The edges of Tillu's corridor ..
The clouds looked very heavy, ash black and soot silvery, fluffy bursting with promise of wet afternoon to come by.. Nytili looked at clouds for a long while.. observing how the edges looked silver and grey .. with a black border .. as she noticed.. slowly the sky started turning to be flattened in her vision.. it lost all the dimensions and promises. .. as the anticipation started to subside the background looked very much like beautiful dull ash blue and flat... and clouds appeared to be moving, engorged and looming With possibilities.. she tried to clear her head.. wondering about the effect of whether rain falls or not and how much on crops .. in her farms. birds and animals moved with desperation to find shelter in rain.. everything moved as if by silent panorama of winter morning.. only that, the cold then, now felt wet too in monsoon..
She has planted ground nut and.. beans..
She went in to her house.. set atop small earth rise around the outskirts of village. The walls were made in red brick pieces found in dump near brick foundry.. she remembered her grandfather and herself .. going to buy cheap bricks to put up more room to their house.. the walls were created in three layers and were quite strong, if not she would loose her shelter roof like some houses in vicinity .. she winced.. she didn't have money to put up even a single door let alone a wall and roof if it would blow away in storm.. she felt light headed with zest at self exaggeration in her thoughts.. she smiled.. she had money but not to add roof.. she has decided to buy an oxan and one cow.. she promised herself..
She took out the piece of tarpaulin and ropes to tie at the open side of shade .. she didn't want .. Tingu .. her cow to get cold in night. The interior was bright as she had kept lamps on because of wheather the sky was dark and hardly any light escaped clouds.. let alone reach in the interior room.. She remembered her grandfather and felt a lump rise in her throat.. he was such kind hearted person.. and efficient at constructing their house.. The shade was supported by walls from two sides.. and having enough supporting stumps.. it was as sturdy as their house as well..
she remembered.. being afraid that her house would fall in during her first monsoon alone.. the winter before when her grandfather passed away.. she did not know that her house was strong enough to never fall .. in the night. The longest of her life. The neighbours told her.. next day that her house was strong .. it will not fall.. and then she remembered the layers of bricks.. understanding that her house was strong.. built by her grandfather to stand up through weather..
Her Grandfather bailed about the fact that she didn't have a husband.. and that she was going to be alone forever once he is gone.. Dhakhlo worried.. " my daughter.. u would be lonely after i am gone.. it's so horrible that i wasn't able to find an appropriate groom for you.. my beloved daughter.. "
Nytili: it's alright.. grandpa. I am better alone.
Dhakhalo: only that i have always trusted your uncle Geemji to take care of you once i am gone..
Nytili: yes he is best among all our neighbours..
Nytili's neighbourhood was full of their relatives.. all lived nearby with smaller pieces of land .. farmers.. all the farmhouses though in the shouting range of vicinity from each other.. Nytili thought..
.. it seemed as if her grandfather veiled about not being heard when in need.. only it seemed further as if it was about her being old and cold in a picture of no body hearing her croaking .. she smiled wryly at the ... tragic.. .. picture.
Dhakhalo: i hope you could do well after i passed away..
Nytili: enough of such talking .. i will be fine.. always.. please don't keep beating about .. me not finding a husband.. i am old now 28.. who will marry me.. i am better on my own instead of getting married with some wrong kind accidentally ..
Tingu's baying did her pull out of her memories .. and she tried to blink.. she thought.. she was lucky to be able to do farming well... as her grandfather had taught her everything..
neighbours said she was even exceled Dhakalo, able to tell right time for plough and seeding.. it was auspicious timing letting her crops blooming and profitable farming.. they even started following her happily as and when by her plough and seeding.. by the time two years of her grandfather's death.. she had went up through three lush full seasons with appropriate timing.. making her profit twice as much.. also through selection of crop.. by the third year.. her neighbours started to follow her .. and even ask suggestion for planting and winding.. another two years gone.. and by third year they started coming to her with .. the clay pot alight with small diyas after following her first roll on planting.. they silently put the small pots covered with similar red clay disks.. sparkling shining shimmering.. light from inside the pots.. .. at the edge of corridor of her house.. and went away silently.
This winter she had turned 35.. after six years of her grandfather's departure .. she felt a Trimbling in her bones.. the lightning bolted.. .. in six years her slight estimations never had gone wrong.. she felt good so about this time too.. the crop was yet to be cropped .. and after one cutting .. a single round will make appropriate.. watering.. as well.. enough.. big seedling.. will turn up soon..
She tied tarpaulin at the open side of shade and covered the wet floor with hay, that she stored in the room next to connecting passage between the shade and boundry wall.. .. Tingu squawked softly as she rubbed and put out feed for it .. and went in house to count coins from clay pots of this year...
(This short story is written to enhance my writing skills, and bears no offence to any other text)
The clouds looked very heavy, ash black and soot silvery, fluffy bursting with promise of wet afternoon to come by.. Nytili looked at clouds for a long while.. observing how the edges looked silver and grey .. with a black border .. as she noticed.. slowly the sky started turning to be flattened in her vision.. it lost all the dimensions and promises. .. as the anticipation started to subside the background looked very much like beautiful dull ash blue and flat... and clouds appeared to be moving, engorged and looming With possibilities.. she tried to clear her head.. wondering about the effect of whether rain falls or not and how much on crops .. in her farms. birds and animals moved with desperation to find shelter in rain.. everything moved as if by silent panorama of winter morning.. only that, the cold then, now felt wet too in monsoon..
She has planted ground nut and.. beans..
She went in to her house.. set atop small earth rise around the outskirts of village. The walls were made in red brick pieces found in dump near brick foundry.. she remembered her grandfather and herself .. going to buy cheap bricks to put up more room to their house.. the walls were created in three layers and were quite strong, if not she would loose her shelter roof like some houses in vicinity .. she winced.. she didn't have money to put up even a single door let alone a wall and roof if it would blow away in storm.. she felt light headed with zest at self exaggeration in her thoughts.. she smiled.. she had money but not to add roof.. she has decided to buy an oxan and one cow.. she promised herself..
She took out the piece of tarpaulin and ropes to tie at the open side of shade .. she didn't want .. Tingu .. her cow to get cold in night. The interior was bright as she had kept lamps on because of wheather the sky was dark and hardly any light escaped clouds.. let alone reach in the interior room.. She remembered her grandfather and felt a lump rise in her throat.. he was such kind hearted person.. and efficient at constructing their house.. The shade was supported by walls from two sides.. and having enough supporting stumps.. it was as sturdy as their house as well..
she remembered.. being afraid that her house would fall in during her first monsoon alone.. the winter before when her grandfather passed away.. she did not know that her house was strong enough to never fall .. in the night. The longest of her life. The neighbours told her.. next day that her house was strong .. it will not fall.. and then she remembered the layers of bricks.. understanding that her house was strong.. built by her grandfather to stand up through weather..
Her Grandfather bailed about the fact that she didn't have a husband.. and that she was going to be alone forever once he is gone.. Dhakhlo worried.. " my daughter.. u would be lonely after i am gone.. it's so horrible that i wasn't able to find an appropriate groom for you.. my beloved daughter.. "
Nytili: it's alright.. grandpa. I am better alone.
Dhakhalo: only that i have always trusted your uncle Geemji to take care of you once i am gone..
Nytili: yes he is best among all our neighbours..
Nytili's neighbourhood was full of their relatives.. all lived nearby with smaller pieces of land .. farmers.. all the farmhouses though in the shouting range of vicinity from each other.. Nytili thought..
.. it seemed as if her grandfather veiled about not being heard when in need.. only it seemed further as if it was about her being old and cold in a picture of no body hearing her croaking .. she smiled wryly at the ... tragic.. .. picture.
Dhakhalo: i hope you could do well after i passed away..
Nytili: enough of such talking .. i will be fine.. always.. please don't keep beating about .. me not finding a husband.. i am old now 28.. who will marry me.. i am better on my own instead of getting married with some wrong kind accidentally ..
Tingu's baying did her pull out of her memories .. and she tried to blink.. she thought.. she was lucky to be able to do farming well... as her grandfather had taught her everything..
neighbours said she was even exceled Dhakalo, able to tell right time for plough and seeding.. it was auspicious timing letting her crops blooming and profitable farming.. they even started following her happily as and when by her plough and seeding.. by the time two years of her grandfather's death.. she had went up through three lush full seasons with appropriate timing.. making her profit twice as much.. also through selection of crop.. by the third year.. her neighbours started to follow her .. and even ask suggestion for planting and winding.. another two years gone.. and by third year they started coming to her with .. the clay pot alight with small diyas after following her first roll on planting.. they silently put the small pots covered with similar red clay disks.. sparkling shining shimmering.. light from inside the pots.. .. at the edge of corridor of her house.. and went away silently.
This winter she had turned 35.. after six years of her grandfather's departure .. she felt a Trimbling in her bones.. the lightning bolted.. .. in six years her slight estimations never had gone wrong.. she felt good so about this time too.. the crop was yet to be cropped .. and after one cutting .. a single round will make appropriate.. watering.. as well.. enough.. big seedling.. will turn up soon..
She tied tarpaulin at the open side of shade and covered the wet floor with hay, that she stored in the room next to connecting passage between the shade and boundry wall.. .. Tingu squawked softly as she rubbed and put out feed for it .. and went in house to count coins from clay pots of this year...
(This short story is written to enhance my writing skills, and bears no offence to any other text)
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