Story of Little Elm

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story. All the characters are fictional. The incident itself is a creation. Any resemblance to people or to the situations in the real world, is purely coincidental.

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She felt like the prettiest girl on the planet, when he looked at her that way. When his hands touched her, she shivered in reverence at that delicate touch. When he fed her, his kindness melted into her, making her weak in her knees. When he dressed her up, she felt that she is the luckiest girl on the planet.

She did not care that she was in a glass cage, she did not care that she would never get to know anything beyond the glass cage. She was content watching him every single moment of her life. She was content to be taken in hand and trimmed to shape and made weak in her knees. She knew that he cared for her, she construed that to be love. And she was happy.

One day, she was taken to the outside, into the garden. He was holding her and that was all that mattered. He put her down in the cozy green grass, while he took out a shovel. She worried that he would bury her there and when he started digging a hole, she felt depressed. She started losing her color and feeling pale. She looked withered and by the time he dug a hole to bury her, she looked dead too. He took one look at her and decided that she needed additional attention and so, he took her back to his room and placed her on the window sill. She started breathing again, her color retained and she looked happy too. She felt that he read her well and that he knew exactly what was good for her.

Every day, he gave her water and for that one sip of water, she felt grateful to him. But, she wanted more. She wanted him to spend time with her, to whisper in her ears, to sing for her, to dance with her, to tell stories to her, to show her to his friends. She waited for him to do that. One day, he brought his friends over and they had fun, while she looked on, to see, if he would introduce her to them. He and his friends were not interested in her. Not once, did he looked at her. Not once! How dare he!

She was frustrated. For the first time, she wanted to show him that she needed attention. She wanted to scream at him for being so unkind as to shut her off completely. She looked down at herself. She still looked pretty, with a sturdy build and trimmed leaves, she looked pretty in her glass cage. She did not understand why he would ignore her! She turned to look out of the window, while she fumed in hurt. She gazed into a far off land, not really seeing anything. He left the room, along with his friends and she felt alone. She looked back to see if there was a note on her glass cage, his handprint which usually lingered when he touched the cage. She was disappointed. She turned her back and looked out of the window, now noticing for the first time, the vastness and the hugeness of the nature spanned infront of her. She saw the hole he dug for her. She looked past that hole to see a huge tree, smiling down at her. The tree looked pretty too.

“You alright, little Elm?”, she asked.

She was too startled to answer. She looked at the huge tree, which continued to look at her with kindness. “Yes, I … I … “, she stuttered, looking a bit out of place and flustered.

“You know, the kindness these people show you is fantastic. But, there is nothing like freedom. There is nothing like the warmth of a mother’s womb. When he dug this hole for you, he was giving you a chance to embrace that! But, you looked unhappy. So he took you back. But, why are you unhappy now?”, she asked.

Elm looked on at the kind old lady and pondered over her words. She grew restless as she thought about them. She was stuck in a glass cage, with her world wrapped in a tiny block of glass, with her feet in artificial mud and her leaves and roots, trimmed to fit this shape while her brothers and sisters are out there, living a carefree life, with their feet buried deep into the mother earth and standing tall and dancing with the children. She looked at herself and realized, she made the choice of staying in this glass cage, because she loved him. She wanted to be with him. She felt miserable knowing that she is missing the possibilities out there, in the free world, while she chose to stay with him.

He returned home and he lay on his bed. She looked on and not once did she see him turn his head towards her. No sorry either, for not introducing his friends. No sorry for not talking to her the entire day. No sorry that he had not fed her. She felt sorry for herself. He was supposed to love her and be her world. She looked on at him, wondering why she felt out of sorts.
The next day, he hurried out of the door, having woke up late, yet again, for his office. He really should get his priorities right, she sighed. Damn, she loved him. But, she was thirsty. The meagre spoon of water she had a couple of days ago was not helping her and he did not feed her today. Her will was snapping and she was withering and he was not there to hold her hands through it all! She was losing consciousness too. She was hyperventilating, but there was no one to help her now.

When he came home, his little Elm looked dead. He cursed and fed her a glass of water. She felt choked, the water is not going in. she tried to tell him that he was pouring too much down her throat, but he was not looking at her. He was talking on the phone. She was furious. She tried to stomp her feet, but they refused to budge from the soil. She was choking and her spasms increased. She was feeling suffocated and she looked to him for help. But he was busy on the phone. She looked on. She thought back to all the days when he fed her, every day. She recollected his face, the expressions that he had when he spent time with her. She realized with shock, that he had always been like this. He had always been this self-absorbed. He did not look at her, he did not care that she looked pretty. He just cut her to shape, because he wanted her to stay in the cage. She was hurt beyond words when she realized, she was held captive all this time and she was a willing prisoner. As she realized she was in on her last breath, she felt pity on herself, for wasting her life, fantasizing on her perception of him, rather than seeing the facts. She suddenly realized, she was not even pretty. She was small, she has no self-worth, she was being fed, by a person who took care of her, perhaps out of pity and not out of love! Her world, as she knew, came crashing down. She lost her consciousness again!

When she woke up, she found herself in a yard, sprawled nude. She was embarrassed beyond reason, when she looked around and heard the snickers of her fellow companions, her brothers and sisters, looking at her, with amusement.

“Get up. You are not alone there little sister. We are here for you. You can do it. Grab on that Carbondioxide, there is plenty of it here. We can help you live, if you make little effort. We are here for you, holding your hand, to take you to our mother, who will nurture you back to health and royalty. It is a huge process, but you need to take baby steps. But, first, you need to take a step, to believe in yourself and believe in your worth.”
Despite her weakness, she tried holding on, grabbing onto anything that can give her a chance to see him once. She heard the word of advice, but they just don’t understand. She cannot survive without seeing him with her eyes, every single moment, even though he cares little whether she survived or not. She held on and gazed past her companions, into the small window. Her eyesight wavered, but she held on to the hope, to see his face and go into heaven.

“Breathe!”

There he is, her charming prince. She looked at him in content and she felt she could close her eyes now. She looked down and saw that there was another Elm in the glass cage, drinking a spoon of water from his hand, looking ecstatic. Elm jolted out of her weakness. She realized she was replaced with a look-alike, nevertheless replaced. She was not precious after all. She withered and he threw her out, presuming that she is dead and moved on, while she held on to his memories.
“C’mon, you can do it, breathe”, she heard someone day.

“Oh, poor baby, look how weak you are. I am here now, I can take care of her. You all have chores to do, get moving”, she heard a voice call out and looked around. Everyone of her brother and sister went back to their chores. She looked for the source of her voice, when she felt a warmth rise into heart. She felt her feet covered and she was glad for the heat. She was being fed, with a different sort of food. She wanted more. Perhaps, the voice heard her, because she was having more. She looked at herself and realized, what it means to be home and in mother’s warmth, for her feet are buried deep in soil and her mother wrapped herself around her, providing her warmth and food. She sighed, content!

My tryst in a tempest

It seems like a dull day. Not that the place is dull or that the morning is dull, it is all bright and sunny and warm, just a right day to play a sport or walk around with friends or just hang out or read a book or do anything other than procrastinating. And it is not that I do it often, but I got up this morning with a dull ache in my heart, for some reason. Perhaps this is what people call being home sick. I never realized I am that sort of a person. New place excites me a lot. I love to meet new people, I love to explore the surroundings, I love the independence that comes with being alone in a strange place. I feel it to be an opportunity to see how I fare and how I react to the situations. But, this time it seems different.

Walking around the Mississippi river, along the bridge gave me a reminder of one other experience I had, the one that made me an altogether different person, the one that exposed a different side of me to myself, the one where I was carefree and enjoyed the challenge of a new place. It reminded me of the lone walks, the casual conversations, the respect of the strangers and above all, it reminded me what it means to live with people of different communities and back grounds and explore in subtle way the unity in diversity. Here and now, the familiarity of the people, yet the strangeness that revolves around them, knowing that we come from some common back ground, but have different perspectives and feelings for life is not so much of a comfort. It is not a comfort to know that you have people to talk to too. Why? Isn’t it strange that the comfort is not comforting?

A bright morning is clouded by nothing more than the thoughts that are revolving in my head, half of them that have to do with me living up to my own expectations. This is not the promise that I made to myself when I came here. But then, it sometimes is not all about promises, isn’t it? From afar, the land looks green and beautiful, but once you land there and walk around, you notice that the path is unclear, that the beauty in the scenery is because it was uninhabited, the limited paths that exist are those of the passing travellers who left their footprints for some stranger, who walks in those paths on some random day, forming their own impressions, all the while, leaving something for someone to ponder upon and to take it into their life. You also notice that the beauty is no longer a beauty but a trap to invite you into the depth of the paths intertwined with emptiness. Above all, it is the loneliness that adds to the beauty of those unexplored paths. And that is a pinnacle one has to enjoy to hold themselves together.

I progress along these uneven lands, my tryst with the tempest, hoping to find a shore that is my pinnacle, be it loneliness or grandeur and be it with the crowd or without. Of course, sometimes, solitude is a crowd in itself. The voice(s) that one hears is a company in itself. These are phases in life, that I do enjoy the most, particularly because there is somewhere inside this tiny person, an alter ego that urges me, on the side of caution, to persevere despite the pressing burden. I love that person, I love that sanity. So, good luck to me!

Another phase: A trip to the US of A

There is something absolutely thrilling when a dream comes true. I am here, in USA and it is unbelievable. The journey to the place was tiring, but it did not take much time for me to adjust, thanks to being aware of the ordeal. How I came to be here is a different story, but being here definitely makes me feel the excitement of a ten year old kid about to go to a circus!

Minneapolis is a beautiful place. On the offset, it does not look secure or safe, but, beneath all those gory feelings, the place is absolutely gorgeous, with its lovely surroundings and amazing buildings. My first take of the place is that it is extremely beautiful, albeit reserved in its welcome to strangers! And for the record, public transport in the US is really sad and bad. From an ecological perspective, it would save a ton of petrol/diesel/gas if the transport in the US improves. Just saying.And ofcourse, the rent is exorbitant, but that comes with not knowing the place. Leaving out the mundane details aside, I have a beautiful view of the skyline of Minneapolis and a view of the Mississippi river and a perfect view of the traffic that flows around the place. I love watching all the three. It is fascinating to be lost in the clouds, that are clear and look warm. Summer is beautiful when it does not show its wrath. And the traffic is something I do not get tired to watch and it is fascinating to see the order with which the traffic moves in this place. Coming from India, it certainly is a refreshing pace.

Winter, a couple of months down the line, I was told, is pretty harsh and the first winter might be particularly harsh. I really do not like the cold and I have absolutely no clue as to how I landed myself in this part of the US, where the winter is the coldest. Ofcourse, there is a silver lining that I get to see the snow, but then again, I was told, it would be a snow desert for a good six months, so I would eventually get tired of it. Well, whatever anyone says, I am pretty excited about it and I am looking forward to it, though I might change the tune when it really comes down to it. LOL.

But, most of all, I am excited about seeing New York. For some reason, watching CSI NY drove me to the point of desperate measures to see this place. Ofcourse, watching a crime scene investigation gives me little chance to see the surroundings, when there is a murder suspense to unveil, but then, I am good at observing things, particularly architecture and New York is the place to see it. I am not sure when I would get a chance to see this place, but I will have to see it before I return back home. I am super excited about it.

On a side note, I am working on something I have absolutely no clue about, so catching up on it will take most of my initial time and ofcourse, a place to stay is still vague for now. And yeah, the possibility of seeing Vampire Diaries while it telecasts is like, super thrilling for me. That is another thing I am excited about.

So lets see how this phase of my life goes…