By Neel Anil Panicker
It’s the morning after Raghu’s landed in his nondescript village in India’s Punjab, post catching an all night taxi ride straight from New Delhi airport where he had alighted after taking a long haul flight from San Francisco, the city that enables him to enjoy the good life, the fruits and desserts of his hard earned labour as a much in demand software engineer.
Misty eyes scan lush green sugarcane fields once mere barren land and beyond that at the hill, still standing ramrod straight and flush with thick foliage, just as he remembered it back when as a mere thirteen-year-old we would frolic around with his friends, playing myriad games, hiding and chasing one another around enormous boulders and deep crevices.
Amar, Manjeet, Nikhil, Karthik, and Rishi…his best buddies of yore.
The first, he recalls, taller and stronger than all of them; the others much like him, of medium height and weight, but all united with the universal need to enjoy the littlest of pleasures that a life in a remote north Indian village could offer to impressionable, excitable teens in a world where mobile phone and television screens had not yet invaded.
And then his eyes spot it__the well; it stood there at the corner adjacent to the rice fields and abutting the lane that led to his house; a simple brick laid oblong well, an oasis of water that quenched the parched throats of all, a well that held water in its belly all through the year.
As his gaze stays transfixed on it, his mind travels back in time to one bright summer morning
twenty years ago when he had ‘mistakenly’ pushed his sister down its cavernous walls, her heart wrenching cries for help still tearing asunder his ears, her terror struck eyes piercing into his own as he helplessly watched her tiny helpless self get sucked into its deep waters.
©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #sixsentencestories #315words
Six Sentence Stories
- Six sentences no more ,no less
- Any genre
- Use this week’s cue which is WELL
- LINK UP