By Anusha Ravikumar
Summer awakens with its burning passion, scorching the earth under the blushing blue sky as the fields turn green with envy. The first shower of a pregnant sky graces the earth and the waves dance in celebration, the land swells with joy and the rivers rush to join in. The winds bring with them the words I’ve waited for and they settle neatly between the lines of my memoir.
Memories come and memories go as days roll out, never the same as the last. The nightlong drumming turns into a pitter patter, eventually a mere sprinkle that hardens into a cold and quietly creeps into the day. The world once again awakens and stretches, still damp from the memories of monsoon. Winter wastes no time and covers the world in a soft cozy slumber. Birds nestle closer, squirrels snuggle into their burrows as Another day sprawls in its blankets and peeks outside. Days slither and slide, like snails on their relentless path, determined to find a home all while carrying the weight of one on their back.
Moments are born and memories are made. Pain hurts and pain heals, love hides and love seeks, until one ordinary Tuesday afternoon, love comes and love stays. Every now and then meaning tries to nudge its way in but life goes on, without a care in the world until one day, just like that, it doesn’t anymore.
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Anusha Ravikumar’s background is in medicine, and she has loved stories ever since she was a child. In her words: “I think a lot of life is just stories we tell ourselves. When I’m not reading a book, you can find me making ambitious three course meals for an imaginary panel of master chefs.”