Still loved… Still Missed! – Short Story with Moral Values
Still loved… Still Missed! – Short Story with Moral Values
I loved the place. I loved my work. I loved the people who came to me. I loved the water, the wind and the sunshine. I loved everything around me.
If you are wondering who I am, let me introduce myself, I am a coracle, a bamboo coracle! (If you still didn’t get me, remember some movie scenes , like the song scene in Roja or Kalapani! I hope you got me now, and wonder not about this description, these were the words I once heard from some college students who had visited the village, boarding me!)
I was made by the unknown; as I don’t know my maker, his or her name or whereabouts. But I have heard some passengers telling that it was so easy to make me if they could get all necessary things. You may be wondering, how I am able to follow human’s language! I also used to wonder. I love them, I don’t know whether it is out of my love that I understand their spoken words and sometimes the unspoken ones too. May be, all coracles can understand humans, that’s what I think!
As I didn’t have any other coracle companions here, I couldn’t ask about it so far.
If you wanted to know my timeline, all what I could say is this; I was here when I was born. Since then I have been carrying people, mostly, sometimes small goods, and very rarely small animals, across the river many times a day. On one side of the river, it was the small village named Sitapur. Whenever the villagers needed to reach the nearby town, for their work, for shopping or selling their products, and for other emergencies, they had to cross the river, with my help, unless someone decided to swim across. There were some school going children too, I knew them all, especially that small boy in blue trousers and white shirt. He always smiled at me whenever he came near me. Whenever he got down he waved his small hand, you know, it was to me and only to me. He loved me and I loved him too.
I loved all my clients, big and small. I was not paid for my work. There was no one to sail me with an ore. I just rested in one or the other bank. There stretched a thick rope across the river. The people who boarded me, moved forward clutching the rope.
But sometimes I just lay useless at any bank when someone in the other bank needed me. They could use me only when a person moved me to theirs’. I didn’t know why the villagers were not buying some more coracles. Or at least they could employ a ferryman or someone who knew sailing. If so, I could reach any bank where people needed me. May be, they were very poor to do so. They made a living after much struggle and toil. There were only three or four people who could be labelled as educated in the place. I think, that was why their requests for a bridge over the river remained within the red tapes!Poor ignored mass!
Mostly I enjoyed moving in the water. The river spoke to me a lot while I moved through her. We were friends who gradually became lovers. But the last time when it rained, I found it too difficult to move peacefully. I didn’t feel that much force in the water any time before. The fearful passengers on losing control started shouting for help. I too was terrified, but nothing came out of me.
After that I didn’t sail for many days until the rains stopped, because no one moved, the children didn’t go to school, and I missed him, that little smiling boy. Later I heard a person saying about some new road that had been built somewhere, which blocked the river’s usual flow and that was why the river was furious with flood. I asked my river. The river was so sorry for almost blowing me, but she said she couldn’t help, the force was so enormous. Luckily, neither any human nor I were washed away.
But what would those people and I do this time when it rains and floods heavily? I was scared. I didn’t want to put any one in danger, neither did I want to get destroyed by the flood. I loved them and my river. I loved the place, where I wished to remain forever, I had found mates, some strong bonds. Once a young man was shouting to others ‘Power corrupts, bureaucracy stinks!’. I didn’t understand his words. But I think what he said was this, that the rulers were not doing anything to help the people in need and distress, in time.
Like them, I also wished someday a bridge came there so that they could travel safely during rains. I could sail during other times and rest on the bank during rains. But nothing was happening. The villagers’ plea remained unheard, unnoticed and unattended.
It was a fine morning. That day three men boarded me. I knew they were outsiders. Their looks and dress told that. I hadn’t seen them before. They didn’t talk while moving. They landed at the other bank .They were seen asking something to the people waiting there. One villager was showing some actions and speaking, maybe he was directing to someone’s house . Who were they? Why they came here?
In the evening, those three men returned. They were murmuring something among themselves. But I didn’t listen, because I saw the little smiling boy waiting for me at the other end. He had something in his hand other than his bag. I couldn’t see it clearly. When I moved near I saw, it was a puppy. His friends were requesting him to hand over the cute puppy, but he didn’t and held it more close to his chest. From where did he get it? May be from the way side. I was more worried than him thinking whether his parents would allow him to keep it at home.
The three men got down and the children boarded. It was so nice to enjoy the company of children, though they don’t know how much I loved them.
Days passed. I looked with surprise a group of new people who landed near the bank in big cars. They were investigating something. Surely they were from the town, and the three men who came to the village days before accompanied them. They boarded me and landed the other side. Hours spent on investigation there too. I didn’t understand their plan. But some villagers were after them, moving very obligingly. They might be some big officials or VIPs.
I heard a news some days after that, about a hanging bridge that was going to come there. I was happy as everyone, but I hadn’t heard about a hanging bridge before. The villagers appeared happy. I still didn’t have any idea whether they liked me or not, they were now talking only about the hanging bridge. Some said one of their great agonies would be over soon. Another said it would be indeed strong than they expected and they could travel without any worry about the weather. I smiled, in my own way.
It was a sunny day. I was resting on the bank. I was shocked to hear some strange sounds. I saw a group of working men landing in lorries and loads of materials dumping here and there. Steel ropes? Iron bars? And many other mysterious things, mysterious at least to me.
Men started working, some people who had come there earlier, visited the place very often. They shouted at the workers giving them instructions and evaluated the progress. The place became so busy with lot of rush and hustle, ha, part and parcel of construction work!
Still I was busy, I was carrying people and goods as usual. The bridge was for rainy season, and it was not monsoon yet, so I had to work.
Weeks flew. I saw a hanging bridge taking shape. The workers were doing finishing touches. The officials and engineers looked at the bridge with pride, so also the petty villagers. I heard someone saying that the bridge would be inaugurated the next day. But why now? It was for rainy season and the summer was not yet over.
I lay here on the bank . No one had come today. Why? As the morning sun became more radiant, I could see more people gathering near the hanging bridge, which was decorated with different coloured tapes and balloons, I spotted some familiar faces and many unfamiliar ones too…politicians, dignitaries and others. It was the inauguration ceremony of the bridge! I heard joyous shouts, and some threatening sounds, oh, fireworks! All were celebrating !I could see people moving to and fro the bridge hanging above me. But no one came to me that day, it was not an ordinary day, I thought they would come the next day….
Still loved… Still Missed! – Short Story with Moral Values
I counted every minute, every hour….then I counted days and weeks, no one came to me. No one then wanted me. They got something stronger, more reliable and more helpful, than me. I saw the usual travellers, moving on the bridge. No one looked at me. I waited eagerly for the school time. No child, not even my little smiling boy, looked at me. I lay on the bank in the sand. The heat was unbearable. I can’t even talk to the river, which would have been a happy thing.
It was evening. Some young men were walking lethargically beside me, I thought they came to see the bridge. Those rude men unkindly kicked me into the river. I lay there. I talked to my love. The river spoke soothing words. I felt okay for some time. But as the night set in, I couldn’t bear the cold. I wanted to go back to the bank, but I couldn’t. I told the river. She pushed me to the bank, but all efforts were in vain.
I remained in water. I knew it was not good. I saw some holes here and there on my body , I didn’t know when that had happened. Water was entering me. The bamboo weaves were getting loosened. On one side I saw signs of rotting. I wanted to go back to the bank. I wanted at least to see the villagers and the kids moving over the bridge. I wanted to be there. But then, I was drowning and rotting. I could see my sadness reflected in the river, she too was sad, but she couldn’t help me to get better.
I know, this is probably my last day. I am almost drowned. My underneath framework is almost wretched. Still, I look with hope at the bridge above me, whether someone passing over it is looking for me, at least that little smiling boy. Then I remember it is noon time. I can’t see him now. By the time he comes back from his school, I will be fully drowned. May be this is my last view of the place, of the bridge, of the people, of the river, of everything I loved…
I am drowning into depths, I see a hand waving from the bridge. Is that the little smiling boy? I can’t see him well, I wanted to wave back…But now the waving hand is seen no more… I wait… But the river pulls me with her loving hands into her fathomage, I lay there calmly with the belief, I am still loved, and still missed!
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