The sun was starting to set and it gave the weather a sepia tone. The air felt a little too chilly and crisp against my skin. I had walked subconsciously through the bustling market to the butcher's table. He was butchering a portion of meat that wasn't dividing. Then my eyes darted to his left hand. Astonishingly, he had only four fingers. He was still the same man. I was stunned to still see them there-The children bedside him dancing without music. The guitarist with a turban that always sat there playing his cordless guitar. He seemed to be lip-syncing as no words came out of his mouth.Even the mad man in tattered clothes still paraded in a circle while doing a gesture like opening a door. He always chanted, “Welcome home”. As strange as the scene felt, it was a picturesque moment.
“A cup of tea.” I said faster than I realized what had just come out of my mouth. Now that I paid attention, there wasn't any sound coming from the butcher's table as well. It was absurd that no one found it weird. People just went about their business shopping and buzzing about. I was stunned to still see these strange people at the market ten years later in the same spot. The memory was photographic and the moment, panoramic.
I had taken a stroll down to the market place in central park with a nostalgic heart. I had been thinking about my mother a lot lately. We used to go there and shop for perishables during the weekends while she was still alive. I thought the weird memories I had of that place was only because they were the memories coming from the mind of a ten year old. My memories did not fail me.
The need to relive the old times and feel closer to my mother brought me to the market. I had found an old story book she used to read to me as child which brought those fond recollections.
It was about a city where everything was beautiful and imagination came to life. It was home to creatures of all kinds who lived together in love and harmony. They had a new queen every two decades. When the time for an heir came, the queen would always journey to the land of the humans and return with her successor, and stories about her explorations with the humans.
It was always a continuous story of realization, becoming and adventure from queen to queen. However, I always pondered about the last Queen's adventure in the land of the humans. The story didn't feel quite complete. It was like she never returned to her home to tell her story. There had to be more. Did she return with an heir?
“What happened next?” I would always beckon on my mother.
“I don't know dear. Maybe you can tell me over a cup of tea. Two pennies for a cup. You know, life is like a story full of unimaginable possibilities. It can be anything you want it to be”. She'd smile and put her hands forward.
I would fold my palm and act like there are pennies in it. We'd laugh and talk about a possible ending for the story while drinking hot cinnamon tea. My mother was the type who liked the sun on her face and the rain on her skin. She loved life.
“Ah! A cup of tea ehh? Two pennies for that”. The butcher smiled at me exposing his fine set teeth. He had one golden tooth that shot a sparkle.
“Pardon me I didn't realize what I was saying....”
“I said that would be two pennies ma’am”. He interrupted me.
Astounded I looked up at him, he was still smiling. Then I decided to play along. I formed a fist and pretended to hand him money. Just like I used to play with my mother.
“There you go”. He brought out a cup of tea from nowhere in particular. The smell of cinnamon traveled to my nose as its vapor evaporated from the cup and filled the air. I took the cup of tea from him and drew a sip. This flavor awakened my senses and further took me years back to my mother's kitchen.
It was like the ground began to spin with me in it. Then I started to hear it. First, it was the sound of butchering. I looked at the butcher and he winked. Then I heard a sweet melodious voice accompanied by gentle strings of a guitar. It was the guitarist and I could see why the children were dancing. It was like an enchantment. A little bit to their side was the mad man with tattered clothes doing that gesture. This time, he was opening a real door that revealed a beautiful path. The air from the door was cool and sweet-smelling. “Welcome home”. He said with a smile.
I walked through the door very cautiously peeking in first. It was like something I had never seen before. Sadness left me completely and I was enveloped by a very delightful feeling. The kind that conjures the innocence and curiosity of a child.
It felt so surreal. The trees were many colors of pink, purple, peach, and white. I could see antelopes, squirrels, bunnies hopping around. The birds, bees, butterflies, and fairies roamed the air buzzing and speaking. I could hear them talk. I was amazed.
Petals from different flowers formed a carpet along the ground that led to an opening. As I walked in, I could see them. Humans, elves, fairies, spirits, nymphs and all sorts of creatures lined the path down to the opening.
I almost tripped in awe of the magnificence right before me. I steadied myself by holding on to a branch of tree bedside me. “Who dares to disturb my slumber?“ The tree growled as its branches fluttered. I was startled. “Queen Meenal?” he blurted as soon as he set eyes on me.
“No fudge. This looks like the younger one. It's her daughter, our heir”. A faun beside him announced very excitedly. The whole creatures turned to look at me. I could tell they were surprised and excited at the same time to see me. Soon every one began to cheer and rejoice as they ushered me in.
“Why did it take you so long?”
“Where is your mother the queen?”
“Did you come with incredible stories?”
“Tell us, We would love to hear of your adventures.”
I wasn't sure where to start answering their questions. But I was sure I had met the rest of my mother's story. It felt complete now.
