Zimmal’s eyes glistened with tears. She was too absorbed in her thoughts to be mindful of the darkness of the night or the rigors of the weather. But whenever she heard a thunderbolt striking the snow-capped peaks, she would startle and feel as if the lightning had struck her own heart.
While Zimmal was standing by her tent, the tented village was lit up by the lightning in the sky and she got a glimpse of the deserted streets. The streets were quiet but her own mind was disturbed. She looked up at the sky, then her eyes drifted to her tent which she could just make out in the dim light of the lantern-lit therein…
Zimmal’s crimson eyes suggested that she was all drenched in her thoughts— thoughts that ruled her in silence. Suddenly, a sweet, rhythmic, and soothing voice from her tent touched her ears & broke the silence around. It was humming of its own kind: soulful, heart touching, and divine. Zimmal’s eyes glistened; the laziness and tiredness of her being left her and her face glowed with the rush of blood in her veins.
Moved by the enchantment of the voice, she walked into the tent with deliberate and brisk steps. The humming grew in its intensity as she approached her tent, triggering the beats of her heart to beat even more faster…so much so that the clouds thought of asking Zimmal to lend her beats’ voice to the thunders of the sky.
Slowly, slowly, Zimmal tilted her head in the half-opened door of the tent and her heart skipped a beat. What a beautiful sight she saw!
There in the dim light, Zimmal saw her mother sitting beside the lantern and humming a lullaby while rocking a cradle. Zimmal’sface began to glow, even more, her lips quivered with her beautiful struggling smile and love poured from her eyes ( while looking at her mother) leaving her pupils dilated.
Zimmal could not resist the charm of her mother’s love and slowly, slowly, approached her mother.
While Zimmal’s mother was humming, she passed a slight smile, and with the move of her head, she invited Zimmal to lie her head in her lap. But she didn’t do so, she sat idle right in front of her mother and looked at her in her eyes, exchanging a thousand words with her mother in silence.
Zimmal presented a picture of a little dumb girl for her words that had gone into oblivion. She touched her mother’s face, kissed her & hugged her so tightly as if she hadn’t hugged her for a year… her mother in all her divinity, kissed her back on her forehead asking her,” what happened my moon, my flower, my princess.!”
Zimmal didn’t speak a single word and looked at her mom silently. She wanted to say something but began to sob and the lightning struck somewhere in the distance with a resounding noise and the whole landscape was ablaze with blinding light.
Zimmal’s mother wiped her tears saying “ you do know my child, that I don’t like tears in your eyes, don’t cry my love, I am with you.” Zimmal sobbed even louder; and, in her sobs, she mumbled, “3..15..316…000.”
She felt her heart wrenching because of being patient for so long. . . Her mother looked at her with tearful eyes & felt her daughter’s unending agony…but she could not do anything for her wilting daughter. Zimmalgathered her courage and continued, “ 315316000 seconds! 315316000 tears!in your remembrance!!”
She hugged her mother even more tighter and the rope of her patience got lose; Zara shouted with all her heart; her face wilted; the freshness was gone, her face resembled a wilted flower and the thunders of the sky roared even more harder accompanying her in her mourning. She was swerving in the abyss of her sadness; her heart was fighting with her mind because she wasn’t ready to accept the fact.
She was driving crazy in her silence and none could see that… She hugged her mother with all the power she had so that she doesn’t leave her. But, as Zimmal’stears rushed with a fear of losing her mother, she felt the warmth of her mother’s hug turning cold.
Her mother’s ethereal hands untwined her & her image began to fade…, “NO,!!” cried Zimmal, “NO, YOU CANNOT GO, NO, NOT AGAIN!! NO! NO! NO!!!!!!” Zimmal turned almost mad, but the image of her mother ascended towards the skies leaving her all b-r-o-k-e-n and yearning. The story of an unbearable loss repeated itself, once again; the story that Zimmal’s eyes penned daily for the last one year in her sight.
All tired & exhausted, Zimmal fell in her gloom of the memories of her mother like an injured autumn leaf drenched in heavy rain, looking at the empty moving cradle, where her mother used to rock her as a child…