Saturday 28 February 2015

THE GIFTED ANALOGY: Revised; Opening Chapter -III

Don't be a coward. You are a grownup now. Be brave, you can do it.”

The words ringed in my ears. I knew that voice………Dave! I jerked to look around me. May be I was day dreaming, but I knew deep inside my soul that he was somewhere near me. It was although an instinctive gesture but I felt an urge to see him.

Like always, disappointment smirked at me. But I tried to absorb in his voice that always acted as the soothing blow of air to awaken my senses and open my mind to new horizons.

I closed my eyes to gather courage. Those words were magical. I gallantly went forward with the program numbing my senses else they could always lend strange uncanny possibilities to my brain.
The air was very cool and pleasant outside the airport. Europe was so astonishingly breathtaking that I could have never imagined any heaven so perfect. The greenery, the freshness, the atmosphere so pleasing and beautiful that it seemed as if its beauty was in its complete bloom and was welcoming me with all its warmth and love. I felt like ‘I was home!’

A few more hours of train journey gifted me more chances to explore the beautiful and magnificent place. It seemed as if the time had come to a halt. My eyes kept capturing the pictures of the gorgeous scenery and greenery all around. The openness, the vast fields that covered the horizon and bestowed the richness of the country were soothing for any vision. Far away, somewhere a glimpse of life assured that the world dwelling even in the remote and solitude places depicted the lifestyle full of fascination. My eyes failed to close, in spite of a long 8-hour journey from one continent to another.

Finally, the train stopped at Angelston. It was a small station with less people hovering around. My heart beat picked its acceleration. I looked around finding any soul. But it was quiet and empty. I could see some counters flashing the sign boards of refreshments, Cab, etc. I wondered if I was at the wrong place. India has always been so full of people that I never thought I could reach such an inhabitable place in Europe itself. My tears were ready to leap out of my eyes, when I saw a person sitting on the counter with the board of TAXI, written above it. I treaded there hurriedly.

“Hi, I need a cab.” I spoke still panting, mustering enough courage to help myself reach my destination. Thank God, there’s no male!

The lean girl with a round face looked at me through her tiny glasses and nodded. She called out behind her while handing me a ticket. A stout and large man leaped from behind and offered to take my luggage. I hesitated a bit.

‘You can do this, Sophie!’ Tears pricked my eyes. I sucked in a deep breath and called all my prayers while following him to the cab. My hands felt cold and my stomach churned as I sat on the seat.

“Where to?” His husky voice gave me a chill. I literally jumped on my seat hearing him talk.
I opened up my address diary to confirm Aunt Anna’s address.
“Mm, Saint Martin Street.” I stuttered. He nodded in response.

Gratefully, the driver was a quiet person. He didn’t utter anything the entire way. That gave my edginess some comfort. I could ease off and enjoy the way quietly, ignoring the fact that a stranger was driving the cab. I looked out of the window and grasped the view of the town. This place would be my shelter for next few weeks. I sighed.

Angelston was not what I had been expecting. It was a small town with the population not over 10,000. The travel guide I bought on the way told me that the town was built in the 14th century. It seemed as if it was a jumble of colors: grey-green hillsides of terraced olive groves; black-cypress forests; red-roofed town villas, under the magnificent blue sky.

Its architecture had a precision that was similarly jewel-like. It was filled with miniature Venetian Gothic and Renaissance palaces whose balconies almost touched above the narrow streets. The sky was covered with deep navy blue clouds that added to the ambiguity. So mysterious and enigmatic the view was that I almost forgot to keep a check on the way to Aunt Anna’s house.

The cab crossed a narrow street to reach a place where all the houses looked completely identical. Red-roofed, white walls, large windows with pale brown borders, were the distinct features of the houses. There were low, white fences all over to symbolize the territorial boundaries.

Aunt Anna lived all alone in one of those houses. I called out the number Twenty Six to the driver who pulled the car to the last house in the right row of the street. The house was, although the same, but the small garden in the front seemed well maintained with some lovely variety of flowers and shrubs. It was small yet quite pretty with the blend of vivid colors enhancing its dream like appearance. The blue painted, wooden main door possessed a tiny porch for a wooden chair to adjust its place between two white pillars that held the red slanting roof covering the open area and numerous small pots filled with tiny shrubs, herbs and plantations.

I wondered that if Aunt Anna was so unwell, then who helped her in taking care of the house and maintaining it for her. I knew about her lonely living as she never married anyone. It always made me wonder how she had led her life in complete solitude for over fifty years, without any family. Mom used to tell me that she went to UK for her further studies, when she was barely twenty and since then, she had been living in Angelston all by herself. Her career profile indicated that she had worked at the Prime University as their head professor and researcher for thirty five years, till her health seized to permit her any further exertion.

“Sophie, is that you?” A feminine voice called, as I was about to press the doorbell button.
A lean old woman opened the door. She looked much like my mother if their features were taken into consideration, but just a few years older. She was fair complexioned with light white hair, hanging on her shoulders, her large dark eyes twinkled with emotions. Overall, she had a very graceful look. Although age wise she was old, but her eyes had a spark of a young child. I glanced at her and wished deeply to look like her when I grow older. She was pretty and very serene with a strange heavenly glow of contentment.

Her fair-wrinkled face could not help much in hiding the happiness she felt when she saw me. Her eyes gleamed with joy and affection as she embraced me tightly. I automatically hugged her back, her warmth made me feel as if I was back home in the arms of my mom.
“Ah, my child!” Her voice was like a whisper.

“How was your journey, dear?” She smiled widely exposing her white teeth. “Look, how grown up you are!” Her painfully stretched lips indicated how excited she was to see me.

I sighed trying to absorb such a genuine affection in the place far away from my home.

“Aunt Anna, I am a mother now. That makes me a grown up.” I tried to reflect the same mood.

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