We have been walking along the lane in the summer evenings of May. It had become a routine for so called evening walks that our feet got fed up of the crude terrace tops and bylanes and was in search of a new spot. The park nearby seemed perfect and suddenly we almost sprinted even though there were a good four hours to go. The decade old arched gate welcomed us with a creak. We didn’t mind it all as our eyes hovered around the expanse of the park with its lustrous trees holding their guard at every few steps. The orangish tile blockade was dedicated to walking track overlooking the now defunct pond . We took a stroll having a peculiar view of the ice-cream seller pitching his treat to the parents, children crawling into the sands, teenagers posing for selfies and couples looking at the sunset.
We climbed over a ledge to catch a glimpse of the pigeons tip- toeing over the edges of the pond, flowers sitting docile in their bed and the sun slowing descending under our noses. The warm wind fiddled with our hats and moreso our frayed skin, hopefully no one pick us for looking like baked potatoes. We took a break into our water bottles and sat on a bench that was rickety on the ends. An extra see-saw which had no handles to save from sliding or toppling over near the area marked for cricket.
Thankfully, an old man joined us, and we were balanced in our frame of mind and bodies. He smiled and carefully wiped his spectacles while we offered him some chips. He thanked us and nibbled on few chips joining us to gaze over the children trying some acrobats . “There is a sorrow that lingers in old parks”,the old man said looking around wistfully. “No , don’t think so Uncle”, I murmured. He chuckled at us and pointed out to the extreme corner, “ Look, there was a entire pergola set-up until few years ago, where so many families took turns to sit and gather around . This pond was filled to the brim and the sun shone like a dazzling gold. There was a array of ice- cream, tea, toys, snacks, juices sellers having their entire cart stationed at the entrance of the park. The kids used to gather around the balloon and bubble seller for hours. The cricket area was once a beautiful garden outlet that was highlight of this park, a witness to many picnics, birthday and get- togethers.
There were no sections outlined unlike now, rather we liberally walked to the length and breadth of the park, across all age- groups. The tulips that burrow behind us were once the garlands that groomed the entire place . Many of us have had built new friendships that have lasted much more than these new lousy tracks and obsession filled workout set up. The park was a place of rejuvenation once we came back from our work or have a beautiful day with our family and friends on weekends. Unlike today, most of them are isolated with the phones or detached to some lingering thoughts to their own. ” Surely as we both nodded in agreement, we knew this was one walk to remember!
Prompt- Use this line in your flash fiction of 500 words-“There is a sorrow that lingers in old parks”,the old man said looking around wistfully.
Copyright©2020-13th May by Elvira Lobo (All rights reserved; unauthorized use prohibited) Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don’t claim any of its rights.