I love the pond. The pond always whispers serenity to me - a place that is familiar like a lullaby tucked in a corner of memory. It’s never loud. It doesn’t need to be. It waits, always, with water that mirrors the sky and a silence that never feels lonely. It's a home to flora and fauna - like a living mosaic!
That afternoon, when I visited the pond - light poured gently from the sky - golden and slow, as if it wanted to linger a little longer. I stood at the edge of the pond, bubble wand in hand and blew bubbles - the bubbles formed, floated and escaped in the thin air, while in the background my daughters' giggles and chasing those bubbles, was weaving magic into the air as though they wanted to hold joy in their little palms.
I was locking this in my photographic memory, not on my cellphone but feeling each moment - the curve of a bubble before it vanished, the grass crinkled beneath a picnic blanket, the sound of my children laughing freely. And then, from the edge of that vivid joy, there came a smile from a stranger. An old woman, seated on a nearby bench, was watching me having this carefree moment. Her eyes carried warmth and something more - something ancient and familiar. For a moment, time folded and that smile reminded me of my passed away grandmother, and my heart stirred with a tender ache. I smiled back as though she was my grandmother and there was quiet contentment.
That day, I sat at the bench too long as my children enjoyed the picnic. The sun was about to set, and the color of sunlight was kissing the pond, the reflection of the colors - so beautiful - strokes of coral and amber. I thought to myself that I have never painted sunset like this, and I made a quiet promise to myself - I will paint this sunset. Even the thought of touching canvas again made a bright smile on my face. But just then, two ducks glided through the water, cutting a perfect trail in the reflection - ripples growing outward, the stillness never truly broken.
The pond also reminds me of a dream, where I'm a toddler sitting at a pond with a friend beneath the cooling moonlight, laughter spilling between us - unexpected, boundless, childlike. It felt as though we had always known one another, two toddlers dangling feet into the pond, laughing as if the fish had secrets worth giggling about.
As I'm writing this, I'm smiling. Happiness doesn't ask for much - it is so simple to be happy.
Neeta Devadiga
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