In search of a peacock feather

The arid parts of the country longed for the rains. The sky so dry, reflected the parched barren ground. All signs of life were remotely preserved. The days were long and hot, and the nights were too short. The locals believed that the sun spread special rays for this region. They considered this a blessing. The sun scorched the earth for 45 days and at the end of that time, the peacock danced in the secret garden and rain would fall to quench the thirst of this dry land.

There was not a person unfamiliar with the stories of the secret garden. Some say it imbibed the spirits of the ancestors who visited in the form of peacocks and provided them with much-needed rainfall. The folks knew neither where the garden was, nor if the story was true or a figment of fantasy. Peacocks were also not common in that region. All they had was a firm belief that when the peacock danced, the sweet drops of rain would fall from the sky and quench the thirst of the dry earth beneath.

Troy was already in love with this strange land. The people were simple, warm, and friendly. They had limited means and unlimited hospitality. His day would begin with a drink made from the juice of a native berry finely crushed on a stone mortar used specifically for that purpose. It was then added with some herbs and left for some time to brew a fresh tea that would be both refreshing and replenishing. The locals trusted this decoction to be best suited for anyone traveling out in the heat of the day. “It keeps your head cool. You need a cool head and a warm heart.” the village elder, whom the locals lovingly called Daji, said with a burst of ebullient laughter.

“Secret garden cannot be seen by everyone. It shows itself in mysterious ways. When you forget the world, the light will show you the way.” the elder said. He was one of the few people who lived to see the secret garden and tell its tale. This made the village folk revere him. They said, “Daji is touched by the elders. He has changed forever.”

Today was the day Troy would start his journey in search of the secret garden. He was not a local. This was not his legend. Yet, he is a traveler, and this is what he sought. He was bound to the Tiger eye glistening on his finger. He filled his bottle with the sweet water dug up from underground. “Today you get a full bottle.”, a lady near the watering hole said with a smile. The locals called her Halmoni. Water was a rare commodity, and Halmoni was entrusted with rationing the water for strict use amongst households, especially for children. No one uttered a word against her judgment.

Troy put on his trekking shoes and grabbed his bag and bottle. He knew in his heart it was the foreboding start of a long day. He smiled amicably at the simple villagers and waved as he walked away from the only cluster of habitat into the vast emptiness of the dry arid desert. 

He thought about the little village he left behind. It wasn’t much but had given him the warmth of a place to call home over the last few weeks. The people were caring and sharing the little that they had.

Troy remembered his home, his neighborhood, his friends, and the warm fireplace they would sit around and listen to stories while it snowed outside. He longed to go back but the Tiger eye beckoned. The travelers had to fulfill the call. Unbound by itineraries, they were to tell the story that was untold. Deep inside he knew he had to tell the story too, no matter how strong the longing to go back was.

He moved on into the desert. The sun had soared up in the sky and the brightness engulfed the surroundings. There was nothing in sight, but the vast sea of sand. The temperature began to rise and Troy sipped his water, had a snack of a succulent roasted root of a native shrub that Halmoni had neatly packed for him, and walked on. He had been walking for hours now. Doubt crept in…

“How do I know I am headed the right way?”, he thought to himself, “What if the garden chooses to not reveal itself to me?” 

A sense of gloom darkened inside him and it only grew stronger with every step he took. He sat down squatting on the burning sand, feeling tired and drained. He picked up his bottle to drink water and realized it was down to the last drop. He panicked. It seemed like the day had no end. He was on the verge of giving up any morsel of hope he had left within him and returning, when he suddenly heard the sound of Daji saying to him, “Believe!” 

Troy looked around, but Daji was not to be seen anywhere. He heard him again, “Believe!”. He shook his head, had Daji just reached out to him through the ether? Troy picked himself up and moved on. He recalled what the old man had said, “You need a cool head and a warm heart.”

He walked beneath the scorching sun, on the dry parching sand, with no one in sight. It was just him and a voice inside him calling him to keep walking. He looked up, and as he gazed at the strange desolate land in front of him wondering if this was the same planet he was on, he squinted, and amidst the warm air rising from the sand he could in far far away a glimpse of what looked like a lake with trees on its sides. Even from a distance it looked peaceful, calm, inviting and he knew he had to walk towards it.

The sun wasn't showing any mercy. The rays fell hard on the skin. Sweat dripped from his brows and Troy made a futile attempt to shake one last drop of water from his bottle. He was lightheaded and struggled to step forward. He blinked his eyes and felt the world move around him. He put a foot forward and dwindled. 

Troy lay in a state where he could not feel himself. He was not hot anymore, nor thirsty.

"How long have I been here? Am I standing or lying on the ground? I feel so light and happy." Troy thought to himself.

He looked up. It was bright but he could no longer see the sun piercing the sky with his golden arrows. He was engulfed in what looked like white clouds. A sense of peace and calm overcame him. Troy looked ahead. He saw the most beautiful lake with clear blue waters close to him. Green trees surrounded the sides. It was cool so close to the lake and he felt a strange warmth and tranquility in his heart. Just then he saw a peacock open its fan of feathers and break into a dance. It was a sight to behold. It swayed and moved around with a slight shake to its feathers that spread out its splendid blue-green hue. Many peacocks joined. Mesmerized by the dance Troy could no longer keep his eyes open. He saw the old man with green eyes, a slight smile across his face, the usual twinkle as he smiled. A familiar warmth flooded his heart. The time for his travels had come to an end. It was time to return.

Troy woke up on a straw bed, surrounded by the familiar smells of the village. A young girl sprinted out of the room calling, "Daji!".

Daji came in and smiled at Troy. "You saw them, didn't you?", he said. "I do not remember much, but I have a feeling that I cannot shake away," Troy said. "I know. I know.", said Daji, looking away at a distance with a faint smile on his face. 

Troy packed his belongings and returned to the place he called home. He looked around - the old fireplace waiting to be lit, the house coat on the empty chair, longing for the familiar green eyes to come looking for him - he sighed. He put on the house coat, sat on the wing chair right next to the fireplace, and opened his diary. The bells at the gate chimed softly.

Troy looked up - the cold North Wind blew again… 

The end, for an end is only just the beginning.

Want to read more?
Part 1: The North Wind
Part 2: The Tiger Eye
Part 3: Mystical Butterfly
Part 4: A New Beginning

Also The Mountain's Lullaby
The Moonlight Pond

The Musical Forest