicc #childhood #paradox #imagery #combination

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