This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 30; the thirtieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
The Following fiction won the Silver at Blog-a-ton 30. A warm thanks for everyone who voted for the same.
The Snap-
The fiction-
“Papa papa, the sun is drowning….. The sun is drowning…”
Shouted the small girl as she came in tears, her outstretched
hands searching for him. Her pink frock peppered with wet sand tussled around
making way for her tiny feet scrambling forward. Her tussled
hair swayed around, flirting with the roaming swirls of wind.
He bent down to greet his five year old, his calm fluid gaze
meeting capturing her exquisite child eyes. Eyes that right now were filled
with concern, a whole hearted concern tinged with passion, an intense burning
passion, a kid’s passion held with all the abandonment in the world. Her voice
tumbled out of her in parts, not waiting for her to get her breath back.
“Papa….. Papa…….. The sun’s drowning. The sun ………. drowning”
She paused and raised her tiny arms towards the coast.
“We need to do something.” She turned and looked at him. “Don’t
we??”
He moved a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes and
stuffed them in her easy braids, dried her tears in his neatly pressed shirt
sleeves, lifted her of her chubby feet and started to walk following her hand’s
direction.
The evening beach was a multitude of activity. A few late joggers
plodding across the sand, quite a few bunches of kids playing, some along the
coast running with the waves, a few industrious ones building sand castles,
some just chasing each other, a few teens playing football with the goal posts
marked in sand, people just sitting, relaxing taking in the dusk, it’s simmering
colors washing along each rushing wave’s frolic and froth, ample echoes of
laughter and joy mixing with the warm wind and it’s moisture laden fingers, the
beach was brimming with life spilling at its seams.
And amidst them, he reached to where his daughter was
leading him; a few teenagers sitting around in the waves, joking among
themselves, laughing at the world, at themselves, at anything and everything, that
picked their flight of fancy. Their pretty beach shirts stood out, vibrant and
playful, a bold display of their gay and festive mood. They turned around just in
time to see the girl say in her voice laden with anxiety.
“Look papa…… The sun’s drowning. It’s sinking, sinking slowly
into water”
The youngsters sitting around started to laugh, seeing that
their prank on the kid was working just fine. One of them teased.
“A sad day indeed, for the sun to drown.” A few wild guffaws
followed.
The kid shouted back. “I have brought my father.”
“Oh Really!! And what’s he going to do.” They challenged
back her innocent claim.
“He will save the sun.” his daughter’s chirpy voice sounded
firm and decided.
He looked across at the shimmering expanse of water. The sun
was indeed in its last phase of the day’s travel. A shower of orange hews silhouetting
the world against itself, a lavish splash of shadows running along the line of
the coast. The last embers of the sun’s ring were resonating from the other end
of the horizon, from its drowning depths perhaps.
He looked at the people teasing his daughter and herself stout
& defiant making her stand against them, holding on firmly to him. He couldn’t
help but smile to himself and iterate to her in a calm voice.
“Yes, my girl we will save the sun.”
He calmly looked around at everyone laughing and repeated
the same slowly, tasting each and every syllable, relishing at the mighty sound
of its absurd claim.
“Yes, my girl we will save the sun.”
“But, how shall we do it??” he quizzed her.
His daughter replied determined. “Lasso it papa……”
“Like wonder women”
“Yes papa”
“Hmhm……. For that, we need to bring the sun closer to us, to
reach out and lasso it.” He paused thoughtfully for a few seconds. “What we
will do is dig a large pit here, so that the water will flow towards us,
creating a slant and the sun will roll towards us along with the flowing water and
then we will get a chance to lasso it, once we get it near enough. Okay” He
asked her.
His daughter hanging on to each and every word of his, his
confidence, his easy charisma voiced his full consent. “Okay Papa, we do it.”
He settled her down, loosened his tie, rolled his shirt cuffs
and pants and set down digging with his bare hands. His hard fingers furrowing
through wet sand, shoveled up large wet lumps of earth with each and every
hearty scoop. His daughter joined him at his side moving the earth her father’s
digging up away from falling again into the pit.
At first they laughed. The youngsters who pulled the sun’s
drowning prank on the kid stood around the toiling father and daughter and
laughed heartily. A few even teased. Harsh comments on the silly charade. And
then after a few minutes, they simply stood there, witnessing this strange
spectacle.
A crowd started to gather.
All the small kids playing nearby joined in the effort,
their laughter splaying over the wet sand, just for the fun’s sake; Someone who
was building castles nearby supplied with a few bucket and small plastic
shovels; People gathered entranced by the sight; stood around captivated by the
strangeness of the tall tale; A father and daughter trying to drain the sea in
an effort to roll over the sun towards them, so as to lasso it and save it from
drowning; Utter ludicrous; a preposterous attempt to pacify a kid; a grown man
behaving like a raving kid;
Many just stood gaping at the effort the father was working
up with his daughter, the multitude of wet sand flying in all the direction,
the pit growing in leaps and bounds with each and every passing second, the
sheets of water rushing into the pit, the unfaltering faith that the kid showed
on her father, half her anxious eyes set on the drowning sun, half on her
valiant effort, her small hands going about their formidable quest, the sun ever
so slowly sinking, gently suffocated and smothered by the expanse of blue water
despite all their herculean efforts.
“Papa…. It’s gone.” Her voice wavered. “It’s …….. gone.”
Everybody fell silent.
Her father sat down exhausted, looking at the rapidly
darkening horizon, an empty horizon, his breath still coming in spurts with all
the hard physical work.
“We have to do something papa” she shouted, her voice broken
and shrill.
All around, people stood stupefied. Not knowing what to do,
not knowing how to confront the honest chagrin in her voice, not knowing how to
explain to her it’s all but a ruse to have fun on her innocence.
He stared ahead thoughtfully and said. “It did not work.”
His daughter nodded; her eyes still staunch, too stubborn to
cry, to whimper.
“Are we going to give up” He asked, touching her flushed
cheeks with his fingers.
“No” she shouted back with an animal ferocity. “No, we are
not going to give up”
“Good” he said calmly nodding. “There is always another
chance.”
His daughter looked at him, each and every single of his
words etched into the solidness of her heart. Nobody in the crowd dared to
breath. A few last passing sea gulls were heard, their cries clear reaching out
to their fledglings. Even the kids playing with the sand stopped to listen.
Parents, teenagers, joggers, picnickers, people who were just relaxing, A
couple of old men in their evening walks, each and every one of the motley
group that had gathered leaned forward, not wanting to miss anything, anything at
all.
The kid’s father continued. “The earth, in fact is round, we
can go in the opposite direction and save the sun from drowning from the other
side” He paused waiting for his daughter’s reply.
She stood up from her father’s lap, pulled him up, dusted
the sand off him with her tiny hands and said in an urgent voice “papa… Let’s
hurry.”
And as the crowd slowly parted, allowing the couple to
continue on their adventure, the kid stopped.
“One minute papa….” she told her father and turned back and
went straight to the teenager who first put her to saving the sun and said in a
clear crisp voice.
“I will save the sun.”
And then the father and daughter left, their walk vigorous, unfaltering,
towards the sun.
And yes, for those who are still wondering, on whether they
saved the sun or not, rush out and see the rising sun. If you look close
enough, rally hard enough you might notice the lasso around the corner of the
mighty sun and the sun itself being slowly pulled out of the distant horizon. And
of course the father and daughter, if you are lucky enough.
Author's note-
I loved thinking up and writing this story. I am thankful for the image and Blog-a-ton for putting me up to this. And this story is for my sister, who is always the first to hear all my flights of fantasy.
PS-
If you loved this short story- then you might want to try reading another one of my similar story - The spring. Both are strongly dependent on nature to bring out the theme of the fiction.
Have a great day. :)
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. I’m thankful to BLOGGER NAME, who introduced Blog-a-Ton to me, and I debuted in XX edition.
Credits
Image -
Shades of Orange by
Harsha Chittar
Courtesy -
Curious Dino Photography via
www.blogaton.in