My early memories of bedtimes are filled with stories and songs. My father would read or tell us a story before sleep. My favourite ones were always the horror ones. My brother hated them, naturally! What isn't natural would be a little girl eagerly waiting to be told a horror story!
I loved all of them, stories from all over the world, prince and princesses, ghosts and demons, stories with morals and stories with a history. Some nights when our father would be away from home, his duty of our bedtime ritual would be overseen by our mother. We would beg and cry to be told a story until our mother finally conceded. But it was always the same one. Always! And till now I haven't been able to decipher the point of the story.
Once upon a time, a long long time ago, a leaf and an unbaked earthen pot decided to go to Kashi (Varnasi-a holy place for the Hindus in India). They met on the way and became fast friends. One day during their journey, a strong wind began to blow. The earthen pot understanding his friends predicament promptly sat on the leaf so that it wouldn't fly away. After the wind stopped blowing, the two friends continued on their journey when suddenly, it began to rain. The leaf promptly sat on the earthen pot to protect it from the dissolving rain. After the rain stopped, their journey continued. A few days into the journey, the weather turned dour. The wind started blowing and it started raining. The earthen pot dissolved in the rain while the leaf was blown away into places unknown.
And that my friends was the exasperating story we were told by our mother again and again until we ourselves never asked for another one from her. So, what do you make of this story? Is it really a story without a moral or just a made up story for nagging children to ponder upon?!
Cheers,
Until next time.
I loved all of them, stories from all over the world, prince and princesses, ghosts and demons, stories with morals and stories with a history. Some nights when our father would be away from home, his duty of our bedtime ritual would be overseen by our mother. We would beg and cry to be told a story until our mother finally conceded. But it was always the same one. Always! And till now I haven't been able to decipher the point of the story.
Once upon a time, a long long time ago, a leaf and an unbaked earthen pot decided to go to Kashi (Varnasi-a holy place for the Hindus in India). They met on the way and became fast friends. One day during their journey, a strong wind began to blow. The earthen pot understanding his friends predicament promptly sat on the leaf so that it wouldn't fly away. After the wind stopped blowing, the two friends continued on their journey when suddenly, it began to rain. The leaf promptly sat on the earthen pot to protect it from the dissolving rain. After the rain stopped, their journey continued. A few days into the journey, the weather turned dour. The wind started blowing and it started raining. The earthen pot dissolved in the rain while the leaf was blown away into places unknown.
And that my friends was the exasperating story we were told by our mother again and again until we ourselves never asked for another one from her. So, what do you make of this story? Is it really a story without a moral or just a made up story for nagging children to ponder upon?!
Cheers,
Until next time.
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