Funday Times - Story

A Windy Day
By Shireen Senadhira

The day was very windy. The postman wobbled to the gate. He rang the bicycle bell. Mrs. Deva opened her front and door and went down the path. ''Hello'' she said to the postman, as he handed over the mail to her, Before she could hardly grasp it, it was blown out of her hands and went down the path and luckily towards the front door. ''Oh my,'' she said and bent down to gather the scattered mail. As she reached the door it banged shut. She called out and Suriya opened the door for his mom.

Suri as he was called, was watching the windows open and shut with the rush of the wind. ''Mom,'' he said, ''may I go outside?'' ''Be careful,'' she said. ''It's so windy today.'' Suri opened the door. It shut with a bang. The wind blew fiercely and snatched the newly recovered mail from Mrs. Deva's hands and blew it even further into the house.

''Oh my,'' she said again. Suri ran outside and the door slammed shut again. Outside, yellow, brown and green leaves were leaping from swaying trees, landing on the roof, jumping off the roof, and then chasing one another down the street in tiny whirlwinds of merriment. Suri watched in fascination.

''If I was a leaf, I would fly clear across the world,'' Suri thought and then ran out into the garden among the swirl of colours. Mrs. Deva came to the front door. ''Suri, I have your cap. Please put it on.'' However, there was no Suri in the front garden. ''Suri?'' Suri was a leaf. He was blowing down the street with the rest of his play-mates.

An araliya leaf came close-by, touched him and moved ahead. Suri met him shortly, brushed against him, and moved further ahead. They swirled around and around, hit cars and poles, flew up into the air and then down again. ''This is fun,'' Suri thought. The araliya leaf blew in front of him. It was bright yellow with well-defined veins in brown. The sun-light shone on it giving it a brilliance never before seen by a little boy's eyes.

''Where do you think we are going?'' Suri asked the leaf. ''Does it matter?'' the leaf replied. ''Have fun. Life is short.'' ''I beg to differ,'' an older leaf said suddenly coming beside them. ''The journey may be short, but the end is the beginning.'' Suri pondered on this as best he could ponder. ''Where do we end up?''

''If the wind blows you in that direction," the old leaf said, "you will end up in the city dump.'' ''I don't want that,'' Suri said. ''Poof! What dump? If you are blown in that direction, you will fly high into the air and see things that no leaf has seen before.'' said a mango leaf.

''Follow me to the city dump,'' the araliya leaf said. ''Most of my friends are there.'' The wind blew Suri and the araliya leaf along. Suri thought of his choices. He wanted to continue to play. He liked araliya.
''Okay,'' Suri said, ''I will go with you to the dump.'' The winds shifted and Suri and araliya were blown in the direction of the city dump.

The old leaf didn't follow. He was blown further down the block and suddenly lifted up high into the air.
''Hey,'' he called out, ''the sights up here. They are spectacular. Come and see.'' Suri and araliya ignored him.

''I see something. I see the dump.'' The old leaf cried out. ''I see smoke. Come up here. I see fire.''
''I see nothing,'' araliya replied. Suri saw the fence that surrounded the city dump. He was happy to be with his friend. They would have fun in the dump.

Suddenly, Suri heard a familiar voice called out loud ''Hey.'' It was Suri's mom. Mrs. Deva wasn't going to allow her little boy run into the city dump. ''Not so fast,'' she said running and catching Suri. ''You are not allowed to play in there. Don't you see the smoke?''

Suri watched the araliya leaf blow against the fence and struggle to get over. He ran over to get it but was unable to reach it. Mrs. Deva walked over and took the leaf. She put it in her pocket. ''There,'' she said, ''it will be safe until we get home.''

Suri smiled, ran in front of his mom. He looked up into the sky. He wondered where the old leaf had gone. Perhaps one day he would see what the old leaf had seen – perhaps.

Top to the page  |  E-mail  |  views[1]
Other Funday Articles
The Lord who hunted the Aryans - Mahavamsa
The quest for the right song - Our Heritage
I can fly - A Poem for the week
Captain James Cook
A Windy Day
Winter in Norway

Reproduction of articles permitted when used without any alterations to contents and a link to the source page.
© Copyright 2008 | Wijeya Newspapers Ltd.Colombo. Sri Lanka. All Rights Reserved.| Site best viewed in IE ver 6.0 @ 1024 x 768 resolution