THE MEADOW MEMORIES

 

Based on true events of my childhood

A warm winter day. Clouds floated the clear blue sky in all shapes; avoiding the wrath of the wind, they drift atop the faraway mountains, occasionally challenging to face the wind and eventually vanishing behind. The village nestled along the slope never failed to catch the earliest sunrays. Several bubbling brooks joined each other flowing downstream-  the lush green all along the stream could be seen from far distance. The vultures and crows settled on the rocky peaks and tall trees never failing to circle the valley during mid noon, at times making quick swoops to prey upon the slow and dreamy creatures.

It was about time already.

For sometimes now, the sheep bleated; at times in unison and mostly at complete randomness. I sat on the edge of the courtyard comfortably cushioned on my slippers pricking walnuts I had just cracked open missing my thumb by the hair. My eyes were stuck to the pond to chance upon a passing cloud whence I would scatter and dismiss it with a single throw merging it with the rippling waves- the first victory of the day.

“You little scoundrel! Are you waiting for your father?” a harsh voice came ringing from behind.

I dared not look back. It was my old man. Hurriedly I pocketed the nuts and ran off barefoot towards the pen. 

“You bloody sheep, eternally hungry!”, I swore under my breath. A few felt the heat of my catapult as I drove the flock towards the meadow. I stole a glance towards the courtyard. 

I would come back for my slippers later.

The winter holidays had just begun.

I drove the flock downhill trying to keep up with it. The meadow looked majestic with the morning sunrays shooting through the dewy leaves. The smell of fresh leaves, decaying barks and the dry hay floated with the wind along with the occasional chirping of birds. The sheep halted by the brook to quench their thirst before spreading out like thin clouds in the sky. I climbed the nearest tree and began scanning the horizon. Jay waved from the distance as he started taking rapid strides towards me. I climbed down and there stood Jay with a wide grin holding his button less shirt together. The smile was an invitation for mischief of the day.

I am in. Let’s get started!

That wasn’t said.

I attended a missionary high school far off from my village and stayed away visiting only during the vacations while he studied at the village primary school. Jay rarely went to the classes for he had better things to do – look after his toddler sister, tend to the flock and conduct household chores while his parents waged. We had struck quite a chord which evolved into a quiet friendship and partnership in crime. Their cottage stood on the edge of the village – a small thatched single room – always at the mercy of the heavy rains and fierce winds. There were enough patches on the roof to let sunlight flood the entire house. The single window faced the green lush meadow while the door opened to the deep gorge on the other side. During summers when the river flowed in full one could hear the forceful sound of water swirling and cutting through the rocks. I always liked it here – I felt at peace. 

 “I thought you owned a pair of slippers!” he broke the silence looking down at my bare feet.

“Ah! That...! I wanted to give you company. Besides it makes climbing trees easier.” I smiled. 

Jay pulled out his catapult and showcased his latest inventory – the perfectly round pellets. He was always better than me at such stuffs and we mostly used it to shoot down berries for we preferred the winged creatures alive than dead.

I have discovered the perfect hunting spot, Jay said breathlessly as we made our way towards the river as fast as we could. He led the way and I followed after him keeping up with his brisk steps. It was fishing day and it was important to look out for the breeding spots for we were not equipped to trap those sly creatures. There, sunlight barely reached; during mid-day fishes would come out crawling lazily to bath in the warm sun and then we would seize our moment capturing them with bare hands. Later, with the disappearing sun we would count and distribute the loot with the widest pirate grins only to find that the flock had strayed away in our absence and made their way to the farms. Another day of thrashing lay in wait as we drove the flock back home. Nevertheless, it was a daily routine being called a worthless good for nothing fellow and as the cane came down swishing through the air landing on my bottom with a slap knocking the dust off my pants all I could think was the adventure that awaited tomorrow. 

Days went by and we would keep knocking our heads into troubles one after another, one mischief after another. Sometimes it was the fruit stealing at the orchard, lighting fire on the hay stacks, bullfights and sometimes the branches snapped sending us down in tumbles with twisted ankles. More than the act itself it was the planning that amused and excited us. 

The most vivid memory I have of those innocent days or maybe not so innocent days is the kite project. We ventured on making kites; the ones that would actually fly and after many futile efforts, we actually managed to perfect one; the best any two 12 yr. olds would accomplish. The first one wouldn’t take off; the paper material was too heavy for the wind to carry. Strings were uneven on the second one and the third one had some issues with the tail. However, we were not the ones to give up; I set off on a quest to find the thinnest plastic sheet rumbling over the nook and corners of my house at odd hours while jay worked on thinning the bamboo sticks and crafting the harness. It took us days of patience and stealing until we had acquired everything we needed and all the while the sheep kept disappearing.

It was D- Day.

“The wind is perfect!” 

“It could not be better”, I nodded assuring him. I usually went with Jay in matters that I couldn’t quite follow. 

We stood in the middle of the grazing field judging the wind not quite understanding it. Jay unreeled a length of the line while I held the kite by the corners. On his signal, I loosened my hold and he broke into a run; the kite followed after him; I held my breath as the tail fluttered feverously. After some struggle, the wind lifted and the kite took off on its maiden flight. I was beside myself with joy leaping and clapping as the kite soared higher and higher until it became still and me with it. Jay kept tugging on the line every now and then and then released some tether; after a while he handed over the reel winder and focused himself on the control line. We looked at each other and smiled. 

At one time an eagle came too close and Jay had to display the ultimate maneuver to avoid an encounter. We swore to wreak havoc on the eagle’s nest and went back to the mission. 

Suddenly, Jay felt silent. A serious expression dawned on his face.

“We have failed” he said, disappointed- “the line has snapped!” 

The joy was short lived as the line came down twirling midair and the kite suddenly freed off the anchor began a dance on its own. There was nothing to be done now; it couldn’t be helped. Tired and disappointed we lied on the ground facing the sky, fixating our eyes on the kite twisting and turning; it was too precious to just let it go. The grass felt soft on our backs; the wind brushed across our faces; the vast emptiness seemed to give us solace; the kite rose higher and drifted further until it disappeared into the horizon. It was free and the sky seemed to gently accept her into the never-ending expanse. 

“Someday, I would like to fly a plane. And just like that kite, be free!” Jay said as quietly as he could. It was as if he read my mind.  

“And I want to be an aeronautical engineer”

“What’s that? “

“Well, they make those planes”

“I am sure you’ll make a fine one.”

The dreamy thoughts brought back our smiles and we no longer lamented on our loss. Just like the kite, we felt free; and with that newly acquired freedom we closed our eyes to the blues and entered our own world as the pale-yellow sun made its way home- o’er the hills.

As I climbed back home that evening, I had no idea I was seeing Jay for the last time. The vacation had ended and I went back to school. Jay was taken away by some distant relatives of his who would cloth, feed and provide him education. We never got to say goodbye. It was many years later I got news of him.

My mother related me the incident.

“You know these rich filthy people. They must have made a servant of him; the boy couldn’t take it; he hanged himself; Poor lad, he was a good one.”

My throat ran dry and my eyes filed. I clenched my fist, looked up at sky and cursed God. Voice never escaped my throat.

That evening I made my way down to the meadow. I took heavy steps and reached the same old spot. I lied down and stayed there until dusk fell. The moon rose on the horizon flooding the earth with soothing light accompanying the soft evening breeze. The moonlight drowned all but the brightest stars; I imagined Jay to be amongst them. He was now truly free. 

As I began retracing my steps back home I saw a shooting star; the brightest I had ever seen. It passed right over his house. In my imagination, it was a celestial kite that had broken free of the string. it was now free too. 

I took a long, deep breath. 

And then a whisper into the night.

“So long, dear friend! Until I have my freedom too!”

(In the fond memory of a dearest friend long lost but never forgotten.)

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to the earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to the earth, I knew not where;

For who has the sight, so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of a song?

Long, long afterwards, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroken;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

H W Longfellow