Velan, a renowned advocate, lost in thoughts leaning on the backseat of his car recollecting the days and memories, is on the way to his village after twelve years. The only face which occupied his mind entirely is Bharathi’s.
When they were children, she follows him like a puppy whenever he goes and is excelled in crying aloud without tears if he refused to buy her the barfi Mittai which is her favorite. Knowing this, Munoo Anna, the barfi seller, takes advantage of, roams here and there shouting Barfi! Barfi! deliberately in the street. There is a beautiful temple in front of which, the jasmine field surrounded by the mango trees where they, along with other friends, play Kannamoochi(hide-and-seek) Nondipidi(hop-and-catch), in which, If she got caught to hop, he would get cought immediately to release her.
“Sir.. Sir.. we have reached.” told the driver, brought Velan back to concious state.
As soon as he stepped out of the car, his Amma hugged him and burst into tears lamenting about Bharathi. It had been twelve year since Bharathi passed away. It was of Childmarriage, after getting married at the age of 13 to have child when she herself was a child, she died of her labour pain.
“If I knew what was going on at the time, I would have stopped the marriage” cried velan, his forehead leaning on the portrait of Bharathi.

My eye of life, my mother, my child, My Ammu
Your tiny hands and feet, I even now retreat
Sister in birth but a mother of my earth
I lift you all around and never let touch on ground
Born before me My soul, gone before me must be My Foul
A part of me now is buried I am sick worried
Wish to join you over there
Don’t leave me here alone it is not fair
Sobbing is not bringing you back
The memories I possess, can’t take back
I wil never let that take back
I will never let that take back

Velan, drenching in tears, came out to the temple where they used to play hop-and-catch. The odor of jasmine reminded him of her voice which, he could still hear everywhere, let him sobbing. A child, playing there, came near and wiped his eyes with her tiny palms and meaningfully smiled looking at his eyes while her mother calling her name in distance “Bharathi”.

FOR THE CONTEST :

It’s writing challenges to the wonderful writers of the kilk forum every week. So here is this week’s challenge

Theme : Indianness
Specific theme : life in Indian villages
Mandatory device : a folk poem( rhyme is a must) describing a person/ nature / lifestyle / food style
Maximum words : 400 ( please stick to the word count)
Title : author’s choice

Just do it… In style…

Kilk, Apna Tashan…….
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