Writing is simple,but not easy.

January 16, 2014

Guddu's Story



The hills have eyes.

Its true. I found out that night while walking uphill.


The overnight snow had made the walking path quite   vulnerable. The sharp edges of broken pebbles and rock      chips mixed with mud and snow made for  a walkers            nightmare. Usually,I walked six to eight times everyday quite comfortably.Though towards the end of the day it would get quite tough,but I would still make it to the top.I was not alone.There were others walking as well,and it always gave me support and    encouragement.

I never could understand why we needed to carry the load everyday? They came in all shapes and sizes, some had really bad odor and some loads were simply back breaking.I  tried my best to keep going but every now and then I would stop to take a breather.My master would get wild at me.He whipped me,abused me and kicked between my legs.It hurt. My neck bled when my master clenched his fist.

It was just after sunset and there was no moon in sight.My master never came to see me as he would usually do every night. He would never miss giving me food even if we had a fight early in the day. I was worried for my master today.
I didn’t worry about the stiff winter chill across my face and snowflakes that dotted the skyline. The place soon emptied and I was alone standing under a thick cloud cover and snow fall. I stood at the foot of those hills watched others go by as usual.As it grew colder and windier,at first I hesitated to move from my fixed place, but then I ventured to a nearby shed.

Its then I saw something quite extraordinary. A rock tumbled from the top of the hill and stopped in front of me.It was not an ordinary rock.It had a flat top,as if someone had just sliced the uneven part on top and the bottom firmly gripped into the ground.

Before I could unravel the flat rock mystery,another identical rock came tumbling down. And within minutes a barrage of rocks came rolling down. Was it an earthquake? I don’t know.It was a bit confusing and scary considering that there was no sound in the vicinity.
There was snow everywhere,except on those rocks. As I lifted my eyes,I could see the rocks had formed a path leading on to the hills.I was inexplicably drawn out of my shed and stepped on top of the first rock. Was it trying to show me a way? I set foot on the second rock out of unstoppable curiosity and before I could bat an eyelid,I was walking on top of the rocks at a brisk pace.

This was the same difficult hill I would walk up and down everyday, but today it all          seemed so unfamiliar.For a minute I did  think all of this was a dream, but it wasn’t, even after I had shaken my head three times!
At precisely the two hundred and thirtieth step ,it became clear to me.I saw a red stain on the white snow.It was master.He lay there helpless,hope less,motionless ,and perhaps lifeless.He had been hit by a boulder.

I did consider, albeit quite momentarily, but certainly, leaving him right there and walking back,but I didn’t.I stopped to think.I took a moment to recount my journey on the hill. The steepness never tired me, the mud and snow didn’t slow me,the rock chips didn’t hurt me and moreover,I was not tired anymore either. I managed to wake up my master, and all he said was 'Guddu I knew you would come', I nodded and brought him back to  town.

The hills have eyes I concluded.




Gyanban Thoughts : The story is a narration by a young pony.The inspiration for this fairytale came from a little pony called Guddu,I saw in Kufri. The locals used their mules and ponies to carry people up the hill and back for money. The irony was that neither was the money enough for the master to feed himself and his horses nor was it easy on the pony to carry overweight people up the steep hill.
As a result the masters would whip,kick and shout to keep the ponies moving. The quicker they finished the ride the better chance to earn more money,while the tourists had the   time of their lives.

I realised somebody's joy, was someones pain.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

5 comments:

  1. beautifully penned. My heart goes out to the animals made to carry the the load of human'kind'

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  2. :-) suddenly while reading eyes got blurry.....Really sensitive GB and well written. Touched the fine chords!

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  3. :-) suddenly while reading eyes got blurry.....Really sensitive GB and well written. Touched the fine chords!

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  4. It is terribly sad the conditions in which these horses and their masters live. Yet, look at his unfailing loyalty still standing by his master. Animals are just so amazing!

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  5. An excellent piece of creative writing. I loved the narration of this poignant tale of a pony.

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