The Tale of the Grass

                                                  The Visitor

It was a bright morning. The air was clear, birds were chirping on the trees and the neighbourhood was waking up. The lawn outside the big orange coloured house was sparkling with dewdrops on the tips of the grass. 

A blue kingfisher landed on the grass, sat there for a while, pecked and cleaned its feathers and then flew away.

Meanwhile, a tiny blade of grass in the lawn woke up too. He breathed in the fresh air and yawned with eyes and mouth so wide open that a tear trickled down his eyes, trickling all the way down, till the ground drank it.

Sleepy eyed, he shook the last drop of dew off himself and started getting ready for the day when suddenly out of nowhere, something in the air flew past him. The tiny grass bent over right on time else that thing would have almost landed on him!

“Can’t you stand straight? I almost lost my balance!” said a voice loud and clearly irritated.

“Who’s that? squealed the grass.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know me?” the tiny grasshopper threw an attitude, brushing her leaping legs.

“No.”

“Haha, that’s why you look so lost in dreams,” laughed the hopper and carefully stretching one of her right legs in front said, “Hello, I am Sandy!”

“I am Hem-,” the little grass was about to introduce himself aloud when something caught his eyes. Behind the white flowered bush, he saw a pair of legs. He had seen legs running around in the lawn in the evening, these were those. When he saw a catching net next to those legs, he immediately knew what it was. The legs were slowly moving towards them!

As if suddenly waking up from a dream, he screamed, “Sandy! There’s a catching net coming after you!! Run run!!!”  Just about then, someone jumped towards them, throwing the net and fell flat on face over the grass. It was a little girl.

The net had missed the grasshopper, Sandy had hopped away. He sighed in relief.

“I missed it again!” cried the girl, her face buried in the grass. “I know sshomeone alwayssh tellssh the hopper when I am coming” she lifted her face looking to the right and to the left, crying loud.

“How could she know about our secret?” the grass was puzzled. He didn’t say a word, closed his eyes and stood straight hoping the girl would eventually go away. But the cry grew louder and louder until he couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Hush now, your eyes would swell as big as potatoes and turn as red as tomatoes if you cry any longer!” he said impatiently. The little girl lifted her head hoping to see who was talking and upon finding no one, continued sobbing.

“It’s me, the grass.” 

She looked at him with teary eyes full of surprise when he said, “Now, if you stop crying I will tell you a story from a long time ago, about a faraway land of magic.”

She was very puzzled indeed but as the little grass bent his head, swaying in the breeze, the girl looked at him and stopped sobbing, waiting for the tale.

                                           The Tale of the Grass

Now, quite long ago but not so far away from the land of magnificent peacocks and royal tigers, was a land that was home to the mighty elephants and the mighty Elephant grass.

Glistening in the golden rays of the sun, strong and deep rooted, dressed in rich green and even taller than an elephant, stood the proud and fierce grass! Neither the animals nor the birds dared to venture in where they stood. But one afternoon, when the sun was getting ready to set, footsteps were heard near the grassland.

“Meyyyh,” a lonely goat cried nearby.

“No, don’t go there! Stop stop!” cried the little boy who was running after the goat, but it was too late. The goat had rushed inside the grass.

The little boy looked up at the huge blades of green standing in front of him and suddenly remembered all the stories of men who had never returned from this place. He could not leave without his pet but how could he even enter inside.

“Please let me to enter,” requested the boy.

There was no response, so he moved closer and just about then a thunderous voice roared!

"You cannot enter. This is not your land", shouted the fierce grass.

“I..I live nearby, I promise I would get my pet and return,” the boy could barely speak.

“Go back to where you have come from! We don't care about your pet", they hissed in anger.

It was getting late. The helpless boy couldn’t think of anything any longer and rushed inside, the sharp blades cutting deep through his skin. He tried to move through but couldn’t. After a long struggle, the boy dropped down on the ground to never return to his home again.

It was such a shameful act that even the setting sun turned blood red that day. For several days, the blades of green stained crimson stood silent, not knowing what to feel. After a few more days, as the evening wind cried for the little boy, the land felt deeply shaken inside, as if it had lost someone dear.

Strangely, next year, the grass didn’t feel like growing so tall anymore. And each passing spring, they grew shorter and softer; till the time when they stood so tender that even babies would roll over them but won’t get hurt! Why, even movie stars with their delicate frames would roll over them and won’t ever get a scratch!

But what happened next literally blows my mind till now. No matter who stepped over the grass, they could always spring right back to stand straight. They would grow back even if someone burnt them!

Now, by the time the story ended, a woman had come around, looking for the little girl. And finding her fast asleep, she took her in her arms and went inside the house.
I had heard the story of the tender grass from that little girl and now the story is yours!