Down came the parachute

Kimo was sitting by the sea; waves splurging onto her bare legs and then receding back to its source. It was a small quaint village on the outskirts of South Goa- teeming with coconut trees, sandy coiled snails, and crabs peeping out from swanky bushes waiting for the nightfall. She had procured a few seashells to create a neckpiece for her short slender neck.

It was noontime. Strong, imminent sunrays fell on her tender young skin. She had just entered the perimeter of adolescence and often found herself clumsy and out of space; unable to divulge her tyranny to anyone in particular.

As she felt dizzy, she could see her parents talking to a local: arranging for a speed boat from where they were planning for a parachute ride. The sea was calm, the rocks squaring out from the sea as the tides went down. Kimo was reveling at the mere thought of rising high with the parachute.

"Kimo, come here, the boat is ready," her mother gesticulated.

She took long, heavy steps; her thick coarse hair fell over her countenance, restricting a clear view of her parents. As she approached the boat, she saw a familiar face-- her friend Suri. She didn't expect her presence here. Dressed in a white cropped top and denim shorts, she talked to Kimo in a low reverberating voice.

"What was the answer to the second question, part two in science?" she enquired with a suspicious look.

As she recalled the answer, her mother called again and she went away, heaving a sigh of relief.

She was reveling in the parachute ride-- the clouds smiling at her, birds flying by, her father singing a medley and she, seeping in the vicarious pleasure in full measure.

"See Papa, Kimo is here too," she could hear Suri calling her father. As she turned around, she found another known, impudent face.

"Now we can revise the tables here, Kimo," he gave a wry smile as he uttered those words.

There was suddenly a lot of noise and commotion; her blurred vision was now more obscure, and with a fluttering sound, down came the parachute. She thumped onto the ground and woke up from sleep. There was no Suri around her.

She never knew her mathematics teacher was Suri's father. Was he?

She was still in the boat, her head rested on her father's right shoulder. She had fallen asleep soon after she embarked on it.

The sweet la-la song

comes to my mind

sings in my heart

minus the tables

everything is fine

when you are

in a parachute

under the sun...

By Nandini Sengupta

@metaphors_of_life