Personification and imagery


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Personification and imagery

  1. 1. My half-worn foot protectors had a chance to explore the rough pavement along the western blocks of classrooms before their time on my shoe rack was over. Though far exceeding their life expectancy, I still let them enfold my fragile feet before they had to be consigned to oblivion as destined, in the mortifying knowledge that my ancestors once traversed continents barefoot. The sound of those shoes crunching on fallen fawn tinted palm fronds lying by the puddles was pleasant to the ear, but was no match for nature’s orchestral music played by chirping insects and birds concealed in the dense dewy foliage and amidst placid grass of the field. Dawn broke an hour ago but at this moment the sun, just emerging from the horizon, was impossible for townsfolk to see as tall bleak concrete buildings blocked the view as they did every day since their advent. Glazed windows of those buildings reflected the image of the ever-moving clouds enchantingly like colossal mirrors erected at right angle facing heaven. The clouds were glowing orange while the grass was glinting yellow under the ray beamed down upon this blessed earth. Sandy and bustling with tiny earthbound creatures, the pitch had always been the hub of this famed post-war established academy. This is the place where I played my first ever football game in my life. This is the place where I used to sit curling up on the ground in the scorching heat during the weekly assemblies. This is also the place where I would peer at the belle of the sport day throughout the lengthy occasion. Yet I seldom, if ever, relished the thought of lazing around this field, from which waves of nostalgia had come lapping around me even ere the casting of the first light over the land by the sun in this crisp delightful cockcrow. Then before the crescent moon and the bright star Achernar began to fade out, my mind flashed back to the sport day two years ago. Just the thought of that belle made a reminiscent smile sprang to my lips. Dressed in zany kimono, a traditional Japanese dress, the petite was supposed to be the focal point of the sports occasion and she did attract much attention when she bore the red house placard while marching round the green during the opening ceremony. Martin, perching on the kerb fringing the pitch just beside me, was the one who pointed and picked that sylph out from a rumbustious throng of students around the field though I told him flat out I would never lose my heart to any girl in this school. My first sight of her winsome smile got me smitten outright and held me in tremendous thrall. My last sports day in this school was livened up by that svelte bombshell again and seeing her was my only reason for not missing that event as she would put on her make-up and her tight-fitting dress that would give her a flattering silhouette to stun me. Easterlies kissed my cheeks and refreshed my vague recollection of her countenance wistfully. The sun had tinged the sky with tangerine as its effulgence sliced out the dim outline of the concrete blocks and the imposing Hindu temple near the school’s precincts. Flocks of birds cleaved through the flaming-red sunlight and over the cedar trees standing parallel to the walkway, making the surroundings more surreal and untrue. I crooned out the last line of my favourite song, The Only Exception, that sounded, “I am on my way to believing it,” to convince myself that all this was not a dream. Savouring the moment with elation, I sang it to my heart’s content. September 2011 * She’s form four now