A Second Chance

Once upon a time, there was lovely little town called Kudremukh, nestled within the mountains of the Western Ghats. The lush green mountains secluded the town from the bustling humanity of the neighboring regions, like a well-guarded jewel. Only the river Bhadra chortled merrily through its very heart, like an indulgent playmate humoring the few hundred people who lived happily in their pretty town. During the monsoons, however, clouds pushed against the mountain peaks and winds ran across the little town in deadly, screeching, whirls. Then, the Bhadra swelled up and roared like a war monster. Leeches and snakes came out in numbers, pushing people indoors.

The little girl hated the monsoons. But she knew it was only a matter of time - a couple of months at the most - before the trees would win the war against the ferocious winds and Kudremukh would be as lovely and green and cool as ever. She loved her little town; she hadn't yet known any other.

She made friends with all the children - the children she met in the town's only park and in the single recreation center of the town, where everyone assembled at least once a week to watch a movie or a dance program or a school function. But she was happiest in school.

Image by dara nilrothanak from Pixabay

The little girl was all of ten

She loved her school and all her friends

A tiny crush, a "very good",

full marks or half - her joys and wounds

Mind you, this was in the 80s, when Kudremukh did not have a single television set. There were telephones, but only in offices, and in  a handful of houses. One had to make a trunk-call to speak long distance, but the calls cost a lot of money. Writing letters were normal, but getting a reply took a long time, because Kudremukh was not easy to reach. So, the little girl’s parents missed their relatives and friends, who lived far away, in another part of the country, reachable only after days of travel by road and rail.

She was merely ten, when she was forced to leave her beloved Kudremukh, her school and all her friends. She knew then, that she would never see her friends again, for she was going far, far away. 

Image by abeer alabdullah from Pixabay

Then came a time, she had to go

Daddy's job became her woe

School and friends stayed behind

Tearful farewells lingered tho'

Time passed and she grew up, finished school and went to college, but never did she forget her first school in paradise. She recalled every face in her class, every teacher - everything they taught her, every song she sang, small incidents, dialog with friends, everything was etched in stone in her memory. She prayed that she be reunited with her class in another life, if there was such a thing. She dreamed that they all remembered her and loved her as much as they did years and years ago.

Times changed, and like a boon to humanity came the internet and the mobile phone. The girl, now a woman, on a whim one day, looked up 'Kudremukh' and there indeed, in the social media, were pictures of Kudremukh, although much different from what she could remember. Things had changed since she left, she realized; her school had shifted to another location. Hundreds of unknown names associated themselves with the school – her school. She frantically searched for a familiar name, from one website to another, and then finally, one day, she found a name – a classmate and friend in another life. Was it really him? – a big, burly man with a moustache, no resemblance to the young face she remembered so well, except, perhaps, the nose? Somewhat? With trembling hands she composed a brief message – “do you remember me?”

25 years had passed since those tearful farewells; she had little hope; but in two days came a reply – “the little girl with curly hair? Of course, I remember you!” She was shocked and overjoyed. Someone from her dreams actually remembered her!

In another two days came another message, from another familiar name, and soon she was flooded with messages and phone calls. Unfamiliar, mature voices, but all oozing nostalgia, remembering a life in paradise. That paradise, however, had become a ghost town. Everybody had had to leave Kudremukh!

Soon there was an invite to join a virtual group - a group with Kudremukh in its name and in its interface. "The girl" did not need a second call. “SURPRISE!” the 100 odd members cried, almost in unison, “welcome back to your school!” Here again, are all your classmates, your seniors, juniors, and many others you had never had a chance to meet, and, hang on, your teachers! 
"Yes, they do pop in from time to time, to say a good word or two."
"Here, little girl, is your second chance to live the life that was denied to you."

Image by peter_pyw from Pixabay