“To serve with Love” – my entry to the GetPublished contest”

Blog Post Title - “To serve with Love” – my entry to the GetPublished contest”

The Idea –  All through our child hood we get attached to our surroundings . As we grow, we move off  to different corners of the world leaving behind the nostalgic memories. We recount on what we had felt but never give a heed to what the life around would have experienced . The author has just experienced one such situation where he learns that nature has its own way of sensing and reciporcating. They too,  get attached and separation may have negetive impact on them as well. He tries to narrate the same through an experience of a Mango Tree. How it had been the center for all activities during his childhood and what he felt when he returned to his ancestral house after long years. The author is immensely moved by the impact on the Mango tree due to separation. The extent of impact can be felt from the excerpt...

.......... Tears tickled from his eyes. There was a churn in his stomach, emptiness in heart. Even they feel the loss. They used to serve us – and that was its way to share the love. He thought. His clasp to his friend grew stronger. A reassurance he needed........

The story is a first hand experience of the author himself . It has developed from his child hood but realized only later . Its thus the understanding of relationship from the observation he had after he returns . The story and the protagonist has been personified to entails a very sour truth that we are forgetting in todays  materialistic life. The situation has beendramatized to make it more interesting. The story is in a narrative dialogue form to keep it lucid with touch of local dialect of the village area , where this actually happened to have the essence and feel.

........ The gate screeched open. Warm air laden with aroma of heated dust gushed out. As if it welcomed him with both arms. The screech, perhaps - a longing ache. Every corner of the house, its belongings, the neighborhood, the atmosphere – all appeared to be in its place telling stories of their own. Ravi entered his ancestral house holding the hand of his girl-friend, pointing to every nook and recounting proud memories associated with them.......

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal andHarperCollins India.