Lost Torn Forlorn
by
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A man and a woman
A man and a woman, both of them nomads, coming from poor countries once rich homes, in a rich country squat amidst the ruins of a castle.
The castle is situated on a hill, overlooking a picturesque village.
A castle once, as now all that remains is part of what once was a turret. A castle still, though in ruins, it’s remains still dominate the village.
The countryside is dotted with pines. The hill top offers a spectacular view of a lake onto one side, a mountain on yet another and just on the horizon lies a bridge, a long bridge helping super fast trains to traverse the valley. Just below them is a medieval village, which has retained it’s old age charm.
A few rocks, boulders, a dungeon, half a wall, that is what is left of the once magnificent castle. The graveyard just behind acts as a constant reminder of the ephemeral moments, humanity shares. Shares but does not care...
The man loves watching trains cross the bridge.
Whoosh....swoosh!
Whoosh...swoosh, high speed trains crossing the bridge at 300 kms an hour, like a flash, no noise just a whisper, he claims.
The woman loves to hear the bells of the church toll.
Ding...dong!
Ding...dong!, the bells toll, heralding the times and the time it is now, for the sun to set. She would like the sun to set in the lake, but the sun favours to disappear behind the distant hills. The sun never sets where one would like it to, she complains.
The man prefers the fauna, while the woman opts out for the flora. The hill side is decrepit of animals or birds. The ruins lie amidst dust. Yet there is a flower that desperately seems to be fighting for survival and stands proud next to a heap of ashes.
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About the Book
A story of a man and a woman rendered homeless by a war that ravaged their lands destroying everything and took innocence in it's wake....
About the Author
Arun Dhadwal : Currently a Ph.D student in Aix en Provence attached to the CEROG center of research and development of IAE Aix en Provence.
Belma Bojic : A student pursuing her Masters in Litterature. She has worked as an interpretor for Amnesty International.
Both of them are studying in Aix en Provence. They come from different countries, countries at war. One rendered no...mad and another a no...maid, a story of nomads.
Lost torn and forlorn is a result of a bizarre discussion that took roots between a chat and a tea. The story of a lost childhood, a childhood torn and a childhood forlorn, by a war. The seed germinated in a university hostel at the wee hours of the morning...once the plant took roots, it was consequently nourrished and watered amidst the music of the jazz pubs of Aix and the desolate and ruddy landscapes of Provence.
Summer reclaims rains like a tempest in the midst of autumn. The flashes and thunder of autumn making way for the desolate winterscapes. Spring resurrecting from the dead remains of a winter.