Saturday, March 21, 2009

A Tale Of A Curse



Long long ago, in a land far far away, once recided a beautiful town. Upon a hillock at a little distance from the town stood a manor. The manor was as huge and as magnificient as no one had ever seen. Travellers who came to this town were particularly baffled by the manor's grand stature. So was the manor, a signature of, the town's pride.

Nobody however knew who really lived in this manor. Day after day the manor stood on the lonely hill top, away from the daily hustle and bustle of the town. They all believed the manor was either abandoned or perhaps, it was deeply cursed until one fine day a hansome prince, who having lost his way while he chased a deer in the jungle, came riding to the town.

Like all the travellers before him, the prince too was taken by the manor. As he inquired about the manor, he found a sudden hunger burn within him. He decided to venture into the manor and find out who lived there.

When the towns folk learnt of this they warned him. "Kindly, Oh noble prince, donot ride into that place, they say, It has been cursed. Besides a man as gentle as yeself should not be loitering around calling for dangers. Ye should let go of this woeful idea and take the east".

The prince didnot believe the unlearned, innocent townsfolk's words. "Cursed? eh!" he thought and rode away on his sturdy red horse who had golden locks, his quest for adventure scorching his youthful nerves.

He rode way up the steep hill. The path was unwelcome. Much vegetation which had gathered with all the lonely years was now blocking the way, having the prince to shove and slash the twiners, leaves, stems, branches with his sword. His herculean task forcing him every second to give up and go back. But the prince was determined. He moved on.

It was almost sunset when he reached the aged manor. He found the gate was not bolted as it should have been. It stood ajar, as if it expected him. He entered, trampling on the dry leaves which lay carpeting the ground. A mystic silence bound him. He thought, "May be those men were right, this place is indeed cursed."

With the slow breeze, a slight melody reached his ears. It didnot break the silence. It floated smoothly to him as if it knew precisely what he had been thinking that moment. It was a song. Someone was singing it. A beautiful feminine chord. A lovely melancholic note in a strange foreign tongue.

How long had he been standing there mesmerized, it is difficult to tell. In a daze he and his horse stood together on the fallen leaves of their memories, falling in love with the tune. He remembered his childhood, his untainted days when he felt as if, no dragon could ever touch him as long as his mother held him in her bosom. He remembered the tussel for his rightful throne, back in his country. The dragon of all corruption blazing fire at him, now that his mother is no longer with him, to embrace him, in her arms.

A chilly tear awoke him and he realised where he was. Tugging his horse awake, he slowly and carefully proceeded towards the manor, his quest still simmering within him, his memories still aching in his heart.

He entered the manor. A place no living soul had ever tread since before long. He followed the song to a large dark hall, where through a lone open window fell a thin beam of what was last of the sun. As his footsteps echoed through the hall, the singing stopped and a black creature flew away from the dusty, cobweb leaden chandelier above.

He understood the source of the sad harmony which had kept him captivated all this while. A figure stood in the hall, facing the window, through which came the mild sunbeam. It was a woman, dressed in finery. She was perhaps a wicked witch. Or may be a fine damsel in distress, kept entrapped in a silver casket of curse. He had no answers. All he thought her of, was a Queen, a Regina of her own world. Her disarming song, her weapon. Her wait for companionship, her company.

She stood facing the light, so all he could see was her shadowy profile hidden in the glare. As he was thinking whether he should ask her to show herself so that he could talk to her, the shadow spoke of its own accord. " Welcome" she said, "Welcome to my home. I know why you have brought yourself to me. Its been long since anybody has been here, as, they say who ever in the past has, has never returned." The prince was too clouded with doubts and too spellbound by the voice to realise what the figure was saying to him. He boldly stood gaping at her when her words should have made him think of saving his life.

"I am greatly honoured by your presence." She continued, "It was a prophecy, now a curse for me. I am bound to wait by this manor, for that man, who would break all barriers and come seeking for me. Who would fight my pride, Whose grace would deprive this manor of its misfortune. That man, who would bestow his love on my soul and untie my self from its pain. That man, would accept to accept me. To that man I shall forever belong."

He stood aghast. Still unable to comprehend a single of her rythmic words. Only one thought was churning his mind, "who is she? Is she as charming, as serene, as radiant a beauty as her voice is, as her stature is, as her promise is? will she suffice to stand to jealousy of my fellowmen? will her face make me fall for her charisma as I fell for her tune?". But alas! none of what he wished was true. That was perhaps the reason why she stood facing the light, away from what is perhaps darkness to her. Her heart screeched, "Kiss me oh noble gallant. Kiss me just for once. I implore you to not leave me amidst this disparity any longer. My heart is tired. It can harbour no longer this immense wait. tarry not, Kiss me".

Did the Prince kiss her and lift the curse off her? Or did he, overlooking which so far had stolen his heart, having failed to provoke courage for a little compromise, turn and gallop away on his red horse with golden mane?

The moon sailed in the night sky. The tree tops rustled in the breeze and the town down the valley, snored away softly, in their gentle gentle dreams, in the warm lap, of their perfect perfect world.



To be continued............

1 comment:

trekntrolla said...

A moment described so dramatically.. gives feel of being in a theatre..

waiting for the next section..