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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Friends / Friendship
- Published: 09/23/2019
I was passing through the alleyway bearing a knapsack over my shoulders, counting my steps towards home. The ketchup on my woollen sweater had desiccated leaving a gross stain behind. My mother had lectured me constantly for being a careless eater yet I didn't endeavor to fix my habit. Well she was also proud of me in other cases. She always cherished my luminous chestnut hair, my tall height and specially my hunky-dory grades I had carried out at school.
Enwrapped in my own reverie I turned right instead of left. I was ambling on the wrong track that didn't lead to my home. A couple of minutes later I realized my mistake when I heard the tinkling sound. The sound of a glass being nudged by another glass, the hollow seashells hitting porcelain, brass buttons striking against the metal bell. I twisted back detecting the spot from where the sounds were coming. It was a little shop of wind chimes. I tried to shrug off and turn back to where I was going but I felt an urge to enter the shop. As I stepped in, I caught sight of walls painted in gleamy golden with silver stars. The variant wind chimes were dangling everywhere. For a while It held me spellbound.
"How may I help you?" inquired the girl sitting behind the small counter.
I gave her a brisk glance. She appeared to be as young as me. Her bangs were finely trimmed tumbling over her forehead but her hair looked as if chopped off with a knife with ups and downs at the end, reaching the lower part of her neck.
"I was merely passing by so I thought I ought to drop in.'' I replied.
"You may look around." She uttered with a slight beam.
Her eyes were not fixed upon me while she was speaking and there was no one else aside from us there.
"What is this one made of?" I queried pointing at the wind chime.
"In which row and how does it look like?" She asked still staring in the same direction.
"In second row, with swinging crescent moons." I responded.
"I got it. It's made of copper and polished with moonlight colour." she grinned.
My intuition was right. She was blind. Her brown, visionless eyes wandering somewhere else whilst her honey toned hands were wrapping the wind chime I bought. The one with moons.
-----
That was my final year at high school and I was going to graduate in minimally four months. Since we used to reside in an exurb I had quite mediocre opportunities to continue my education further. My father counselled me to move to the city and study in a better college there. I relished the idea and so did my mother. Hence it was schematized that way.
I jotted down the concluding part of my assignment and peeked at the pendent wind chime next to the window. Through the slits of silk curtains I could descry balmy summer evening. In a jiffy I decided to go see her. I put on my crimson hoodie and sprinted towards the door.
Unlike that day, there was a middle-aged woman in the shop. She was striving to cherry-pick one among the several wind chimes. I waited till she bought one and said her farewell.
"Hello I'm Dylan, the one who showed up a few days ago and bought the wind chime with moons". I announced and glanced at her.
She was dressed in a lavender cardigan.
"Nice to meet you Dylan. Please have a seat." she chirped.
"May I know what is your name?" I queried while I settled on a chair in front of her.
"Melody." she uttered.
"Quite a felicific name. By the way who makes these wind chimes?" I questioned.
"I make them." she bloomed.
I didn't reckon it for a trice because all of them were delicately created, as if a virtuoso of art had flashed his mastery. I had scrutinized wind chimes before but those in that little shop seemed genuinely exquisite.
"I'm stone-blind but I can hear aptly. Each sound of the world. You must be wondering why I preferred wind chimes over anything else . As for me wind chimes are monumental. The sounds they produce are dulcet to the heart and sedative for the soul. As mellow as the lullaby. Wind chimes are the alpha and omega of serenity. Close your eyes and feel. It's not about the vision, it's about the audibility. Those with sight usually behold the glitz and glamour of wind chimes whilst people like me hear the beauty of it." she gave a brief pause and unbolted the caddy positioned at the right side of the counter. She took out a handful of caramel candies and raisin cookies then served them with lemon tea.
"I can differentiate among sounds proficiently. The tick tock of the clock, the droplets of water falling in a barrel, the billows in the ocean, the pebble thrown in a puddle, the flickering flames of the bonfire, jingling coins, the susurrus of dragonflies, the monotony of breath, the thunder while downpour, the fluttering of leaves and the rhyming heartbeat. I know it all." she averred.
I found myself harking to her keenly. Her words were bedazzling. I munched on a squooshy caramel candy and exited the shop promising her to visit again.
-----
In the preceding three months I had visited her seven times. Each time she divulged something wondrous. Once she told me about 'Feng Shui'. I didn't have any notion what did that signify, so she unriddled the meaning behind that term. Feng Shui means 'wind and water'. It's a traditional chinese concept linking the destiny of a person with his environment. She also revealed that in Feng Shui science, wind chimes are a remedy with healing purpose, vibrating in harmony with the energy of the universe.
-----
I was packing up my belongings when my mother marched into my room. She helped me to pack and told how eminently she would miss me. I solaced her by making sure that everything would be fine. As soon as I finished up, I donned a beige sweatshirt with a pair of blue jeans. I brushed my chestnut hair backward revealing my forehead and sprayed cologne all over myself. Finally I traipsed out of my home to see her for the last time before moving to the city.
I stepped into the shop and found her standing tiptoe against the wall hanging a prismatic wind chime. Her monotinted indigo gown was touching her ankles. The gossamer sleeves and pleats at the waist. Few round lucent buttons pushed through the loop holes were sewn on the upper part of the gown in the exact middle. It seemed like a subtle retro dress. She had her own kind of charisma, an enigmatic personality and strong imaginations. A fairy from utopia.
Foremost I greeted her and had a casual chat and then I decided to ask the final question that was in my head for a long time.
"How do you make wind chimes so bonny? I'm just curious. I mean…"
"I understood. Even though I can't see, how do I make them really lovely. Isn't it your question?", she scanned my mind before I could manage to complete my question.
"Indeed.", I murmured.
"I make them with meraki." she blissed out.
"Meraki?", I echoed back uncertain about the word.
"Meraki means to do something with your soul, devotion, ardour, creativity and love. It means to put something of yourself in what you do. I craft wind chimes with meraki sprinkling the specks of myself in them. That's why they pan out so well because anything you do with genuine adoration always gives the best results." she whispered as if she had exposed her mighty secret.
I felt tongue-tied. She mentored me the life lesson that I never dared to forget.
"I'm leaving this exurb tomorrow." I uttered.
"On what account?" she asked in a perplexed tone.
"I'll study in a good college in the city." I responded.
"I'm chuffed to hear that. You made a rightful decision." she expressed jovially.
I said her goodbye and sauntered towards my home. I was eager to move to the city, nevertheless I was a bit gloomy for leaving her and my parents behind.
-----
After dwelling in the city for more than four years I couldn't count my days to return home. I was yearning to see my parents and Melody. I wanted to tell them how triumphant I was. I had received a few job proposals right after I finished my studies as I was one of the top students in my batch. One of my professors used to call me "crème de la crème" (A french idiom that means, 'the very best'). Some of the other students asked me in regards to my rapidly growing scores and I always assured that I study with meraki. Melody's meraki. Few of them presumed that it was the name of my tutor, others thought that I might be talking gibberish but none attempted to seek the purpose behind that word.
The twilight fell and I took the night train to my exurb. By the crawling pace of time the journey appeared aeonian to me. Next morning the bright aurora aroused me from my slumber. I stepped out of the train at the station and found my parents anxiously waiting for my arrival. Their sight was enough to gratify me. I ran towards them as I used to do back in my childhood.
I gobbled the hearty meal served by my mother on my comeback and climbed the stairs to my room. I quickly attired myself and dashed out to meet Melody.
The little shop looked way bigger now and there was not even a hint of wind chimes anywhere. Instead it was neatly organized, displaying a big signboard where "Clara's Gift Shop" was carved. Gleamy golden walls with silver stars lost their existence as they were wholly covered with floral cyan wallpapers. The shop appeared unfamiliar to me. A woman in her mid twenties dressed just like the hippies was going through a fashion magazine.
"Are you looking for a gift?" she asked raising her left eyebrow.
"No. I'm looking for Melody. The girl who couldn't see.", I answered.
She took a gander at me putting the magazine aside.
"Her father sold me this shop two years ago however the girl was not willing to deal in." she replied.
"Where is she now?" I questioned swiftly.
"Sorry I've no idea. All I was told is that she used to live with her mother but after the death of her, she was lonesome. Her father runs a minor trade business in a town thus he took her along because he couldn't abandon his daughter." she affirmed.
"But which town? There are a myriad of towns nigh and faraway. How can she disappear without a clue?, I barely spoke feeling a lump in my throat.
She didn't have any answer to my questions so I left the shop straightaway. I was tramping the streets aimlessly. Perhaps Melody had her reasons for vanishing away like that. I was not in touch with her because she didn't own a telephone unlike everyone else had one in their homes. I had lost her. A solo isolated tear seeped from my eye, rolled over my cheek and soaked up in my pale shirt.
Only after a week I parted from my exurb and travelled back to the city. I began working for a firm and consulted my parents about permanently shifting to the city. They favoured my proffer and moved in with me. My chum leased his modish apartment to us and we started to live quite a different life within the politics of a big city.
In jam-packed subways, in crammed train stations and in chaotic streets, I still try to look for her amongst people. I reckon that someday we will bump into each other. Maybe under a cherry blossom tree, over a dusky bridge or perhaps beneath the lustrous crescent moon.
MELODY(Bushra Shah)
I was passing through the alleyway bearing a knapsack over my shoulders, counting my steps towards home. The ketchup on my woollen sweater had desiccated leaving a gross stain behind. My mother had lectured me constantly for being a careless eater yet I didn't endeavor to fix my habit. Well she was also proud of me in other cases. She always cherished my luminous chestnut hair, my tall height and specially my hunky-dory grades I had carried out at school.
Enwrapped in my own reverie I turned right instead of left. I was ambling on the wrong track that didn't lead to my home. A couple of minutes later I realized my mistake when I heard the tinkling sound. The sound of a glass being nudged by another glass, the hollow seashells hitting porcelain, brass buttons striking against the metal bell. I twisted back detecting the spot from where the sounds were coming. It was a little shop of wind chimes. I tried to shrug off and turn back to where I was going but I felt an urge to enter the shop. As I stepped in, I caught sight of walls painted in gleamy golden with silver stars. The variant wind chimes were dangling everywhere. For a while It held me spellbound.
"How may I help you?" inquired the girl sitting behind the small counter.
I gave her a brisk glance. She appeared to be as young as me. Her bangs were finely trimmed tumbling over her forehead but her hair looked as if chopped off with a knife with ups and downs at the end, reaching the lower part of her neck.
"I was merely passing by so I thought I ought to drop in.'' I replied.
"You may look around." She uttered with a slight beam.
Her eyes were not fixed upon me while she was speaking and there was no one else aside from us there.
"What is this one made of?" I queried pointing at the wind chime.
"In which row and how does it look like?" She asked still staring in the same direction.
"In second row, with swinging crescent moons." I responded.
"I got it. It's made of copper and polished with moonlight colour." she grinned.
My intuition was right. She was blind. Her brown, visionless eyes wandering somewhere else whilst her honey toned hands were wrapping the wind chime I bought. The one with moons.
-----
That was my final year at high school and I was going to graduate in minimally four months. Since we used to reside in an exurb I had quite mediocre opportunities to continue my education further. My father counselled me to move to the city and study in a better college there. I relished the idea and so did my mother. Hence it was schematized that way.
I jotted down the concluding part of my assignment and peeked at the pendent wind chime next to the window. Through the slits of silk curtains I could descry balmy summer evening. In a jiffy I decided to go see her. I put on my crimson hoodie and sprinted towards the door.
Unlike that day, there was a middle-aged woman in the shop. She was striving to cherry-pick one among the several wind chimes. I waited till she bought one and said her farewell.
"Hello I'm Dylan, the one who showed up a few days ago and bought the wind chime with moons". I announced and glanced at her.
She was dressed in a lavender cardigan.
"Nice to meet you Dylan. Please have a seat." she chirped.
"May I know what is your name?" I queried while I settled on a chair in front of her.
"Melody." she uttered.
"Quite a felicific name. By the way who makes these wind chimes?" I questioned.
"I make them." she bloomed.
I didn't reckon it for a trice because all of them were delicately created, as if a virtuoso of art had flashed his mastery. I had scrutinized wind chimes before but those in that little shop seemed genuinely exquisite.
"I'm stone-blind but I can hear aptly. Each sound of the world. You must be wondering why I preferred wind chimes over anything else . As for me wind chimes are monumental. The sounds they produce are dulcet to the heart and sedative for the soul. As mellow as the lullaby. Wind chimes are the alpha and omega of serenity. Close your eyes and feel. It's not about the vision, it's about the audibility. Those with sight usually behold the glitz and glamour of wind chimes whilst people like me hear the beauty of it." she gave a brief pause and unbolted the caddy positioned at the right side of the counter. She took out a handful of caramel candies and raisin cookies then served them with lemon tea.
"I can differentiate among sounds proficiently. The tick tock of the clock, the droplets of water falling in a barrel, the billows in the ocean, the pebble thrown in a puddle, the flickering flames of the bonfire, jingling coins, the susurrus of dragonflies, the monotony of breath, the thunder while downpour, the fluttering of leaves and the rhyming heartbeat. I know it all." she averred.
I found myself harking to her keenly. Her words were bedazzling. I munched on a squooshy caramel candy and exited the shop promising her to visit again.
-----
In the preceding three months I had visited her seven times. Each time she divulged something wondrous. Once she told me about 'Feng Shui'. I didn't have any notion what did that signify, so she unriddled the meaning behind that term. Feng Shui means 'wind and water'. It's a traditional chinese concept linking the destiny of a person with his environment. She also revealed that in Feng Shui science, wind chimes are a remedy with healing purpose, vibrating in harmony with the energy of the universe.
-----
I was packing up my belongings when my mother marched into my room. She helped me to pack and told how eminently she would miss me. I solaced her by making sure that everything would be fine. As soon as I finished up, I donned a beige sweatshirt with a pair of blue jeans. I brushed my chestnut hair backward revealing my forehead and sprayed cologne all over myself. Finally I traipsed out of my home to see her for the last time before moving to the city.
I stepped into the shop and found her standing tiptoe against the wall hanging a prismatic wind chime. Her monotinted indigo gown was touching her ankles. The gossamer sleeves and pleats at the waist. Few round lucent buttons pushed through the loop holes were sewn on the upper part of the gown in the exact middle. It seemed like a subtle retro dress. She had her own kind of charisma, an enigmatic personality and strong imaginations. A fairy from utopia.
Foremost I greeted her and had a casual chat and then I decided to ask the final question that was in my head for a long time.
"How do you make wind chimes so bonny? I'm just curious. I mean…"
"I understood. Even though I can't see, how do I make them really lovely. Isn't it your question?", she scanned my mind before I could manage to complete my question.
"Indeed.", I murmured.
"I make them with meraki." she blissed out.
"Meraki?", I echoed back uncertain about the word.
"Meraki means to do something with your soul, devotion, ardour, creativity and love. It means to put something of yourself in what you do. I craft wind chimes with meraki sprinkling the specks of myself in them. That's why they pan out so well because anything you do with genuine adoration always gives the best results." she whispered as if she had exposed her mighty secret.
I felt tongue-tied. She mentored me the life lesson that I never dared to forget.
"I'm leaving this exurb tomorrow." I uttered.
"On what account?" she asked in a perplexed tone.
"I'll study in a good college in the city." I responded.
"I'm chuffed to hear that. You made a rightful decision." she expressed jovially.
I said her goodbye and sauntered towards my home. I was eager to move to the city, nevertheless I was a bit gloomy for leaving her and my parents behind.
-----
After dwelling in the city for more than four years I couldn't count my days to return home. I was yearning to see my parents and Melody. I wanted to tell them how triumphant I was. I had received a few job proposals right after I finished my studies as I was one of the top students in my batch. One of my professors used to call me "crème de la crème" (A french idiom that means, 'the very best'). Some of the other students asked me in regards to my rapidly growing scores and I always assured that I study with meraki. Melody's meraki. Few of them presumed that it was the name of my tutor, others thought that I might be talking gibberish but none attempted to seek the purpose behind that word.
The twilight fell and I took the night train to my exurb. By the crawling pace of time the journey appeared aeonian to me. Next morning the bright aurora aroused me from my slumber. I stepped out of the train at the station and found my parents anxiously waiting for my arrival. Their sight was enough to gratify me. I ran towards them as I used to do back in my childhood.
I gobbled the hearty meal served by my mother on my comeback and climbed the stairs to my room. I quickly attired myself and dashed out to meet Melody.
The little shop looked way bigger now and there was not even a hint of wind chimes anywhere. Instead it was neatly organized, displaying a big signboard where "Clara's Gift Shop" was carved. Gleamy golden walls with silver stars lost their existence as they were wholly covered with floral cyan wallpapers. The shop appeared unfamiliar to me. A woman in her mid twenties dressed just like the hippies was going through a fashion magazine.
"Are you looking for a gift?" she asked raising her left eyebrow.
"No. I'm looking for Melody. The girl who couldn't see.", I answered.
She took a gander at me putting the magazine aside.
"Her father sold me this shop two years ago however the girl was not willing to deal in." she replied.
"Where is she now?" I questioned swiftly.
"Sorry I've no idea. All I was told is that she used to live with her mother but after the death of her, she was lonesome. Her father runs a minor trade business in a town thus he took her along because he couldn't abandon his daughter." she affirmed.
"But which town? There are a myriad of towns nigh and faraway. How can she disappear without a clue?, I barely spoke feeling a lump in my throat.
She didn't have any answer to my questions so I left the shop straightaway. I was tramping the streets aimlessly. Perhaps Melody had her reasons for vanishing away like that. I was not in touch with her because she didn't own a telephone unlike everyone else had one in their homes. I had lost her. A solo isolated tear seeped from my eye, rolled over my cheek and soaked up in my pale shirt.
Only after a week I parted from my exurb and travelled back to the city. I began working for a firm and consulted my parents about permanently shifting to the city. They favoured my proffer and moved in with me. My chum leased his modish apartment to us and we started to live quite a different life within the politics of a big city.
In jam-packed subways, in crammed train stations and in chaotic streets, I still try to look for her amongst people. I reckon that someday we will bump into each other. Maybe under a cherry blossom tree, over a dusky bridge or perhaps beneath the lustrous crescent moon.
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- 6
Gail Moore
10/09/2019Beautiful story, The ending was quite sad. I was hopeful he and Melody would fall in love.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/07/2019Melody,
It is a sad but lovely story. And cultural differences do show up for those of us not familiar with how fast the world is changing. Smartphones have only been around for a bit over a decade, and those and the Internet, Google, FACEBOOK,and Twitter have made this kind of story almost impossible nowadays.
It was a very good story.
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
09/24/2019That was a sweet and lovely story, and sad as well. I suppose it is a cultural thing that I don't understand since i am not part of your culture, but I do not understand why he did not, or could not, keep in touch with her during the 4 years he was away. Surely he visited his parents at least a few times in four years, so why couldn't he visit her as well? OR, if for some reason he could not visit, he could write, or call on the phone. Perhaps she could not read his written letter, but surely someone could have read it to her. Anyway, that is the only part of your story that was lacking for me. I know it is only fiction, but I could not help but fall in love with her as a person and care about her, as you described her. And so when she had disappeared and lost her beloved shop, I grieved for her loss, and felt frustrated that the boy who also came to love her did not keep in touch with her for so long or let her know how much she meant to him. Sad ending, but I hope she is happy wherever she is. Thanks for sharing your story on Storystar, Bushra.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Bushra Shah
09/24/2019I actually wrote this story by having the early 90s scenario in my mind when contacting eachother was not as easy as it is now. Moreover the boy didn't visit his home for four years as he wanted to come back all successful. Though he was in contact with his parents he couldn't keep in touch with the girl because she didn't own a telephone and as she was blind so she couldn't read the letters either. As you said that she could have the letter read by anyone else but she had no friends like you've read in the story, he was her only friend. I hope this explanation would help you to understand about the story.
Thank you so much for admiring my work and leaving a nice comment. Stay blessed :)
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