It was a moth. A moth that kept her covered. The television had the Champions trophy flashed loudly with Harsha Bhogle’s commentary. “The Mayor of Castor Bridge” lay on the couch upside down. She was cuddled quietly underneath the sheets listening to songs on the ipod. She kept herself entertained for what looked like an hour. Occasionally, opening the covers to guage the location of the moth roughly. I’m sure she overcame her nature’s call as well. All for the big moth that flew ransom from room to room flapping its wing in sheer joy of accomplishing the unknown. It had kept my girl from watching her favourite sport on TV and even visiting the washroom!!
It took my heroic husband to slowly chase the moth out with just a piece of paper. That done, my otherwise brave girl came off her covers to look at the TV, read her Thomas Hardy and speak big on the match in progress. She talked eloquently with the father about her strong views on the captaincy, how Champions trophy was streets ahead in its class than IPL and of course had a good word for Tom Moody’s suit and tie! :) She braved the night to get us ice cream from the nearby shop and the day ended with a lot of thoughts streaming through my mind.
Fear is unknown till it is tapped with experience. Behind the very brave faces and acts can be dormant fears that get into vicious circles! It makes the ordinary very extraordinary. Its only from these burnt ashes do people rise to face the deception of this true world of falsehood. All of a sudden the ‘true world’ sounds a perfect oxymoron! Its about power and the numbers game!
The moth was chased. But a new one will return. I believe the next one will learn to get under covers if she doesn’t stay out of the covers.
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