The soul dances with what mere eyes cannot see.
The drawer was opened. All it contained was a dead flower. A flower which was once hopeful, and in harmony with itself. Until.
“Not here.” she whispered. The adjacent old cupboard was undressed. No sign of it. “I can’t find my spectacles!” exclaimed the geriatric woman.
“When was the last time you remember seeing them?” exclaimed her grandson, Sameer. “I don’t know. Maybe in the kitchen.” “Oh, well.” And, the kitchen was approached. Sounds of moving cups and dragged cutlery satiated the still atmosphere. “No spectacles here.”
“Now, how am I to lead the day without vision?” Her senses were perplexed. “How about you sit outside, in the living room, while I search for them?” Her soul rejuvenated. Living room. “Will you do that for me?” He bent down to find himself below her, his eyes met hers. “Of course, I will, grand ma. Why do you worry so much?” He felt a moist impression on his right cheek. He smiled. “Now, I better hurry. I have my interview in an hour.”
The guest bedroom is opened. “So, what designation is this interview regarding?” “More or less some manager of their Department of Accountancy.” “If your parents were alive”, tears stained her cheeks, “they would have been so proud of you.” “You are my parents, grand ma. And, nothing can be more gratifying than your satisfaction.” “The day you are on your own feet, I can die peacefully.” She saw it stare at her, smiling. Nervously, she brushed her fingers through the majestic wind chimes. All these years, they were her listeners. I never wanted it to end like this.
A while later, “I unheard that. I have searched almost every place in this house. No sign of your spectacles.” “So, here they disappear, just like my comb, and my books.” “Yes, this situation is becoming worse. These disappearances.” “Maybe there is something in this house. We should leave.” Astonishment reflected Sameer’s eyes. “What do you mean by leave?” “Leave this house.” “Please don’t be superstitious. I must leave for my interview now. Have a good day ahead, grand ma.”
“I am not superstitious. And, good-bye, Sameer. No matter what happens, I will always be there for you. With you.” “You confuse me.” And the door was shut.
The phone rang endlessly. Where are you grandma? Why are you not answering my phone?
It was late. The interview. Damn, all these hours. For nothing. The doorbell was pressed for the fourth time. “Hello? Grand ma? Are you there?” No answer. A while later, he held the other set of keys which he had given to his neighbors; only to be retrieved in times of emergencies.
In all probability, she must be sleeping outside in the balcony. The house was dark. Still. All windows and doors were locked. No sound of anyone, or anything. Every step weakened the scared wood. The steps were now more recurrent. No sign of the woman. The sound of panic and fear crescendoed. Nowhere to be found.
In despair, the living man sat down. He buried his face in his palms. Where could she possibly be?
Just then, the soft tinkling of the wind chimes could be heard. They progressively rose until the entire house was lulled to soft wonder. It was incomprehensible. How can wind chimes blow in still air? Unless. . .
He hurried towards the area. The wind chimes stopped. “What is happening?” he whispered to himself.
There was no one there.
Just when he was about to leave the place, the wooden plank right underneath him slid down. He stared at it in awe. “A secret compartment?” Freezing fingers lifted the plank. He couldn’t believe what he saw. No matter what happens, I will always be there for you. With you.
There lay her comb, books, spectacles, and. . . .