"pitaji. . .kya tum use dekhte ho jab tum mujhe dekhte ho?"
he laid among the flowers, taking comfort in their scent. it was an unusually cool late spring morning, and the sun hid behind the clouds. the breeze picked up his fur, tossing petals into his pelt, tangling the longer ends (he had yet to fully shed his winter coat).
it was peaceful here, a gentle symphony of birds and bees, and yet all he could hear was his father's silence.
"father. . .do you see him when you look at me?"
rajendra's silence had told him everything he needed to know. and so surya had not spoken another word after that, and the dark man soon had passed, plagued with fever and chills. he'd sat to the side, staring ahead, only rousing when his sister had come and pressed her muzzle into his shoulder.
"vah chala gaya hai." he is gone.
surya pressed his face into his outstretched forepaws, feeling grief overwhelm him once more. a small sound escaped his mouth, slipping past his tightened throat. he wanted to mourn rajendra properly, yet all he'd ever know was the sound of silence.
"pitaji. . .kya tum use dekhte ho jab tum mujhe dekhte ho?"
he would never escape the man that had shattered truth, that had defiled his family. he would never escape his pelt of browns and grays, such an aberration against his parents' night-dark fur.
aditya must pay. his father would not be avenged until surya took matters into his own paws.
for now, he wept.
he laid among the flowers, taking comfort in their scent. it was an unusually cool late spring morning, and the sun hid behind the clouds. the breeze picked up his fur, tossing petals into his pelt, tangling the longer ends (he had yet to fully shed his winter coat).
it was peaceful here, a gentle symphony of birds and bees, and yet all he could hear was his father's silence.
"father. . .do you see him when you look at me?"
rajendra's silence had told him everything he needed to know. and so surya had not spoken another word after that, and the dark man soon had passed, plagued with fever and chills. he'd sat to the side, staring ahead, only rousing when his sister had come and pressed her muzzle into his shoulder.
"vah chala gaya hai." he is gone.
surya pressed his face into his outstretched forepaws, feeling grief overwhelm him once more. a small sound escaped his mouth, slipping past his tightened throat. he wanted to mourn rajendra properly, yet all he'd ever know was the sound of silence.
"pitaji. . .kya tum use dekhte ho jab tum mujhe dekhte ho?"
he would never escape the man that had shattered truth, that had defiled his family. he would never escape his pelt of browns and grays, such an aberration against his parents' night-dark fur.
aditya must pay. his father would not be avenged until surya took matters into his own paws.
for now, he wept.
english | hindi
May 25, 2021, 11:16 AM
The sound of weeping drew the caretaker-turned-vagabond off his intended course with some small measure of reluctance. The pull was less desire and more habit, not so much instinctual as ingrained. Coriander was tired of taking the role of guardian, giver of protection and comfort and advice that he wasn't even sure he would follow himself, given the chance. It'd always felt forced and fake to him, and this encounter was already shaping up to be more of the same. Much as he hated it, the Redleaf-DiSarinno felt an obligation. More often than not, passersby would remain just that: momentary spectators, useless and selfish. The alternative was loathsome, true, but Coriander refused to be one of those people who simply let others suffer without lifting a paw to help.
"Hey, you — you alright?" Cori called out when he caught sight of the earthen male, ears drawn up as he put on his best "concerned stranger" face. He shook his coat out a little, pawsteps slowing to a stop as he reached a conversational distance. Dude looked pretty miserable. Suddenly Coriander felt guilty for his reluctance; it was so typical and selfish of him, wasn't it? It had always seemed to him that it took a rare goodness of the soul to actually enjoy caring for others, and he'd always been acutely aware of his own lack of this goodness. But he tried to make up for it. He really did. Else he wouldn't have been found here, conversing with a wet-faced stranger.
"Hey, you — you alright?" Cori called out when he caught sight of the earthen male, ears drawn up as he put on his best "concerned stranger" face. He shook his coat out a little, pawsteps slowing to a stop as he reached a conversational distance. Dude looked pretty miserable. Suddenly Coriander felt guilty for his reluctance; it was so typical and selfish of him, wasn't it? It had always seemed to him that it took a rare goodness of the soul to actually enjoy caring for others, and he'd always been acutely aware of his own lack of this goodness. But he tried to make up for it. He really did. Else he wouldn't have been found here, conversing with a wet-faced stranger.
May 31, 2021, 03:32 PM
at the question—completely unaware of the approach in his mourning, his instincts be damned—he turned to see a man cloaked in smoke and storm clouds. he lifted his chin to nod by impulse, froze, and then slowly shook his head.
surya hiccupped, just barely saving himself from another round of tears.
nahin,surya said, eyes shifting downward. he swiped his muzzle with a forepaw, like a human trying to wipe away tears. it did nothing for him, though; his face was well and truly saturated, but the gesture was a slight comfort all the same.
mera papaji mar chu—halfway through the sentence, it occurred to him that the question had come in common tongue. shit, he thought, and shook his head.
sorry. my papaji—my father. . .died. and i. . .
surya hiccupped, just barely saving himself from another round of tears.
i don't know what to do.
english | hindi
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