The Soft Core of a Stern Shell

Friends, this is the opening chapter of a novelette I'm writing. Your inputs are welcome.

Chapter I: A Portrait of Innocent Mischief

Welcome, my beloved children.

Meet two cute children shining with the joy of life: Peetu, a five-year-old boy, and his sister, Geetu, one year older.

You will feel drawn to both the children: their aura was so pure. The boy had a calm vibe, while the girl had mischief written all over her. Yet the essence of both of them was innocence.

As you looked at the boy, the very first thing you noticed was his eyes. His crystal-clear eyes seemed like a small, tranquil pool whose calm waters reflected the wonder and joy of Mother Nature. Yes, this boy loved nature from the core of his heart, and he seemed transfixed by the beauty parade that the kind mother arranged for her child every moment.

It was no wonder that this child was a born artist. Any time you went to his hut, you would often find him sitting at the doorstep and watching nature in all her finery, with a parade of interesting things keeping him busy every day. Here I was in one mind with Peetu; if you kept open the eyes of your heart and looked out with wonder, you, too, would come to see the magnificent beauty of nature all around you.

For example, a small sparrow flitting from branch to branch of a Neem tree was sure to attract his attention. To the boy, the bird was just like him: both of them revelled in joy just for the sake of joy. Every day, Peetu was delighted to wake to the sweet sound of chirping of these jolly birds on the big Neem tree right in front of their house. And as soon as he went to the windows to greet the new day, the lovely scent of tiny, white Jasmine blossoms, flowering in profusion on a potted plant outside, uplifted his spirits. Truly, every day was a joy for this kid.

Sometimes, a yellow flower on the ground, tiny in size but mighty in its perseverance, caught his attention. For Peetu, it was a wonder as to how this warrior of a flowering plant had managed to push aside all the bigger obstacles of tangled grass from its path, as it merrily danced in the sunshine with a proud attitude. It had every right to be proud!

A white cloud, as fluffy as wool, also vied for his attention. To the small boy, it was such a big surprise as to how this cloud, which seemed still, could move across the sky at the same time. At this moment, the cloud was in the leftmost corner of his sky. But lo and behold! Half an hour later, it happily occupied the very centre of the sky. To the boy, it was so mysterious!

And then, of course, came the colour of the sky. Peetu was just fascinated by the blue of the sky. If the truth be told, he sometimes found a mysterious similarity between this tint to that of the surf detergent powder kept in a jar in his house. Hmm, the Surf-maker must have stolen this colour from the sky. If Peetu ever met this maker, he would have a word or two to say on this matter. He used to shudder as he thought, “Just imagine stealing something so beautiful without permission!”

Now, the mischievous Geetu was the polar opposite of her brother. If Peetu was content to watch a butterfly sit upon a flower and sip honey, the other youngster had to chase it. Only the other day, I found her skipping and hopping on the grassy patch in front of her cottage. On closer inspection, I came to realize that the child was happily chasing a pair of butterflies of stunning beauty.

These cute things had bright blue wings on which were splattered bright red spots, so that as they flew from one flowering tree to the next, it seemed to Geetu as if blue and red waves were being formed. The child went on chasing them so that this wave pattern would continue. And the butterflies themselves looked to be willing partners in her joyful capers. Such was the aura of innocence of children that nature was more than happy to accommodate all their fancies.

The other pet thing for Geetu was climbing trees, particularly the fruit trees. Though she was just six, she had already mastered the art of climbing trees to perfection. If you were ever looking for Geetu and couldn’t find her, then you had better look up the Kafal trees that grow in abundance all around the village. This was a fruit tree that was typical of the hilly landscape.

Now, as far as I knew, the Kafal was a difficult tree to climb due to its great height as well as its rough bark. But to Geetu, it was just like climbing the staircase of a house! When she got down, a good number of the red juicy fruits, tied within a grey hankie (borrowed from her dad), was her prize. She would then triumphantly carry the bundle home. After her mom, Reetu, took away a portion of the fruits to be made into a tangy ‘chutney’, she and her brother would then enjoy the rest with a pinch of salt and a dash of chilli.

The next favourite pastime of Geetu was chasing squirrels. She had a huge fascination for these furry creatures.

I saw things happening in this way in the kitchen many a time: mom was instructing her girl on how to do an easy domestic chore, such as washing vegetables - the ever-obedient girl was attentively following the instructions - so far, so good.

Alas! This scene of domestic peace would be shattered in the blink of an eye.

The reason was that Geetu, out of the corner of her eyes, had noticed a squirrel coming down the branch of the Neem tree in the compound. It wanted to nibble at the nuts which the small girl had purposely left there. In a flash, she would be out of the kitchen, deaf to the yells of her mom. An unequal chase would ensue wherein the mammal gave a slip to the child and disappeared among the nearby bushes. And she would then face an inevitable dressing down from her fuming mom.

At times, this scolding did become a bit rough if she bunked her kitchen duties on too many occasions. But, then, the fun of chasing a nice, plump squirrel gave so much pleasure to the child that it overrode all motherly rebuke. Who wanted to do boring kitchen work when so much fun could be had outside? Plus, Geetu knew very well that she had her dad to back her up.

Yes, Geetu was the apple of the eyes of her dad. Come, let us meet him in the next chapter. This will give us a chance to know more about life in rural India as well.