Tuesday, December 9, 2008


- Tilak K C

The night turned treacherous.

The cold winter wind howled madly. The drizzle washed down the valley. The lightening struck occasionally.

The small plant got uprooted. The nest got washed away. The tree got burned and got sliced into half. The lightening tore it from the middle. The slices appeared in the earth. It started trembling with the fear.

The animals ran towards the caves for the shelter. The birds flew away. The fishes tried desperately to escape the current. The whole of the jungle was in chaos.
The skies kept on roaring on with all might.

The golden sun appeared in the morning. The storm had gone away. The calamity had subsided.

The trees had been uprooted. The forest had been burnt. The grounds had been torn. The river had washed away the land. The valley had been converted into a swamp.
The animals came out of the hiding. They had lost their siblings. They had lost their homes.

A small golden bird came hovering down from the east. The little floppy feather ball lingered in front of the animals. It slowly bounced up and down.

It circled them and went up to the highest branch of the tallest tree. Once there, he opened his beak and let out the most melodious of the tunes. He sang of the golden sun. He sang of the nature and he sang of the hope.

The animals were in captivated by this melody. Slowly and steadily their hearts started feeling in with the warmth. Slowly and steadily the ray of hope lighted the chambers of their heart. They all looked up to the sun and unanimously started singing the tune of hope. They sang in the top of their hearts and they sang with the melody the bird was singing.

They sang on.

Two drops of tears rolled down the birds eyes.

Four small fluffy feather balls lay dead ahead on the ground.