The wounds of the winter

By  BISWABANDHU MOHAPATRA

The park was now getting empty in early evening, even before the clock showed seven. The winter had already come to our city. The days were now getting shorter. The evenings were preponed and the mornings postponed. The trees had started shedding leaves and the green city was turning out to be naked. When were the spring coming & the flora & fauna going to have new lease of life?

The twinkling stars in the sky were getting dimmer, so was the lonely moon among them. Like me … missed in solitude even in a typical crowd inside this park. This way, the moon had an intimacy with me.

The concrete bench was slowly getting chiller and chiller. The nearby light posts which had been standing like the watchmen were now appearing hazier& hazier. The droplets of evening dew were falling from the sky. It’s early December. The winter had started shuddering this city with the continuous fall in the temperature.

Perhaps I was the last man to leave the park. No….somebody else might also be there……Nirlipta! Eight years back, she once knitted a sleeveless sweater for me and after wearing that I felt excited: When winter comes, will the spring be far behind?

Alas….the spring never came thereafter. The trees were not decorated with new leaves and buds. The birds forgot the art of singing. As………. Nirlipta departed from my life.

In every winter I wear the same sleeveless sweater gifted by Nirlipta and feel her in me. May be she will have forgotten the art of knitting sweaters. Even otherwise, she won’t be knitting sweaters any more for anybody.

-“Just wait two more months…..I will certainly marry you in the coming spring.” Who was promising whom? I moved ahead following the utterances. Few yards away, a boy was apparently sleeping on the lap of a girl, waiting for the spring to come. Ignoring….. the cold wave and the drizzling dew drops.

When winter comes, will the spring be far behind?

But the girl started weeping-“Who knows………? …..anything may happen in these two months. I may have to leave this city before the spring comes.”

The boy was speechless. Apparently, helpless also. Did this windy winter understand his helplessness?

Read more https://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-love/love-short-story-wounds-of-the-winter/index.html

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