The pied crested cuckoo is losing sight while watching at the deep blue sky; whatever is visible, an orange in half, round beneath a blue roof from east to west and north to south. Not a single bunch of scary shaped nimbus clouds is floating by the flaming wind above it’s head. Being a lover of rain, it’s desire to end the thirst after waiting so long with bated breath for the first drop of water from the troposphere vapor, the pied crested cuckoo has started singing to it’s beloved,” Show me your heart, shower the soft rain; I am thirsty for water, take away my pain”. Sun has begun emitting the scorching heat over the last couple of months. Dust from gray paddy field and the flaming wind are flumping weaves of heat as a copper plate into the furnace to burn the bare foot at a near distance. Every single drop of sweat is strolling down from the forehead to lips taste like fresh salty lemon water in the deep desert of Sahara. Prayers from every theist and the atheist are echoing in the heaven,” Save our lives by the rain from the sky”.
The “Rain of God” has eloped with his new lover northeast-rainforest to begin a rain dance; after he is being threatened to die due to deforestation takes place here to make a new Nuclear power Plant. The fragrance of wet mud is only a sense in the memory storage of left brain without having a real meaning to the right brain sensors. Wherever someone’s eyes go, it is only waves of mirage. Hungry children have started dreaming the sun as a medium sized yellow-reddish chili pizza. They fall asleep with a dream,” Daddy will go in the field to bring new crops; we will eat rice and keep our pizza for our dinner during coming winter. Their dreams, so, their innocence have no place in reality as their small brains do not understand, “Daddy has no work left in the field; this year all crops are half burnt alive”. They will be a burden on their parents as their food reserve will end within few more weeks”. Local government has declared this village affected by famine.
Uncertainty and fear from the famine is running higher among the villagers. An orphan boy from the village is busy with returning the smile on everyone’s face. His family is everyone here while he has no identity. If anyone from his village dies by the curse of famine, he will be an orphan again. He has not seen his parents, but his teenage mind says thousand unspoken words through his beating heart. When breeze touches him on his right shoulder, he fells, “this is his mom”, she is walking all alone on his way by matching his footsteps on the sea shore. She is indeed his mom, whom he has never seen. Every time, he cries for something, mom touches his chin, and her wet eyes depict the feeling inside her heart. Her silence draws a line in the air by his imagination, “she is here for him, no need to cry again”.
The moon is flashing white neon light to let the world know, “if things are extremely painful, there are some thing else rather than the pain which is extremely beautiful, it is you”. Just open your eyes when I am here, you will see it is a new beginning. Your pain and sorrow will disappear with a fresh fell of simplicity to do something great. Rhythm of life will return with bird’s serenade in the dawn. Do not give up, only feel and realize how big you are as a human,” Why don’t you do something great?”
On hearing the “moon talk”, he runs to the paddy field with a spade and starts digging the rugged surface of the earth to make a water reservoir. Two days have gone by like two years as the small hands are showing small blisters. He is half broken with pain and thirst while his smiling face is consoling to his heart, “he can do it and he needs to keep it running for few more hours”. If the sun can be known by it’s burning power, He can be known by his strong desire. He is a human; he can do more than his expectations for the sake of other’s life.
His effort to do something for others without any expectation has brought light of hope in the mind of the villagers. They have contributed voluntary labor and within two weeks a water reservoir is ready to store the rain water. Now the local government herald the season of showers, monsoon. This time every drop of water will not go waste. The orphan boy has learnt greatest truth of his life, “if you are not selfish, people are with you, but you have to be there to save their life”. If the “Rain of God” does not come back to spend his vacation for next two years, villagers will not get affected by famine. The crops will never look like half burnt. Hungry children will eat pizza, not looking by to the burning sun to have it in their dream.
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