ALSphere Foundation
Meera was again amidst the hills, her favorite destination, which brought her the “Calm”. She came every year to this small town in the lap of beautiful snowy hills whenever she felt inspired to write again. She knew this was the place of stories. She wrote her first story here, then another one, and then another one. There was a strong bond that Meera shared with this place.
She took her notebook and walked towards the lake, her chosen spot to be with herself. She sat under the tree as she soaked in the sultry breeze. Love bloomed between a couple, who sat holding hands under a tree. The leaves danced on the tunes of the air as the branches swayed.
It was tedious for Meera to spend the evenings by the lakeside. She had created a few characters in her story, but something was missing. She couldn’t figure out what it was. She kept going and coming to the lake, and a few days went by, but she couldn’t seam through the missing weaves.
All of a sudden one day, an idea struck her mind. She slipped her feet into the guff boots, took her stole, and rushed to the lake with her notebook. It was the same sight almost every day. She admired nature, felt the fragrance, and glanced at the children splashing the lake water.
She sat at her favorite spot and took out her notebook to write. A few hours and she almost reached the climax of her story. She felt something, she didn’t know what it was, but the airs became moist. It went unusually quiet. She looked around, and she found herself alone.
It was just one child who was standing facing the lake. She walked towards him and tapped his shoulder. He was all wet. Water was dripping from his clothes, and his shoes squished as he turned around.
Meera asked him, “Are you not going home?”
He nodded, “No.”
Meera: “Why? All your friends are already gone.
He was indifferent to Meera.
Meera, “Are you scared of your mom, that she will scold you for getting wet”?
He nodded in Yes.
Meera: “I will walk you home and plead your mom not to scold you. Is that OK? You should not stay here for long.”
He moved back and started to walk along Meera.
As they walked, Meera asked him many questions. He always asked a question in return but never answered.
After walking for around half an hour, Meera asked him, “Where do you stay? Where are we going?
He continued to walk and stopped at a crematorium. The squishing of his shoes was still evident, and water was still dripping from his clothes.
Meera: It has been more than half an hour, but why can’t you get dry?
Boy (looking at the crematorium): I stay here since they threw me into the lake. People like me can never get dried.”
