– a story
The Tiny Weed stood clinging precariously to the barren rocks. Its leaves were carefully painted a beautiful green with the little moisture its tiny roots could gather from the surroundings. There was something about the Tiny Weed standing proudly against the grey barrenness of the rocks that caught the eye of the passing Dark Gray Cloud. It sent down a gentle shower. The Tiny Weed looked up in surprise.
“Hello…” said the Dark Gray Cloud
“Hello…” replied the Tiny Weed shyly.
No one had taken much notice of the Tiny Weed till then. She was happy and content in her solitude. The Tiny Weed did watch the plants carefully tended by the gardeners, the water and nourishment they got. Yet the Tiny Weed did not long for anything more than to stand proud and green against the barren rocks. Once in a while it dreamed of the Dark Gray Cloud and wished it would shower on her. Not for the Tiny Weed, the tame water from the garden hose in the gardener’s hand. She wanted the spontaneous joy-filled showers to fall on her from the Dark Gray Cloud itself. She was doubtful if she would ever make it as long as the Dark Gray Cloud’s arrival. She would probably dry up before that and fall off the rocky cliff as flimsy as her roots were. She smiled ruefully at such times and sent a request, ‘Dear God, give me better roots the next time and let me be born in a land where the Dark Gray Cloud resides.’
“Hello!!!” repeated the Dark Gray Cloud again, amused at the confusion on the Tiny Weed’s face.
“Hello…” replied the Tiny Weed in an even smaller voice.
Gently, for the Dark Gray Cloud knew how precarious the Tiny Weed’s position on the cliff-side was, he showered on her.
When the gentle shower fell, the Tiny Weed was transported magically to the land of her dreams. Her leaves now looked even greener and the Dark Gray Cloud seemed enamored of this magical creature she had transformed into.
The following days, the Dark Gray Cloud spent more and more time with her, gently showering her with drops of rain, taking care not to push her off the cliff side. He talked to her of the places he had visited. The Tiny Weed listened spell bound as much by the stories he told her as the magic she heard in the Dark Gray Cloud’s voice.
The happiest sight the Tiny Weed had ever seen in her life was the Dark Gray Cloud on the horizon gently moving towards her. Her happiest moments were when he showered rain drops on her. Looking down from high above the cliff-side, in her newfound joy, she felt she owned the Earth, that she was immortal. The Tiny Weed now grew stronger roots and greener, more luxurious leaves, in her contentment.
As days went by her joy took a downward swing. She found the appearance of the Dark Gray Cloud was getting rarer. And when he did appear, he spent less and less time with her. He had no more stories to tell her. The showers the Dark Gray Cloud sent her way became scarcer too. The Tiny Weed felt sadness fill her whole being. She quietly gathered whatever dampness of the showers she had left and kept her leaves as green as she could. One day soon, the Tiny Weed saw the Dark Gray Cloud in the distance, sailing off on his way, leaving her alone behind. The Tiny Weed knew, she would never see the Dark Gray Cloud again.
The Monsoons were over.
©Shail Mohan 2009
The monsoons are over where you live
where I dwell it is still to be active
to the rain gods we are sending missive
as the farmers look up at the sky pensive
we are hoping for some showers to relieve
the scorching heat & make the coming days festive.
Good post Shail. Excellent choice of words.
Me: ..and good comment Govind! 🙂 Hope you get rains soon!
The first thing that came to my mind while reading this is this song by Sir Elton John.
It’s a tribute to John Lennon.
oops! It didn’t get embedded.
Me: Thank you Govind. Listening to the song. 🙂
Beautiful post, Shail. Enjoyed reading the love story of the Dark Gray cloud and the Tiny Weed. We feel like the Tiny weed…no proper rains this year, here in Chennai. We are wilting like her.
Your commentors are competing with you, too! You people play with words and we enjoy reading them! Thank you.
Me: I hope the rain clouds reach you soon Sandhya. Govind is a master in commenting in verse and that too rhyming verse, right across the blogworld! 🙂
Beautiful story! I feel sorry for the tiny weed but even the dark gray cloud can’t go against the nature 🙂
Me: You are right 🙂 Thank you Basanta.
Nice read shail…
pleasure to stop by here….
sweet blog.. sweet choice of words and colors 😀
Me: Welcome Mahmud. Thanks for stopping by and your kind words 🙂
I was cursing the never ending rains in Kerala till a while back! But now that it’s gone, the weather’s turned all sultry and I am waiting for it to start raining again!
Me: It IS extremely sultry. I don’t mind at all if it rains. Love it. 🙂
Very good imagery. I think it’s allegorical to human relationships. Sometimes the caretaker leaves..but most of the times it is the cared ones that find their feet and leave. Kudos Shaila.
Me: Thanks for the appreciation and your interpretation Vivek. I guess my allegory differs from yours 🙂
The person above beat me to what i was going to say….but this is so well written……wudnt mind seeing your version of a fairy tale ending though ;p
Me: Fairy tale ending?? Hmmm… I don’t see one, Arch. Lol, DGC probably has TWs all around the globe! 🙂
The tiny weed can look forward to the next monsoon, may not be the same weed but then her sibling could meet another dark grey cloud and the story goes on…….
We Chennai folks are not even as lucky as the weed….
Kaale megha, kaale megha paani to barsaao
Me: Keep singing, provided you have a good voice and can sing but not scare the Kaala Megha away! If not the Chennai people are going to strangle you for frightening away the Kaala Megha! 😛
Yeah the story goes on every Monsoon, a new weed a new cloud. 🙂
Shail, your story teleported me into a different world.
Where did you learn saying such simple things so beautifully?
Me: Balvinder, thank you so much for the appreciation! You are too kind.
Bob Hoff said:
A wonderful story of love and tranquility–a story that could be illustrated and delight children I bet.
Super job, to a Master Storyteller, Shail (HRP)
Me: That’s a good idea Bob about an illustrated version! Maybe the junior son can get down to it some day! 🙂
goodness, how did i miss this one?!!! this was so nicely put 🙂
Me: Thanks a ton Ganga. Glad you liked it! 🙂