Christmas memories

A free adaptation of my short story 'The Cristmas Bells" from the diary 'Far from O. Henry and Maupassant'.

What would you do if given the power to erase all bad memories from your mind? Wouldn’t it be nice?

 

My niece was erasing the scribbling she did on the paper. She always liked to erase the picture she drew. Sometime she opened some drawing Apps specially made for children, in her dad’s Tab and drew pictures. Then she erased it nicely. All I should do was to assess her.  I should tell her ‘Well done girl’ or should express some exclamations like ‘Wow!’, ‘Superb!’ etc with a loud voice.

 ‘How nicely she draws pictures’ I thought.

Everybody in the house was busy with Christmas decorations. We had to do something to welcome the Carol rounds which had been expected to come late at night. My brother was making a crib and mom was busy with baking Christmas cake that would be served on the Christmas Eve.

I looked at the guitar kept in the right corner of the room. That was a Christmas gift presented by my love, years ago, her last Christmas gift. It was a nice Fender guitar which she had specially bought for me and embellished with red ribbons and beautiful heart shaped objects. I remembered that Christmas Eve when I went to her house to receive the gift. She asked me to play her favourite Christmas song ‘The Silver Bells’. After that we kissed for a long time. The kisses she gave me remained evergreen in my heart. We had been loved for many years and cherished our dreams.

‘How is this flower uncle?  My niece asked.

‘Very nice but why do you erase it?’ I asked.

‘Just like that’ she replied.

I remembered my love’s words on that Christmas Eve.

‘If Christmas was not there, humanity would be dried up. I’m desperately looking forward to our marriage.We will rock our Christmas with our Children in the future’.

She was in high spirit. We helped her mother make her favourite Christmas recipes and spent several hours on the terrace counting the stars and dreaming about the future. That was our last Christmas. She didn’t wait for the next one. She committed suicide in the following August. The reason… I didn’t Know. I didn’t search for the reason or rather I would say I couldn’t. My heart was broken and remained to be silent for several years.

‘What should I draw next?’ my niece asked.

‘A tree or a bird’ I answered.

‘We should have a new infant Jesus. It’s a bit faded’ my brother said.

I just walked towards the corner and took my guitar. I played ‘Silver Bells’ on it.

I remembered the day she left me for ever. She was extremely happy in the previous night .Even though she had been consulting for depression, she found  energetic and happy. Wishing me ‘good night’ three times, she said she could love no one but me because according to her, it was I who had taught her how to love. She promised me of a surprise visit in the following week. Next day at about five in the morning I got a message from her colleague in Infosys ‘Reach as soon as possible in Bangalore. It’s urgent’

There I found her silently lying in the coffin with lifeless emotions and a heart with no rhythm.

The legal authority allowed us to take her body home without a post-mortem. I was grateful to them for at least they allowed her leave the world without her body torn. That was their humble tribute to her.

At last when her body was taken, I fainted and got admitted in the hospital. There, lying on the bed. I silently looked out through the window. I saw the leaves stand still. I felt a silence in the nature. Looking on the small birds flying far away in the blue sky I asked in mind.

‘Why did you fly away my dear, leaving me alone in the world?’

 

Years have gone. All these had happened before my niece was borne.

‘Now she is five years old and has started helping her dad decorate the Christmas tree’, I thought

Years of silence, hardship and the struggle I did to recover from a collapsed state, I wished I could get the power to forget all those memories, to escape from depression like erasing a picture as my niece did.

I played ‘Silent Night’ and kissed the guitar without attracting the notice of any one in the room, even my niece.

An afterthought.

‘What would I select to be erased if got the power, the memories with her? or that of my silent years?

They are inter linked each other, saturated each other and one has no existence without the other’. I thought.

I felt that still she was with me and I lived because of all these memories. They made me a three folded person,

Humble,

Hardworking

and hopeful.

‘Let it be as God had created us. People are lead by their memories. At least their thoughts are lead by them. The whole world is lead by memories what we call history.’ I thought.

‘These memories taught me to float like a log in the deep ocean and to keep moving with hope. These reminiscence of her came me like a Christmas gift sent from far in the sky.

“How is this bird uncle’ my niece asked.

‘Very nice, as sweet as our memories which can’t be erased.’ I said.