She had been uneasy all evening. It was the uneasiness that told her something was waiting to happen. She tried reading a book to distract herself. However, it did nothing to help and finally surrendering to the unfamiliarly familiar feeling, she stared at the canopy overhead lying in her four poster bed draped in white linen. It was almost two in the night when she was overtaken by sleep and exhaustion. A couple of hours later, she was woken by a strange whisper in her ears as though some ethereal being were whispering in her ears. She noticed her easiness had grown to a mild tingling in the pit of her stomach. She ignored the whisper and sunk back into her slumber.
Another couple of hours later, she shocked awake. This time she felt there was someone around her trying to communicate with her. In the dim light of the dawn she could only make out the outlines of her bed, the other furniture and furnishings in her room. She made a quick trip to the washroom, grabbed her pashmina and was seen running across the huge lawns that surrounded her castle into the woods, in a manner which suggested that she was being led by someone. And in that rush of moment, she actually grew oblivious of her guide and wandered off into the woods alone.
The woodlands wore a festive look all decorated with the dewdrops dispersing rainbow lights, ribbons of mist stretching between leaves from one tree to another and musical gurgling and gushing of distant streams getting ready for the ceilidh. Not a single creature stirred in the woods. She glided through juvenile grass and between the ancestral trees bowed down from the burden of ages in stance of a warm reception. She kept moving on deeper into the woods until she came a small and sluggish streamlet that seemed devoid of all esteem. And the very moment that she set her foot beyond the streamlet, she was surrounded by a mist so dense that it felt solid and that it cleared at an extraordinary velocity for its density.
It was for the first time since she wandered into the woods that she felt alone and the uneasiness returned. When the haze cleared it left behind a panorama that could literally take a spectator’s breath away. She let go off all her apprehensions. The sun shone brilliantly from behind the hills and it was strange that the sunrays felt pleasantly cool against her skin as thought she were experiencing a tryst between the sun and moon in an ambience set just apt by breezes. More than that, she felt the familiar presence beside her. The breezes moved in a manner as if being directed to carry out chores. A wreath of purple flowers floated it’s way to her and settled ever so perfectly around her brow. The butterflies and bees danced around her while the sparrows and bulbuls serenaded.
However, the question arises as to where was she finding herself? It looked like she had chanced upon some new country. She could see majestic mountains on one side of her and endless oceans stretching on the other. But, it couldn’t be bigger than an enormous garden, she thought. She pranced along with the fawns and the chipmunks that had joined her until she came to the centre of the garden. She stood at the foot of an grandly aged tree laden with tempting fruit. Wise as she was, she guessed, “Could I...is it possible that I am in the garden of Eden?” She looked around at all the creatures staring up at her. Another thought came to her mind, “Could I then be Eve herself?” She reasoned with herself, “If I were Eve, my Adam should be somewhere?” She exhilarated with happiness but then she thought, “And then there would be the serpent too!” She wore a grim visage now. She stepped closer to the tree as if holding a private conversation with it, “Oh, Thy Arboreal Splendor, your fruits are succulent and tempting as designed for, but I cannot eat from them as I am born of sins long committed and have known the nature of cognizance from history. Accept my gratitude for the honour bestowed upon me.” And with these words she moved away the Tree thinking to herself, “Someday, maybe, someday.”
She came to the familiar sluggish streamlet accompanied by her new found playmates and the spirit who had been protecting her all the while. She was all weary from the adventure and famished too. She birds brought her wild berries that she enormously enjoyed but before she could finish even a handful of them, for she had really small hands; she was hurled into deep slumber. She lay there, her countenance peaceful, with streamlet now gushing and gurgling at her feet in joy. She lay there in oblivion, waiting for her Prince Charming to kiss her into consciousness.
She stirred awake; she was lying against the familiar white linen that lined her bed. She was home. She still wore the floral wreath around her brow; there were flowers at her feet and a butterfly or two dancing around her. She looked out the open window towards the woods that beckoned her and she thought she saw someone waiting there.
Another couple of hours later, she shocked awake. This time she felt there was someone around her trying to communicate with her. In the dim light of the dawn she could only make out the outlines of her bed, the other furniture and furnishings in her room. She made a quick trip to the washroom, grabbed her pashmina and was seen running across the huge lawns that surrounded her castle into the woods, in a manner which suggested that she was being led by someone. And in that rush of moment, she actually grew oblivious of her guide and wandered off into the woods alone.
The woodlands wore a festive look all decorated with the dewdrops dispersing rainbow lights, ribbons of mist stretching between leaves from one tree to another and musical gurgling and gushing of distant streams getting ready for the ceilidh. Not a single creature stirred in the woods. She glided through juvenile grass and between the ancestral trees bowed down from the burden of ages in stance of a warm reception. She kept moving on deeper into the woods until she came a small and sluggish streamlet that seemed devoid of all esteem. And the very moment that she set her foot beyond the streamlet, she was surrounded by a mist so dense that it felt solid and that it cleared at an extraordinary velocity for its density.
It was for the first time since she wandered into the woods that she felt alone and the uneasiness returned. When the haze cleared it left behind a panorama that could literally take a spectator’s breath away. She let go off all her apprehensions. The sun shone brilliantly from behind the hills and it was strange that the sunrays felt pleasantly cool against her skin as thought she were experiencing a tryst between the sun and moon in an ambience set just apt by breezes. More than that, she felt the familiar presence beside her. The breezes moved in a manner as if being directed to carry out chores. A wreath of purple flowers floated it’s way to her and settled ever so perfectly around her brow. The butterflies and bees danced around her while the sparrows and bulbuls serenaded.
However, the question arises as to where was she finding herself? It looked like she had chanced upon some new country. She could see majestic mountains on one side of her and endless oceans stretching on the other. But, it couldn’t be bigger than an enormous garden, she thought. She pranced along with the fawns and the chipmunks that had joined her until she came to the centre of the garden. She stood at the foot of an grandly aged tree laden with tempting fruit. Wise as she was, she guessed, “Could I...is it possible that I am in the garden of Eden?” She looked around at all the creatures staring up at her. Another thought came to her mind, “Could I then be Eve herself?” She reasoned with herself, “If I were Eve, my Adam should be somewhere?” She exhilarated with happiness but then she thought, “And then there would be the serpent too!” She wore a grim visage now. She stepped closer to the tree as if holding a private conversation with it, “Oh, Thy Arboreal Splendor, your fruits are succulent and tempting as designed for, but I cannot eat from them as I am born of sins long committed and have known the nature of cognizance from history. Accept my gratitude for the honour bestowed upon me.” And with these words she moved away the Tree thinking to herself, “Someday, maybe, someday.”
She came to the familiar sluggish streamlet accompanied by her new found playmates and the spirit who had been protecting her all the while. She was all weary from the adventure and famished too. She birds brought her wild berries that she enormously enjoyed but before she could finish even a handful of them, for she had really small hands; she was hurled into deep slumber. She lay there, her countenance peaceful, with streamlet now gushing and gurgling at her feet in joy. She lay there in oblivion, waiting for her Prince Charming to kiss her into consciousness.
She stirred awake; she was lying against the familiar white linen that lined her bed. She was home. She still wore the floral wreath around her brow; there were flowers at her feet and a butterfly or two dancing around her. She looked out the open window towards the woods that beckoned her and she thought she saw someone waiting there.
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