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by jaya Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Book · Educational · #2110197
A chain of vignettes.
#909433 added April 19, 2017 at 5:45am
Restrictions: None
A-19 Words-1300
“It is nothing secretive, Elvira. It is just a family fraud discovered a little late. By the time I realized I was being cheated by my own blood relative and his friend I lost quite a bit of hard earned money. Things have taken a very lucky turn for me in realizing the theft and go to the right people who helped me in bringing the culprits to book,” said a rather emotionally roused uncle John.

Sometimes when the negatively unexpected happens, we get the shock of our lives. In the same way, when some happy tidings are delivered all of a sudden, out of the blue, we cannot contain our joy. That shows how vulnerable we human beings are in the hands of buffeting fortunes. It is difficult to remain untouched by the events in life. Few can rise above the contradicting forces of the bad and the good. This is so because we do not have the mental strength or purity to withstand the changing phases of life. Our sense of attachment never lets us go. It is this attachment to things, places and persons that makes us dance to the tune called by our minds and hearts. Religion, any religion gives us examples of people suffering from the results of sins like desire, anger and covetousness. These sins arise because human beings are too weak to resist them. However, to reach the height of detachment is possible they say. I should ask Ashley how that unique physiotherapist realized the way to permanent happiness and freedom.

Uncle John and Elvira were talking to Ashley by the time I came out of the web of my thoughts.
“uncle John, when will the grape picking start?” I asked.
“our manager tells me the date is tomorrow . the activity will start by dawn, continues through the day and closes by six in the evening. Three days will suffice for the work to be done. Now, Jim, let me tell you that is not the end of the business. Later comes your ordeal. Everyone should help in stamping the grapes down. This takes a longer while.
“How long will be John?” Cathy who just came to join us asked.
“oh Cathy, this idea of calling all of you came from your request to witness the proceeding of grape picking and extracting the juice in the age old method,” laughed John. “ I am just imagining how well you guys are going to participate in the festival,” he continued.
“Rest assured, John, your job will be well done by all of us,” quipped Elvira, smiling at him. Her raised face with a sweet smile on it, I could see is having an unsettling influence on uncle John. He just turned away with a half smile on his face saying, “let us see how things are going to be from tomorrow onward.”

We all went back to our rooms in a little while and rested till four in the afternoon. I got up and put my feet in my slippers walked to the window to look out into the garden below. The white curtains hung on the windows were moving in the wind blowing from the direction of mountains. Below I could see my mom, and aunt Sarah sat chatting in a corner. They made a good sight sitting with colorful roses surrounding them. I was sure they were chatting about the past when as young girls they would go riding at this hour of the day in the company of a stable hand. They would go far till they reached the mountain range. There they would jump down while Jack, the young stable boy would assist them to unbridle themselves and start taking a long walk in dunes. They enjoyed an hour long walk with the wind blowing on their faces. In the meanwhile, Jack would take the horses to the nearby pong to make them drink water, and rub them down before letting them wander freely.

At seven they returned to Emerald Farm, and joined their brothers in playing tennis. You see mom and her siblings had a wonderful carefree childhood. Grandpa had planned his economic background very well and saw to it that his kids had the best of schooling, music, games and accomplishments such as horse riding and music.

It was during one of those days when my grandpa brought a few friends home. When the sisters came home on an evening in March when spring was in full bloom, they saw a young man talking to my grandfather in the hall.

He was tall and handsome in a blue and white checkered long sleeve shirt and light blue tie. Matching pants adorned his long legs. His feet were firmly planted in russet colored leather boots. He had his brown hair neatly combed from side partition. All in all he had a clean American look. They, I mean mom and aunt Sara could hear my grandfather laughing out loud and clear in calm evening atmosphere. They stepped inside the hall wondering who it could be that made their father laugh so boisterously. That was my dad, Ryan Mackenzie, son of grandfather’s childhood pal, Daniel Mackenzie. When the two young girls were spotted at the door, my grandfather called them in to join the group. There were about a dozen of them at different corners of the large room. The moment the girls were inside the hall, all those men came quickly to get introduced them.

As mom told me, grandpa addressed Daniel Mackenzie, “Hey Daniel, these are my daughters Emma and Sarah. My gems, without whom, I cannot breathe in peace.”
Then he turned to my mom and said, “Emma darling, this is Ryan Mackenzie, our new engineer in the railways. Isn’t he smart and dashing?”
Dad stood like a tall Greek statue, dumbstruck for once. My mom blushed and tried to hide the creeping rose color on the cheeks behind the facade of a smile, which was natural and spontaneous.
Daniel liked my mom as a suitable bride for his handsome son. It didn’t take long for the couple to realize that they suited each other like joy and brightness. My dad used to visit Emerald Farm on every Saturday and took my mom out. Their courting continued for a month or so. Grandpa fixed their marriage date too. It was during this period that aunt Sarah fell for the infamous French man and decided to elope to Paris. The rest was history and known to all.

I came down to join others for breakfast and to hear the latest tidings at Emerald Farm.
After the breakfast we assembled on the front porch discussing what to do this morning.
“I will take you to the stud farm today. So you can enjoy some riding and racing across the dunes,” said uncle John.
“Oh I love riding. It was a long time dream of mine to ride across the countryside,” said Cathy.
“Do not worry, dear Cathy. You will get the best man to teach riding,” said uncle John assured her.

“How about you, Ashley?” I asked her. She smiled and replied,
“Well, while in college I picked up riding by joining the riding club. It was good while it lasted.
I could not devote much time to the sport as I was busy with my records, practicals and demanding field work.”
“Do you think you can pick it up again?” asked Elvira who was listening to the conversation.
“I think so,” said my bold Ashley. “I think riding a horse is like riding a bicycle. If you learnt it once, you will not forget the natural reflexes,” observed Ashley.
“Well said,” uncle John responded. “Ashley is right. I am sure once she broke into riding, she will be
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