The Epic Past

About Swarna

I believe in the words being magical to find yourself different each time you write. Hello! Myself, Swarna , an undergraduate from Kolkata, love to write. I find myself better in expressing myself with the writings. Moreover, I love being social with everyone.

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The epic past reminded him about his memories. He used to walked down the lane at the evening to drop her at the bus stop. When it rained, she held his hand under the umbrella, shared their thoughts and waited there at the crossing looking at each other.

Yesturday the sky was overcasted with insane grey clouds. He was sitting beside the window, looking at the azure, thinking about her. May be she was his bygone, still memories alived her presence. He closed his eyes, pretended to feel her, in the dark room. But the violet flash stroke outside, ran into his deep thoughts.

He dressed up, ran down the street with the recollected memories. He hurried to the same street where they used to stand few days ago, desperate in finding her here and there to live his thoughts. The purity of love made him innocent. Small drops started drizzling from the grey mist. Perhaps his sufferings made the rain drops to be bigger and finally the heavy shower cleared out its way.

He was standing alone near the crossing. Tears-filled-eyes made no difference with the water drops rolling down over his cheeks.The frequent thunderstroke presented him as the flashback of five years of relatonship with her. Surprisingly he was trembling- perhaps trembling with the broken expectation of harsh reality. It was raining quite heavily. The automated traffic signals were the only unfortunate like him, to stand beside the roads in the heavy rain and control the traffic.

In course of time, the intensity of the rain started decreasing. The bus stop where they used to stand was gradually coming to his vision. He was moving slowly towards the stop. The busy world had possibly rested in peace in his thoughts.

Suddenly a fulminaton followed by a husky sound deepened down from the sky. The entire environment was seeming to be horrified. Down the road, a mob gathered near the bus stop. Few people was running to join the mob from different corners. Rain started to become heavier slowly. The haizy background, the lonely signals, empty streets again played their determined role but in addition due the rain water mixed up with blood was running down the street, he was lying over the street with a fractured body. A truck had run over him.

Severe injuries over his body confirmed everyone about his death. The body lay with opened eyes looming at the sky. His blood fertilised their memories which grew over 5 years but ended without a beutiful end. A stream of blood flow oiled with rain water floowed the slope towards the bus stop and ran into the cesspool.

Perhaps emotion affected humanity instead of humanity affecting emotion.


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2 Response Comments

  • Aparna Mondal25/08/2019 at 6:57 PM

    Very nice writing. Loved reading it.

  • Madhu Chhanda27/08/2019 at 12:55 PM

    Felt like a Note from heart….loved it

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