Only a hump

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

The juices of stories feed many lives and friendships... Many stories and personalities of nature are yet to be heard and discovered..

He was froze in between- Not only in space but in time also. His towering shape showed the huge space he covered. But for how long he has remained frozen in time is still not known. May be millions of years, which seemed forever. His grandeur awed the surrounding trees, his stillness stroke jealousy in the busy river and his ambition threatened even the sky. He demanded respect without asking for it. The whistling trees, gurgling river and rumbling sky often talked to each other, but Saruman stood silent. Only a hump on earth- No stories to tell.

Saruman would not even sway a finger when trees around him got uprooted in storm. He would allow water to touch only his ankles when the river was madly dancing to the whims of flood. Even when the sky succumbed to the roaring thunder, he would remain unflinched. For years, all considered him dead. But Saruman was far from that. He was a forever living mountain with big ears and no mouth- Two huge arms and no legs. This is why he believed in listening and doing. As he had no mouth, so he could not tell others what he listened to and with no legs, he had no option but to stay in the place where he was born. Though millions of years old was he, he still remembered the day he was born from "Earth". Her mother also had no mouth like him - Only two big breasts feeding all and a big heart. Saruman was not sure if his mother gave him some of her big heart. So safely burried inside his core,  he sometimes strained to listen to his own heart beat.It was a shock for him to find that he was formed not by the love of his mother's big heart but by her wrath. Years of bottled up pain caused by the ungratefulness of those whom she fed, had erupted that day like molten lava. It would have shredded life around her in pieces but was stopped in time by the love of her big heart. This was how Saruman was born- By her mother's pain, anger and love. His mother's wrath during birth made sure that he becomes fearsome in the eyes of others so that he is not exploited the way she was. But she could not help but give some of her big heart too. This was what the problem was, Saruman used to think. His intimidating stature scared all but his heart longed for friends and stories..

When sun hung at his back, he heard the stories exchanged between the tree, river and sky. The river did most of the talking about her long travels in the whole world. In constantly rising and falling voice, which ringed almost like a song, she would tell how lands, weather and people changed as she coursed her journey. Most of the times, after telling half of the stories, Rebecca would say, "You know I am so busy travelling, I sometimes forget the many stories I witness everyday". Rooted in his place, Moot would give a satisfying smile- "I am glad that I could hear atleast half of your story". Moot also had his own  stories of his leaves, flowers and the world underground, but to him, they seemed lesser as compared to Rebecca. Hung from above like a blue umbrella, Blugon would only nod. Not so much intrigued by their stories of below, Blugon presented before them his own stories of stars with an upturned and proud face. But Saruman would give both his ears to  all three of them, with sun still hanging to him. So, deeply did his deep-seated heart longed for stories that even when the sun slipped and mooon climbed, he would listen to them while they slept. Never asleep was he, when Blugon took deep breaths at night, Moot snored and Rebecca floated in her dreams. He knew that during day, Blugon kept some stories to himself out of pride, Moot did that out of shame and Rebecca out of forgetfulness. Saruman gathered them all, Though he had never talked to them but knew them better than they knew each other. Perhaps, more than they knew themselves. He was an unknown and invisble fourth friend to them who kept their stories safe in his deep chest of treausure locked from inside.

The course of stories and the story-tellers did not change for years until that day when Saruman noticed that Rebecca is becoming thinner, Moot drier and Blugon hotter. The sun hung more than usual in Blugon, demanding more waters from Rebeccca but she was not paid back enough rain. Eventually, Moot also withered. The harshness of weather made them weary so, now they shared stories less often.With no stories to tell and listen to, their spirits also dipped as the days passed. Wrought like iron by his mother, Saruman remained untouched from outside and his spirits remained up as he could listen to untold stories. But what about the piece of his big heart burried deep in his core? This was the problem, Saruman thought again. His heart did not keep him at rest when his three friends were suffering . "Now is the time to stand for them"- Resolved Saruman. He kept himself in constant vigil for every cloud which passed. Days passed and the whimsical clouds denied to pass above the now almost dried Rebecca and the dull Moot. Saruman's patience has crossed millions of years and days were nothing for him.What kept troubleing him was his big unsettled heart worried for his friends. A month passed like this under his strict vigil, when a heavy laden cloud passed above Saruman. Just at the border of his reach was the cloud, when he lifted his arms, caught the cloud and squeezed it with all his strength.

Rain tumbled  from the winged cloud which Rebecca drank to dance wildly. Moot let it seep slowly and Blugon gave a sigh of relief. More than relief and joy,they were amazed that the lonely mountain which seemed dead to them had remained their invisible friend for years. Moot and other trees climbed on Saruman to give him a big hug and remained there forever. Rebecca changed her course and remained close to his borders. And Blugon bent a little where Saruman stood, so he looked taller.

Saruman still stood as ever,  frozen in space, silent and fearsome but now his treasure trove was unlocked.as his stories flowed with the river to every corner of world. Now, he was froze in space but not in time..


Submitted: May 19, 2021

© Copyright 2021 varsha06. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Ann Sepino

What a lovely story! I love the personification of nature and the emphasis on friendship. The folkloric narrative voice works well with the pacing. Thank you for sharing this here!

Thu, May 20th, 2021 3:08am

Author
Reply

It is an encouragement for an emerging writer to get such loving feedbacks:-) Thanks for sharing your love

Thu, May 27th, 2021 4:52am

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