The setting sun spread its golden hue seasoned with the royal crimson on the street as I was on my evening walk. Something unusual caught my eyes then: a small little fragile but extremely cute girl was alone on the footpath. God forbid me, I cursed her guardians for doing so. What surprised me was that there was not a little mint of fear or anxiety in that girl who was alone among the wicked grown. This unusual behaviour made me to spare some time for this cute little girl.
She was hurrying on the pathway with full of eagerness towards a public garden. Then she looked around to find whether anyone was watching her, I turned away immediately when her eyes clashed with mine, but I was still peeping to see what that girl was doing. She swiftly collected some colourful flowers and plucked them and ran immediately to a house nearby. My curiosity peaked to know what this young one was up to, so I followed her to the house she was nearing.
As I was nearing the house the beautiful violin music of Vivaldi, The Four Seasons- spring mvt 1, floated into my ears. I forgot myself for a moment into the paradise of the healing power of music, then remembering about the girl I grasped my look for her: she was placing those flowers at the doorsteps of that house, knocked the door and ran away with the emotions of fear and happiness mixed together. I guess she thought that she was not noticed but for her unfortunateness she was spotted by a young woman who was also the violinist from that house's window.
For a second I thought I had missed the girl but later found that she was hiding behind two cars parked in front of that house. She was waiting for those flowers to be taken.The house's door creaked open, the lady appeared. When the little girl heard the door's sound she quickly crouched blocking her view to the house. The young lady took those flowers and kept some toffees on the doorsteps. Again when the door creaked close the girl hurried to the doorsteps to get those toffees. when she reached there she looked around the same way with consciousness as she did when she plucked those flowers. Grabbing those toffees she sprinted away from that house and also away from me.
It was already late I had to hurry back home as I had my tuitions that day. All the way home and that whole evening I could not get this sweet moment off my mind it was so beautiful and pleasentful. Every time I thought about it I had joy flooding my heart. I wanted to see that sweet little girl again tomorrow. The next day as usual I was on my evening walk but I was more in seeing that little girl rather than taking a walk. I was back on the same spot as yesterday. Everything happened just the same way as yesterday, the little girl came she listened to the music, plucked flowers, dropped them at that house's doorsteps, knocked the door, found a hiding spot- as usual she did not see the lady- and finally picked those toffees and sprinted away.
This happened regularly and I was there to notice every bit of it. A week or so passed then something different from the routine happened, that dark evening there was no music from that house, but the girl was there waiting for music and the toffees. As nothing happened I thought the girl will leave, that did not happen. She did leave but to only pluck those flowers and place them at the doorsteps, she knocked the door harder than ever before and did not go hide. I prayed the Almighty that the lady inside must come out, but it did not happen. Losing most hopes the girl left, so did I.
The next day I was back on my usual walk, again the girl was there with flowers in her hand. She dropped them at the doorsteps knocked the door, nothing happened, just the same like yesterday, except the half dried dead flowers recieved some company. This continued for some more days. Never did the girl quit but over time as the flowers on the doorsteps dried and withered so did the little girl's heart.
This thought always stabs a dagger in my heart: I could have kept some toffees when the girl was hiding. I was never in her life nor does she ever know me so I thought of just moving away like a Passerby. No matter how much we try, how much we want it........ some stories just don't have a happy ending.