Thursday, November 13, 2014

The Story of a Cave


Right below the top of the mountain was a little cave with its mouth towards a large river.  It had huge rocks and trees as its covering. A fox and vixen trekked once all the way to the cave only to find some solitary place to feel that womb of nature and perform the ritual of psychological unison when morning was still in the shades of darkness.
The fox had found vixen sitting on her own upon a large rock right beside the river.  She had her own stories to discuss, her own songs to rhyme with that river and she seemed perfectly at peace with her ambience.  He gently came and sat right beside her. For hours none spoke,  only shared a silent company of each other.Both had the previous night in mind – when both had stolen out into that forest – together beside a moony river.  It would have been great had the fox suddenly not felt those moon’s effects.  She tried to calm him down – but all in vain. This morning fox had guilt inside – guilt of leaving her alone last night , guilt of not being by her side. Vixen was at peace . nevertheless she expected her answers. Either ways, she had convinced herself – to be by her own side.
Together they walked beyond that river and stones. Together they reached great heights. Only to find that cave – hidden so well under layers of time. They entered that cave and went out of sight. To the world – they were invisible , yet another tree behind.  There , upon a trunk they stood somehow. Side by side, inside that cave, they felt wow. Thousands of feet below was that river. There in morning chill they had shiver. To feel the beauty of the moment .to be right inside that rocky dent.
There they talked volumes with each other. there he went on with his mutter. She had double talks going on .one inside her head . ones with her new dawn. Nature had bounded them in a strange way, right in that cave where both stood like stand. They had no words discussed to stay together. but they knew they were one – from that  morning stabber.
After millions of moments together, they once again visited that cave. To find that love inside, once more to be each other’s tame. But the cave had died under those few moments. When they craved for it the most to mend their dents. The trees had been unrooted. The mouth had been crushed close. They must have faced a havoc. Those walls and that sand. They held each other’s palm to assure their presence. To tell never mind, we are still together with love immense.
But the fate was due, the same fate that that cave had. All of them were wild, equally  vulnerable  their fate – so sad. The cave broke down, so did they. In shambles were they all, in fragments was their fate. Were they really ill- fitted or was it time’s new rate. Their nature was wild, and freedom was the fate. So the fox was free and so was the vixen. Beyond hills and rivers, was their fiction.
The disaster had been caused nevertheless. Only they new that time when the cave was no less.; the beauty and grandeur of that hidden corner. Only they had the key and they knew its grandeur. Surely the cave had enlarged to be a part of the huge mountain cliff. It had sunshine and also snowy bliss. But that cosy feeling that it once had when he and she were inside. well that was something that was not in sunshine.

On rare nights the cave whispered to that moonlight – to take her to her past when she and he were so bright. Together they used to jump in the river, together they used to trek to its side. Together were they so happy int those moments. Together – was now a rare sight. And then she looked high up – at her moon. drowning in that darkness – under goldish swoon. And then she had a strange sigh – right with those cliffs – by her side.  


  Mystical Wanderer

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