Soul of a Shadow


*We all have our shadows. Long and casting, forever following, and it is the dark that brings out our twin from us. A physical form of our conscience.*

Varkey and Mary were shadows of each another. They didnt have shadows of their own. They were each another’s shadow. Stalking, encountering and falling into an ebb of silence whenever they cast each another with an elusive smile. Fragile shadows of one another that broke into shards of memories of what had gone and what little was left behind. They gave birth to one another and the world around them. Small for a bumpkin. Big for those who were alone. And yet here they were. In a corner of the world they never knew.

Yours truly always stalked. Yours truly always stared. Yours truly always gazed with what she thought were excellent binoculars for her eyes. Well yours truly and certain other things in life will never change. It was my unexplained pleasure in wondering what those two from another timeline were upto. Sometimes I wondered whether their hands still smelled of the fish they had for lunch. Sometimes I longed to hear what they would sound like reprimanding their grandson. Sometimes I wondered if their hunch stooped more and if it hurt them to walk to their beds. Sometimes I wondered if they were ever going to look back with a smile of knowing me all their lives.

They had sons, they had grandchildren. They had plants and a big white house. They had their wicker chairs and old rosaries. They wore white yet felt black because they thought they were invisible. Till they died they never knew how unfathomable the colour was. That black let you lose yourself in it. That black enraptured. That black snared you into its magic.

Yet here they were, Varkey and Mary, old and wrinkled, small and humbled, two souls of a lost world casting shadows longer than their struggles, at each another,waiting for an unborn child to call their own. To turn up like Jesus.

“Mary, nammale kaanaan aarum varilla. Nammal karuthu chulinja vayasaayavar alle.”

(“Mary, nobody will visit us. We are old, dark and wrinkled folks.”)

This is what yours truly had ever heard of them.

Until they left for a better place to build a new house, a new life, a new world.Miles and miles apart.

While I nourished the new world in my arms.



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